Thank You Mrs J

It has been so long and so much has happened but I don't want to get into that right now. All I want to do is give a HUGE public thanks to my mentor teacher. I share a classroom with another social studies teacher and it is spectacular, however between the two of us we have sooooo much shit. Our classroom had zero storage so we stacked under tables and our desk. Our little school has expanded and some teachers were getting the "new" classrooms, we were not; but my mentor stepped up to bat for me at a faculty meeting and here I sit in my larger, much storaged, beautiful brand new classroom. I love it and I love you Mrs J for doing this for me--you are awesome even when you don't need to be!

Genius Update

This week was full of parent-teacher conferences in our school district. Lucky for me, my school doesn't do the "traditional" conference for the 1st half--our school counselor takes care of it. Jesse, Dax, Tel, and I went to Dax's meeting and there were NO surprises there. The child is still on a 6th grade reading level (damn it, I really thought with reading over the summer he would have increased to at least 7th grade) and ACED all of the 2nd grade end of level exams. He is in his teacher's "challenge group" for both math and spelling and is doing well. When Dax's teacher sent home short grade printouts about a month ago there was a comment on it regarding Dax and "visiting" at inappropriate times; we addressed that. Mr G said that it wasn't just Dax, nor was it just one other kid--it was all of them. He then took a pause, looked directly at Dax and said in a very serious tone "I don't want you to get a big head with what I'm about to say but I need to explain the situation to your parents". The tone made me nervous as to what was coming next. Mr G said that he would consider Dax to be the most popular kid in class and everyone wants to work with him, talk to him, just connect with him at all times available--including work time. This, more than all of his over achievements, makes me soooooo happy. When Dax was really young I was told on more than one occasion that due to his intelligence he would lack in social skills and may never be able to "connect" to kids his age. I already knew he has friends but most popular????? The child is perfect. He not only is congenial and brilliant, he is beautiful to boot. I am so proud of you Waxy.
Tel felt left out at homework time so we decided to create homework for him. He, at 3 years old, is practicing writing letters. Why not? He is learning how to identify them and how to make their sound, the next logical step is writing them. Telly you, too, are brilliant!

How is it possible to be so blessed?

Tel Brief & Congrats to Dax the genius

I am only working every other day this year which is splendid! I am able to have a "regroup" day before every day of school and Tel and I have been able to spend more alone time together which he has named "best buddy day". Tel is in preschool as I have stated before. His teacher had a few students drop out (great habit at so young an age) and she requested to combine her two 3 year old classes so that she had 1 full class twice a week rather than 2 half full classes every week. So he attends school every Tuesday and Thursday for a couple of hours. FYI: His teacher is Connie Weaver and she is AWESOME!! Tel is already recognizing letters and numbers (and the difference between the two) and basic sounds of letters; they are on E now. I am simply amazed because Dax's 3 year old preschool was purely social, academia was tucked in every now and then. Yesterday was one of my days off and Tel didn't have school either so we had an extra long "best buddy day" which was kind of trying on this best buddy because sometimes I need to clean by myself and Tel didn't understand because it was in fact "best buddy day"... Toward the late afternoon I decided to hell with the house cleaning, we were playing more than cleaning, we should read books. Tel went to his bedroom to get a book to read and came back with 2. As I was saying "The End" for the second book I noticed a "what the hell is going on" look on Tel's face. I sat the book down and before I could say anything Tel had already gotten up and started for his bedroom. As he was exiting my room I heard him say to himself "in my mind I was thinking of 3 books". Yes in my mind I think a lot of things that are forgotten when I enter a new room too baby, it's just the way it is.

Dax: this year his teacher has incorporated a "challenge words" spelling test. If a child gets 100% on the Monday pre-test, they study the challege words for the friday test. Dax not only qualified for the challenge words last week, he got 100% on those difficult words as well. He is sooooo going to be my brain surgeon, whereas Tel will be my rocket scientist (those are the smartest jobs in the world right???)

Why???

I didn't get much sleep last night. The last thing I remember "watching" on TV before trying to sleep was the impact of Hurricane Ike on Texas and the memorial that was put up for miners in my state. The memorial is an uncanny replica of each of the miners who lost their lives in the mine collapse last year in East Carbon County. The news coverage showed the families and other people who went to the unveiling. I cannot get the picture of a wife running her hand over the sculpted face of her lost husband. I'm not asking for any doctrination but at times like this I wonder how an almighty loves all equally could let something like this occur. NOTHING CAN BE LEARNED FROM EVENTS LIKE THAT!! The children who lost parents will only learn hatred of companies who do not put forth the extra dollar and the companies will not learn a thing except how to cut checks to clear their name so they can re-open the damn mine. Then there is Ike. So much loss. Nothing could've prevented it. Don't give me the "its in the Bible" bullshit, this stuff has been happening for millions of years and the end STILL isn't here. Here is breaking news: it's not coming, there is no such thing. The only truth is that there is suffering, starving, fighting, dying, cruelty, and much much worse out there and it will never cease. Why are there people in the world who will send millions of dollars to third world countries to aid their needy but forget about the needy on our soil. Why is there billions of dollars spent and American lives lost to help out the suffering on the other side of the globe but no National Guard building homes for the homeless in the USA. There is not much I can do, I do what I can when I can but I get so depressed by these things. Those people who are in disarray due to the Hurricanes: you are in my good thoughts and same to the families of the miners. For that matter: all people who have experienced great loss I am thinking of you and hope for the best. As for offending readers: those who matter don't get offended by me and those who get offended don't matter (a little quote I picked up :) )

Just a Fam Update

Dax had his football opener on Saturday. He plays on the 3rd/4th grade combined team. They got their asses handed to them on a silver platter! I'm usually not one of those moms who make excuses as to why my children weren't the best performers (because I totally realize that football is something Dax has to work at, school not so much) but they played Hurricane and they are a bunch of cheap shooting, mouthy son of a b's. To give you an example: after one of the plays was completely over, a Hurricane player grabbed one of our players and head butted him FROM BEHIND!! The little jerk just got a flag thrown on him--he wasn't pulled from the game. Oh and the parents from Hurricane: they like to yell words that I don't use in mixed company loudly to our coaches and players. IT WAS CRAZY!! Hopefully our boys will do better next game; they really didn't play their hardest but the other shit was unacceptable.
Hubbie, who is the defensive coach for Dax's team, was furious!! He is rather competitive and well, when you lose it isn't good at the Hirschi residence. No "better luck next time boys" from him. I believe I actually saw spit fly from his mouth when he was giving his "pep" talk to the team at yesterday's practice. We didn't get any calls from parents so the kids must be getting used to his over-excitablity (for lack of a better term).
Telly has been sick, as have I. But Hubbie and I want to know: why can't children be as sweet as they are when they are running a friggin high fever all the time. He wanted to snuggle, to just 'be' with Hubbie or me, he taught us how to play Pokemon (even if he showed us in a way that made him win every time). It was great but today the fever was gone and he has gone back to school. Which he is loving. He loves being there, he loves telling people he goes, but he hates the getting ready for and thinking about what he may be missing while he is there. He, too, is very bright but unlike Dax, Telly will probably voice his boredom of school and it will take everything we have to keep him going. Dax is a rule follower: he will finish his school work in half the time and read quietly; Tel is a rule maker: he will finish his school work in half the time and want a friend or 20.
The Hirschi's are all doing well. I know I didn't elaborate on myself this is because my life has been a whirlwind. I am at home about 2 hours every day (other than the 7 at night while I'm sleeping) and my house has been crazy dirty. I need to get back into the preschool, scouts, piano, football, work juggle mode. Hopefully next week.

Labor Day Weekend Thoughts

Because I haven't an interesting thing to write about I thought that I would just bulletin the many rather unintelligent thoughts going through my mind at this time. I'm not at work and don't go back until Wednesday so shoooo academic ideas, gimme junk!!

• I bought the new Kid Rock CD (Rock n Roll Jesus): yes, I am into Kid Rock. In a weird been used by skanky women and "I don't know why the hell I feel this way maybe it's because I should've been a groupie instead of a school teacher" kind of way, I find him appealing. Maybe it is just the forbidden life. I dunno.... I love his music; all of it.
• The anorexic girl who doesn't wear a bra at the gym that I have posted about before is now teaching a weights/aerobic class on Saturday mornings and I attended it. She kicked my ass; I hate her even more now but I will continue going to the class.
• I also went to 1/2 of a new class this morning: "Nia". I loved it. It was very...hmmmm... relaxing?? The official description is "a combination of dance and martial arts; focusing on the "dynamic" and "ease" movements". Very much like the 'alternative' dance class I had in high school. I want to go for the entire time but couldn't today because the gym daycare only lets the kids stay for 90 min intervals.
• I was reading other blogs and many a person is fall cleaning their houses. I want to do the same. I tried to last weekend, actually I referred to it as purging my shit. But I really need someone to assist because I can rationalize why I need that red can labeled "cookies" and an outsider could just tell me to get a grip on my god damn hording--what, was I raised during the depression?? Why do I do this and how the hell can I get rid of the junk baggage.
• Forgot: I took the boys to "Star Wars: Clone Wars" last Sunday. It was fun, they love seeing movies in the theatre and I really like the devouring of a ginormous tub-o-popcorn and extra large Pepsi in the dark where no one can see that I am undoing all the healthy eating and hard ass workouts from the previous week. Now THAT is the forbidden life--WHAT A RUSH I GOT!! The movie was alright, I'm not a big Star Wars fan. My boys are; they can actually give you a verbal family tree of the friggin bounty hunters (The Fetts for those of you who are savvy). There were some one liners that made me laugh but just seeing the delight in my boys was enough for me.

Well that sums up my thoughts. Pretty bad, huh. It gives you fodder. Have a splendid work-free, important thought-free weekend!!

Huge Explanation for a Bit from Tel

My hubbie got his deer; his hunt for the year is over. Yes, we are hunters (and trappers for that matter). I do fancy myself as a liberal feminist (well most of the time, in most company) but we do slay Bambi. Yea, Yea enough with the "oh my god, did she really say that?" I am more concerned with the over-population of deer herds being forced from their natural habitats due to assholes desiring the hill top huge ass home. If the deer aren't "taken" for nourishing reasons they will either get hit by a car on their way to find food, die slowly of starvation, or catch one of the many diseases (and die slowly and painfully) the breed has fallen victim to since they were forced to change their natural lifestyles. I am also concerned with my sons being forced to eat food that comes from animals who are given enough growth hormones to send the average American child into puberty at age 9. I want to know where the meat, eggs, fruit, veggies, etc come from as often as possible. Hence the hunting, raising of cattle/sheep, raising chickens, and growing fruit trees and a garden each summer. No E. Coli or Salmonella (sp?) for my boys. The winter months we have to live on what is offered at our not so accommodating to picky people supermarkets in this area. ANYHOO... (I still hate that but use it anyway)
Hubbie, Tel, and I were at a friends house taking care of (for those of you who are sensitive about the caring of fresh carcases) hubbie's deer and of course Tel wanted to experience everything about it--including touching it. Touching was fine until we noticed that all of the ticks (which are commonly found on Mule deer living in sage brush and cedar trees) had not jumped for cover as said deer was being transported home. We told Tel to be careful where he was touching and pointed out a tick while explaining that they will get on your skin and suck your blood and the only way to get them out is with a hot match (didn't want to get into the whole Lyme Disease and such....he is only 3). He became more careful but didn't say any more about them. Fast forward, two days: Tel and I were eating breakfast together and he began to explain his tick theory. "Mom, I think the ticks come from vampires" "What do you mean, Tel?" "The vampires are at their houses and tell the ticks to go suck people's blood" "That is a thought but remember vampires aren't real" That was it. He was very final with his explanation and didn't see it necessary to argue with me. So in case you wondered why or where we gets ticks: those f-ing LAZY vampires!!

A New Era Of Motherhood

I am entering a new era of motherhood and I don't know how I feel about it. Tel will begin preschool on Monday. It is only for 2 hours, twice a week but it is school. This is my baby, there will be no more (a small procedure performed on my not so willing hubbie, but I gave birth to two good sized babies vaginally so there was a basis for the short straw draw, has guaranteed this). Dax is in the 3rd grade this year and according to the 1st class newsletter he will be learning how to write in cursive, multiplication, and will incorporate an actual science class. These are things that are needed for all his future educational career not to mention life skills. When did his primary schooling turn into life skills. I have issues with this as well. I thought it was cute when he learned how to read and write and even more cute when he could do math but my 1st baby is really learning stuff that he will need for the rest of his life-- that isn't the cute stuff anymore it's hard stuff. Am I prepared for him to struggle if he does? Dax is amazingly smart and I'm not just saying that because he is my son. He is an 8 year old 3rd grader who reads and writes on an 8th grade level. School, thus far, has been a breeze for him and I want him to continue to succeed (I have prepared myself for Dax to become a rocket scientist or brain surgeon--there isn't any smarter careers are there, hence the "It doesn't take a .... to know that") Back to Tel: my baby. He is so excited to start school and even more excited to find out that he will have homework. Yes, you heard correctly-homework. Tel's first newsletter informed the parents that they will need to provide treats once every 8 weeks, will be in charge of the "sound" bag every 8 weeks (something to do with learning the sounds of the alphabet) and helping their child with their homework that will be sent home in a folder which on one side holds the homework and on the other side holds the work completed and notes home. I am NOT ready for all of the "big boy" shit yet; as you probably noticed by all of the above incoherent rambling. I am so happy for my boys to become awesome but they are my babies and I fear them not needing me; which is what comes after homework in preschool and times tables in cursive.
On a side note: I got a new puppy (that makes 4 dogs) she is a border collie and seems to be very good. She is catching onto simple commands and stays faithfully by our side when any of us is outside. Unfortunately she is fascinated with my potted flowers and has knocked over and up-rooted a pot on more than one occasion. I think due to age, this isn't bothering me as much as it did with our other border collie who loved to get inside of my planters and dig the flowers up. I may be freaking out about my boys growing up but at least I know that if I were to have waited until later in life to have them I would have gotten to the point when nothing was really bothersome and therefore I wouldn't dwell on the transitions of their lives. I think it is better that I freak out; because strong emotion is what deeply embeds memories---Right?

The Blues

I think I have the blues. I wouldn't say it was depression because I did get out of bed, shower, do my makeup, go to the gym, and take my kids to swimming but I am low. The end of my summer vacation is a week from today (I know some of you are saying 'WTF I don't even get a summer vacation what is she bitching about'; you more than likely make a lot more than I do a year--public school educator remember). I got back from Maui on Monday and I have missed it ever since. Not the actual 'I want to move there' or 'I want to be back on vacation'; it's more like 'I want to live there on the beach and never work another day of my life, just snorkel and watch the ocean'. Completely unrealistic I know. I am usually so pumped for the new school year by now and this year I'm not. I need one of those fun meetings where people share fun ideas that would totally work for me that I get anxious to use--I don't know if I have a meeting like that coming up but God I hope something motivates me soon. I also normally have my and Dax's school clothes purchased by now (ALL OF THEM) oh no, not this year: Dax has all his new shirts and I have 3 new outfits. Dax starts football on Monday and it is craziness during the season, we are constantly on the go and I have to get all the school shopping done before Thursday. Oh and Tel starts preschool so he needs new clothes and backpack too. The list goes on, you can now see why I am down and want to escape to a tropical island. Boo hoo me. I will try to be more funny and upbeat next time.

Back from Maui

After flying the friggin red-eye home and being completely out of whack with the time change; I am home. This picture was taken from our condo balcony. No shit, this is what I woke up to every morning (notice the lack of sun, we woke up at 4 am Hawaii time EVERYDAY! Note: that is 8 am MT) I never once missed home. I missed my children a couple of times but after talking to them I was good to go. My hubbie and I went alone for our 10th anniversary and it was bliss. I tried snorkeling for the first time and LOVED it. We purchased one of those disposable underwater cameras for our snorkeling cruise, the pictures are ok, but they definitely help us remember how beautiful the underwater world looks. We went on a guided tour to the "other" side of the island to a town named Hana (pronounced H-AU-NA). It is undeveloped, one hotel and it is really costy. Beautiful rain forests, waterfalls, lots of fruit on the side of the road. Just beautiful. We had reservations for a Luau, but after seeing the block long line we cancelled (we have been to authentic luaus before so no love lost there). On our actual anniversary we went on a 3 hour (yea, yea funny: Gilligan's Island) sunset dinner cruise. The food was great, the view unbeatable, but the Mai Tais and Blue Hawaiians were the best--maybe because of the fresh juice used. It was awesome, anytime we were on a ship there was an open bar with FREE DRINKS!! NO LIMIT!! Neither of us partook (word?) of too many we were unsure of the alcohol intake laws and driving in Hawaii. Next time we will find a D.D. or leave the rental at our condo and use a taxi. 7 days seemed like enough toward the end of the week but now that I am home, it wasn't long enough. We have already started planning our next trip to Maui, but we will take the boys then. Thinking in two years so that Tel is 5 and can take part in the activities that are offered. If ever you get the chance to go, do it. It is definitely worth the money.

Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me??

After my morning gym visit and on our way to swimming lessons, Dax replayed a conversation Tel had with one of the playroom attendants (who are super cute and always have nothing but GREAT things to say about my children which I know are totally biased because they can be little assholes and one day they were actually fist fighting and the girls STILL said how cute and polite they are and how much they love having them around). The youngest attendant (she is maybe 19 and so sweet) asked Tel if she could be his girlfriend. Tel replied "no I already have a girlfriend". The girl asked who it was thinking a friend would be named I'm sure. Tel answered "my mom!". So there you have it ladies and gentlemen, when it seems like you are having the worst hair day and that huge pimple won't go away just remember you are probably the HOTTEST person to one of your children. Every night as Tel is drifting off to sleep (remember he sleeps with me--yea, yea I know the lines...) he says "You are my girlfriend, you are my mom, you are my Darcie, and you are my bestest friend that ever was". I hope he feels the same way when I ground him from a football game, or whatever, when he is a Junior in high school.

I leave for Maui in, not counting today, 3 days. I have last minute things I need to purchase and will do so tomorrow; like a new memory card for my camera, sunscreen, a charger for my Ipod that plugs into a wall socket, a new hairdryer and diffuser, and a jacket that will go with shorts, jeans, and a sundress. This is where you come in: where would I find a jacket in July? What kind of jacket would fit that need? I was thinking a dark jean jacket??? Whadayathink?

Ramble, Ramble

I am so ready to be out of my house! It has been on the market for a little over a month and we have only had 1 walk through but a ton of people pick up flyer's--I am getting discouraged. I realized that I was done with this house when I no longer take pride in yard work (which used to be my Zen therapy) and I only clean just in case I get a call for a walk through (cleaning, too, helped relieve stress). I know the "market" is slow but come on! Throw me a bone already. I am also nervous to move out of this house and into a rental & storage unit at the same time I am starting a new school year. On the flip side I don't want to spend Christmas in a rental nor do I want my hubbie building our dream home through one of our cold, wet winters. I guess I'm just screwed. I need to realize I can't have it all. 8 DAYS UNTIL MAUI--WITHOUT CHILDREN!!
That is my only silver lining at the moment. Oh, back to the yard work. I used to LOVE pulling weeds and beautifying my yard but I dread it now. I have resorted to putting one of my goats inside our little fenced area so she can eat weeds rather than me picking them (can you say REDNECK?). For curiosity purposes, here is a link to see my house http://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes/kanarraville-ut/
scroll down, it is the house with the red roof and beat up car in the drive. My hubbie has his dream truck and I the family SUV but because of gas prices and his LONG commute, we own a Plymouth Neon who has seen better days. It was supposed to have been moved so that it wasn't in the ad pic, but it was out of gas. Have any of you drove home from work and parked your car and NOT realize that you were out of gas? I have never had this happen but shit like that happens to Jesse all the time so I wasn't too surprised. I hope the link works, I'm not too tech savvy. That is all I have, nothing funny, nothing to bitch about, just THAT.

BBQ Chicken

I have been trying, this summer, to become more independent around the house. I caulked a portion of the bathroom I've wanted done for some time but decided to quit complaining to my hubbie about it because he sure as hell wasn't going to do it. It turned out alright. I decided that BBQ chicken sounded good and very summery I might add but due to Jesse's shitty work schedule I would have to wait a few days for him to do the grilling. AHHHH... (insert heavenly sounds) I would buy a bag of charcoal and do it myself. I dumped the charcoal in the grill and tried to light it--nothing. I remember Jesse would add some gas, so I followed suit. Much to Dax's amusement, and two tries, I about lit myself on fire, almost shit myself and had an inferno for about 10 seconds. WTF??? I decided I would get a old limb from my apple tree and start it like a campfire. The stick burned for about 60 seconds and smoked like a son-of-a-bitch. Ok, I'm pissed now. I thought paper was the answer, and you can probably see what is coming from this. It burned and started floating away like paper does. GGGGRRRRREEEEAAAAT! I'm going to torch the whole neighborhood. I decided to come inside and preheat the friggin oven because I am obviously inapt to do this. No I'm not a complete moron: I put the lid on the grill so that the paper wouldn't ALL float away. After preparing the chicken and while waiting for preheat light to come on, I decided I would check on the grill. OMG--It was a smokin!! I opened it and the charcoal was turning grey!! YEA!! I ran inside and grabbed my plate of raw poultry and began slopping it onto the grill. At 20 minutes I checked on it and it's grilling nicely, just like on TV (with the yummy smell included of course). 45 minutes and I notice both sides are darkening....I realize I have absolutely NO idea how to tell if grilled chicken is done. I don't want to kill my family with some undercooked bird. WHAT DO I DO? Panic, darty eyes, constant flipping of the chicken pieces, slicing one open and realizing I don't know what I'm looking for... OHHHHHH SSSHHHHHIIITTTTT it'll be black in no time.
Oh good, Jesse just called he is running late but will be home in about 10 minutes. So much for BBQ independence.

List.....

I have a ton of bitching going on inside of me right now and no one is to blame and if I were to vent aloud many would be hurt...maybe.
1. My house isn't selling as fast as I had hoped and I'm afraid it will happen so that I will have to move at the same time I'm starting a new school year
2. My sister is still angry at me and I at her and it looks like nothing will fix it
3. Along with #2, my youngest needs a hair cut and because his hair is SOOOOO thick, course, and curly I don't trust just anybody to cut it and Day is still not speaking to me (I do understand it is a two way street, but heavy shit went down this time. Not just water under the bridge)
4. I had a niece born and was told her name was going to be Tori Rachel which is cutesy enough for a little girl but could be refined enough for a mature woman. Her mother changed her mind when baby was en route--Tori Kenzie is her name. Come on...that is either a little girl name forever or she will already have a stage name when doing unmentionable things to strange men holding dollar bills. I normally don't pass judgement on naming children, my children have "unique" but meaningful names but Tori's sister was named Brooklyn Nicole, what happened to...ugh I don't know how to explain.
5. I am taking a class toward my Master's (it is really short, like a crash course in 10 days) and the instructor decided we should break into pairs and teach the class an assigned chapter. I go tomorrow and I am totally freaking!!! I could talk to a room of 1000000000 students all day long, but give me 2 colleagues and I am a total flushed, babbling idiot.
6. Because of said class I haven't been able to make it to the gym and I feel like I'm gaining back pounds by the minute. It really helps my stress level by sweating my guts out and lifting weights until I can no longer hold my water bottle with one hand--so the freaking out is doubled because of non-attendance.
7. I haven't cleaned my house in days. Most of you wouldn't notice if you came by (I have cleanliness OCD) but I do and it really doesn't help things but I haven't the time to do it: class, kids, posting blogs.....
8. I've been trying to get used to my hair being fixed curly instead of straight because it is so humid in Maui that I thought I wouldn't even try the fight of straightening. I have now found that after 29 years of banishing my loose, ringlet perm-like curls they have finally gone by the wayside: NOW WHEN I WANT THEM!! Why must things go like that in life?

I guess I should get back to my power point, I'm hoping that the class will be so glued to it that they won't look at me then maybe I can assure myself I won't pass out. No, it hasn't gotten easier in fact I think the older I get the more afraid of speaking to a group I get. GREEEEAAAAAT!

Final note that has nothing to do with anything:
Tel just devoured his noodles like a dog even though the plate was on the table and the fork laid properly on the right side on top of a folded napkin. I did not see it happen, he came in to tell me about it because he was so proud of himself (FYI just in case you are calling me a hypocrite right now: Tel's name comes from a series of novels my husband is in love with and it means "story teller" which he is)

Tidbits from my boys

How do you teach a child to carry a tissue to catch the projectile snot or even get a tissue once said snot has shot? I am so proud of my 3 year old, he covers his face when he sneezes however he doesn't remember to carry the tissue until AFTER the sneezes shoot. He suffers from severe hay fever which is about the only thing, other than olive skin coloring, that he inherited from me. The poor baby will be woken from a deep 3 am sleep with his powerful snot and he will just sit there saying/yelling "mommy" until I wake up enough to get to the bathroom to retrieve the tissue or, if I was thinking at bedtime, grab the tissues I sat at my bedside. It is funny how bodily secretions do nothing to mothers--no fear whatsoever, no flinch, no surprise, no anything except the wish of the time when they are taken care of my the secreter.

The Huge Wiener Monster: As I sat here checking blogs and posting my hubbie popped by to give me a kiss goodbye on his way out to work. I gave him my full attention and realized that his "work" pants are hole ridden ALL in the crotch region. I told him as much and he shrugged it off however, my 8 year old took it and flew. He explained to his dad that one of these days "it" was going to just bust out of the hole (and made arm jesters, very largely, to represent what "it" would look like) and you'll just be a "HUGE wiener monster that will turn around and say AAARRGHH and trip an old lady". Yep, he meant trip her with "it". My hubbie was rolling... Dax was going off with this story and even though it was probably completely inappropriate, Jesse cracked up and seeing him laugh made me do the same. Oh boy the imagination my children have.

It makes sense--of course it does Tel

I've changed the title of my blog as a tribute to my 3 year old son. It is his new phrase and he uses it properly-kind of. For instance, I was putting his PJs on him and suggested he only wear the bottoms because the nights have been so warm and he replied "I want the top with the bottoms, it makes sense mom". Yes, it does. Tops go with bottoms even if you sweat your guts out all night and toss and turn so much your mother doesn't sleep a wink (yes, I am one of THOSE mothers who let their children sleep with them until they choose to sleep on their own--another topic, another time). It was an entire "Bob the Builder" ensemble so it did make sense. Like the PJ incident, my blog makes sense: the incoherence, the casual display of meaningful things in my life, the rude shit I talk about, etc are all part of who I am or mainly how I think JUMP... JUMP... JUMP... but I come up with really good thoughts while jumping around.

As I write this "intended to be short" post my fore mentioned son came out of the bathroom and asked/stated "Can I be naked? My shorts are sweaty and I need them off cuz my legs need fresh air on me" Naked doesn't mean bare ass to him, that is nakey or "woo woo". Naked is to be without pants; wearing underwear and a shirt. Tel and his cousins frequent this look daily at their grandma's house (the saint retired early to watch grand babies so all of us could continue our careers, at the end of this month she will be the charge of 5 children, 3 yrs and younger and an 8 year old--I emphasize SAINT), they all 3 prefer this and all 3 sets of parents do not but that is what g-ma's are for right. So Tel is naked watching "his shows", playing Star Wars guys and as content as a child can be. Again, naked is without pants--how many of us would like to be naked most of the time, oh hell maybe even nakey would be good in this weather. Happy first day of summer.

Staying At Home

Summers are always hard for me. I completely envy the patience of the stay-at-home parent--it's not for everyone. I only work part time but staying home day after day with my kids is beyond difficult. I find myself being not as patient as I am during the school year, zoning out when they are telling me some "important" story, and counting down, as soon as they wake up at 6 am, to their 8:30 bedtime. To make matters worse, I normally have my hubbie home for 3 days (his schedule is a 3 on, 3 off which is LOVELLLLLY!) but because due to him knowing me so well, he has worked overtime as much as possible so that I can have a spend frenzy in Maui and not come home in the red. It is so sweet of him because he works really hard and on nights he's gone way too much and misses us but I don't think it could possibly compare to how much I miss him. I have been a single mother for 4-5 days a week since summer began and this is NOT pretty on top of my needing to work outside the home. I have taken the boys to the movies twice, take them to the gym and swimming lessons daily, gone to my mother's to "slip and slide" on more than one occasion, my mother-in-law took them overnight last week, and of course the junk food movie days we have planned with one another. I still feel overwhelmed and depression sets in because I feel bad about not liking being home with my kids. Days like today do make it better though:
When I picked my boys up from the play center at the gym today every one of the ladies went on and on about how cute my kids are, how they are so helpful, and how polite they are (even my 3 year old), then I talk to another mother at swimming and she tells me how "neat" my oldest is because he is so caring and helpful to his fellow swim mates/friends. The other mothers of the 3-4 year olds were telling me how good my youngest is; he listens and tries everything the instructor asks, he has no fear of the water and even tries to use "big arms" (freestyle) while passing off the floating part of his class.
So even though I pretend to enjoy the obnoxious stories of the various fiction characters my son's tell me about and I will volunteer but roll my eyes when asked to be Lea or Padme they must know that I care about them and they put as much, if not more, stock into what I say as I do in what they say. To them and me each day is a learned lesson and I wouldn't give it up for all the nannies in the world. But yes, I'm looking forward to my vacay and then the beginning of the new school year because I feel I give them much more quality in my time than in the summer---FO SHO!!!

Summer Routine

I haven't posted in awhile and I feel bad about it. When I started this I was determined to be a regular poster but it seems as though it is harder to set aside time or come up with topics. So here is a post about my summer vacation so far.
Each day I go to the gym at 9:00. I hadn't went for a couple of weeks (last week of school chaos and trying to get into the summer routine set backs) and when I started back IT KICKED MY BUTT!!! I am still more sore each day than what I had worked up to but I think it is a good thing because I didn't lose at much tone/strength as I would have thought. Some days I just do cardio, some weights and cardio, and on Thursdays the same class I went to before only in the morning. Yep, still having to wear a pad because of the incessant jumping and my first day back to said class I fell on my ass. That's right folks...FELL. It happened so quickly I don't know exactly what happened but I do believe it had something to do with the tread of my shoes sticking to the tread on the work out stair and the other foot moving to the stair before first foot could 'unstick' itself. I didn't get hurt, was mildly embarrassed, and laughed soooooo hard at myself. After the gym I race my boys to swimming lessons which are at 10. Dax is in pre-swim team again this year. His ability is there but because of his age he isn't in the "competition group" which consists of junior high kids. Tel is in his second session of level 1. His first teacher recommended he go to level 2 because he, too, is a fish; but because of his age I chose one more session of level 1. At 11 we leave the pool and run any errands in town that need to be done because with the price of gas there is NO way in HELL I'm going back in. We get home around noon but have already ate at some junk food place which shoots my diet in the face. Then it is time for the house clean because YES it is for sale. No one has had a walk through but my realtor has had MANY calls and people are constantly stopping and grabbing a brochure. I know the market is slow and it has been listed for only two weeks, but I want it sold yesterday (remember my problem with impatience). Mondays and Fridays I take my grandma to her physical therapy, Tuesdays I work all day (summer "make up" school, it is cake-I read the entire time because very few people are there for social studies), and Wednesday, oh Wednesdays I despise you. Around 4:30 is when I get to sit down and NO my house hasn't been cleaned yet. Gym, swimming, grocery store, lunch, piano, feed pseudo farm....... I would like to excuse myself and go to bed now but my hubbie works a totally f-ed schedule and I think it would be considered neglect if I were to let my kiddos cook their own dinner and run their own baths. Anyhoooooooo. I'm sorry there is nothing exciting for me to talk about. Oh, wait there is!!! Next month will mark my 10 year wedding anniversary and I am going to Maui! I need to work out diligently, watch what I eat, and buy cute sun dresses with matching shoes cuz I'm gonna look GOOD in the pictures we bring back. It'll be just like a postcard baby. Well, that's my goal anyway.

Passion

As I sit here eating my faux Chinese take-out (Panda Express) I realize I have become a hypocrite. There was a time that I was neck deep in sociological study where I protested Internet filters on university computers, when I would have packed up my newborn son and joined a freedom march cross country had it been the era. I was going to rid the world of inequality, starting with not gender socializing my son. Now I am signing the child up for football, second year now. To my defense: he sleeps with a teddy bear, is the sweetest male I have ever known, and has to concentrate on being aggressive. I have no passion for anything anymore, I teach sociology but cannot transfer my lost passion to my students. I feel like I'm not on the cutting edge of society, as if I have been caught up in the herd and am just following the ewe in front of me. I have "settled" for the mundane life of mother, wife, teacher....I say "settled" because I was going to be the INNOVATIVE of those roles. The mother unexpected, the beyond equal spouse, and the best damn teacher that ever walked. I need to find a new passion that fits with my Beaver Cleaver life I happened on. How do I do this? Or how do I rekindle the passion that once was but adapt it to dinner at 6, baths at 7, and bedtime at 9?

For Sale

The sign is in the ground!!! Today, well yesterday, I began the scrub the floors, walls, ceilings, lights, and everything else that someone might scrutinize routine for today the realtor came and took pictures that will be posted online! I am not as tech savvy as some of you, I cannot add links to this shit nor can I post pics that I took myself so I must rely heavily on my skill of painting a picture with words. My house is spotless even for my standards. So "put together" that my realtor (oh, we ended up going with a realtor because a friend of ours said it helps weed out the broke ass weirdos who kill time by pilfering your prized possessions) said "Darcie, it is unnecessary for your house to be perfect for every showing". Hmmmmm...... does she know me??? I FREAK out when I am going to entertain family and close friends, WTF am I going to do knowing that strangers are deciding whether or not to make the biggest purchase of their lives. MAJOR pressure. How do you get beyond this? I am also freaked because I worry that my house will not sell. I want someone to make an offer tomorrow so that my ego and love for my dwelling is validated. I know it is ridiculous thinking, but it creeps into the fore front of my thoughts periodically and I don't know how to banish it all together. I am so excited and yet so nervous. I know this is what I want to do but I want it done....yesterday. I hate the wait, the worry, the staging. For all of you who have sold a house (not during the house buying spree but during the "normal" selling/buying times) how did you get through this? How long will it take for someone to buy my house? How much should I stage? clean? Please, oh please, even those of you who don't comment do so anonymously if you must. I need answers. It's like going to the hospital to give birth to your first child and never reading or taking a child birth class. You know it will take awhile, but how long and how much pain is it going to inflict? Please help me.

nothing resembling organized thoughts

I am on here because I am looking up how to broil sirloin steak. I began learning how to cook about 7 years ago when my oldest son needed to start eating REAL food and due to my hubbie's shitty work schedule. J isn't always here at night to cook us dinner and it was ok for me to go without but I couldn't let my kid go without and Hot Pockets and other frozen delights aren't really what I wanted to raise my child on. As you can see I haven't found the recipe and I'm having a difficult time doing so because I am surfing and now blogging because I haven't done so in a LONG time. Today is J's 30th birthday. He is at work and won't return until way past our dinner time but I thought it would be nice of me to cook his fave meal and have it waiting for him when he arrives. I wanted to do something special for his big day but he wasn't into it. I got him a couple little gifts so that my boys could watch him unwrap something. J will probably be mad because he told me not to buy him anything. It isn't the "I don't want to admit I'm growing older so I will ignore my birthday and force everyone else to ignore it too" syndrome, he just hates the big "to do's" I do for holidays, birthdays, and other special occasions. I was raised this way. Birthdays were as big as a "normal" family's Christmas, 4th of July, Pioneer Day, and Halloween celebrations lasted two days, I would walk into a bedroom loaded with "valentines" after school each year, Easter encompassed new outfits and a loaded basket, and Christmas was obscene. I am speaking in past tense but it still continues today. Santa Claus still visits my parent's house for my sister and I (and our kids). My mom's nickname is literally "Miss Holiday", given to her by my father. We were by no means rich when I was a child. My family qualified for state aid. My mom just pulled cash out of her ass when she felt it was necessary--HOLIDAYS!! I was talking to my aunt the other day and she said that she saw my mom wandering around the store and asked what she was looking for. My mom said she didn't know for sure but she needed to get a gift for "my girls" (my sister and I) for the end of the school year because this is what she has always done. Yes, she does give us a "end of school year" gift every year. When we were in school it was an obvious celebration, and yes, I do teach now so it could be carried over. But what about Day??? She doesn't attend nor work at a school and technically I don't need a "graduated another grade level" gift anymore. Chances are she will get one for the grand kids too: 1 for completing Kindergarten, 1 for completing the 2nd grade, and 2 for entering pre-school next year. That is TRULY how she justifies her celebrations. It is very corny but oh so sweet. I love my mom and the only thing that makes her happy to her toes is doing something nice for someone else. I have fallen victim to her footsteps, hence the gifts where there was no desire, the dinner I don't know how to cook, and the cake that I will probably eat myself and gain a huge ass for the summer. Happy Birthday J! I love you Mom, thanks for teaching me to celebrate life, with gifts!!!

Hives

So I broke out in hives on Sunday afternoon, for no apparent reason. It was the last day of a too much fun weekend out of town with my hubbie and I was changing into my bathing suit so that I could spend my last 1 1/2 hours before check out poolside. There they were. Not itching yet but welts, splotches, red bumps--no mistaking hives. I hadn't used new products on myself, I wasn't having a bout of hay fever, I don't know what caused them. Here it is Tuesday afternoon and I still have them on both arms, on my left leg, and of all the worse places: my forehead. After telling different people about my strange break out they replied with "are you stressed" and I replied "no, I was having a good time. I don't know what brought them on". After further analysis I am starting to think they are stress related. The end of the school year is in a couple of weeks, I have to finish and submit 2 different portfolios in the next week, I have to go out of town again for another conference and my sub (whom I asked months ago) bailed on me last minute and I was having a hard time finding someone else (god bless you Forrest, I don't know what I would do if you didn't volunteer), my oldest son has half a dozen god forsaken things happening at and after school to celebrate the end of another school year, my in laws (uncles and grandmother, not parents) are making our sell and move damn near impossible because they want to ensure their kids can build when ready which is ridiculous why should we make it easy for them when it is so freakin hard for us, I "heard" there is a gentleman looking for a house in my little town and is willing to pay what I want to ask for but I don't dare put my house up for sell until I'm guaranteed a building lot THIS F-ING YEAR, my husband has now decided that he wants to use a realtor but is thinking about adding a basement to our new house so "Darcie I know you have found your perfect floor plan but now you need to find another with a basement even though you have never wanted a basement", I need to prep my house for possible buyers but don't know what to do because I don't want to put in more time/money/work than the bare minimum because I am ready to be done with it, my lawn looks so shitty this year and I don't know why or what to do I have always been blessed with green thumb when it comes to the out of doors but this year I am gardening challenged----OH GOD I'M ITCHING MORE JUST VENTING ABOUT THE SHIT!
To end on a positive note: I had a blast this weekend. I indulged in EVERYTHING too much but enjoyed every minute of it. Caught up with old friends, met new ones, danced with fun girlfriends and not so fun slutty friends, ran into high school friends and reminisced, requested great songs from my life to an awesome band, danced and sang at the top of my lungs to the songs (along with all the other bagillion people in the place). It was the best annual golf tournament I have gone to--thank you Jesse and let's do it again next year!

Pre-Staging Clean Up

So we haven't gotten the official "ok" from the building department about whether or not we can build on "the farm" but we are fixed on the idea that we are doing so: we have picked out a floor plan, set a price for our home, talked to and about a realtor (and decided against it), surfed about info for selling a home, etc. I have come across many an article that talks about the staging of the home for prospective buyers but before you get to that point you must first get rid of "personal" touches and clean out cupboards and make them resemble the grocery store because if it is tidy in the cupboard the buyer will believe you take great care with your "things", including the house they may buy. I fancy myself a neat freak, I love to clean and my house is COMPLETELY organized--or so I thought. Last summer my husband remodeled our kitchen (complete gut and rebuild) and I now have many cupboards which I wasn't blessed with before. Before, I had a food cupboard, a dish cupboard, a tupperware cupboard, a glasses cupboard, and a "machine" cupboard (slow cookers, bread maker, rice cooker, blender, etc.) Once I moved into my new kitchen I willy nilly put things away and I now regret it. I just finished re-organizing my kitchen cabinets. I had canned goods in all cabinets except those that held plates WTF! I put them all in the "canned good" cabinet that is on the bottom and organized it like freakin Albertson's. I had NO idea how many cans of whole kernel corn I had (we must like it and I continue buying it before checking on what I already own). My kitchen now makes sense but we have to reprogram ourselves when getting the salt and pepper and the like--nothing is where it once was, oh except the cereal. When I finish here I am tackling my bathroom. I would like to know how does one not become a pack rat in the bathroom? How can I get beyond the "I may want/need this one day"? Come on, how many bath cubes does a woman really need--I don't even take baths, I shower!!!

Face the CH-CH-CH-changes

I have lived in the same house for the last 9 years. It is in the same little town I grew up in and vowed to leave once I was of age yet chose to come back to when I found out I had a bun in the oven. To put even more emphasis on my house: my maternal grandfather lived in it for a period when he was in his teens and my father was raised, from birth, in this house. I love my house and vowed I would never leave it. It sits on a WHOLE acre of land that houses my various farm animals, has 12+ mature fruit trees and an ungodly amount of mature "other" trees. Yet, it has only 1 bathroom and I am the only female in the place. My little family has outgrown it and as sad as I will be to leave we need to, oh, and one other little thing: we would be COMPLETELY out of debt if we sold it and built elsewhere. I have pretty much gotten over the initial mourning and I know it will return if/when we move and now I am hearing that we may not be able to move because of some jack ass new ordinance the county made regarding the houses built on family farms (which is where we have land: Jesse's family farm). I have been dropped off of my shiny little optimistic and excited cloud. Now I'm being overly pessimistic, it has not proven to be impossible Jesse still needs to look further into it (and he's not moving as fast as I want because when I want something I wanted it yesterday, I'm impatient once I have set my mind on something). I've been looking at floor plans and pretty much decided on what I want. Now I have to get my house and yard in selling shape. This is where you come in. Many of you have recently moved/sold homes what do I do to prep my house so that people will immediately fall in love and buy it? Then, what is the best way to approach the whole pack and move shit to storage so you can live in a small rental for a couple of months? Help me, I've never done this before, Jesse and I went from our newly wed rental to this house so we didn't own much at the time. Please comment.

Tweeker

That is how I've been feeling for the last few weeks. You'd think I would gain a tolerance over 30 years, but still waiting. I have had super bad allergies since birth and the warm spring weather combined with the strong winds (just the last 4 days) have really sent me in a tailspin. Watery, itchy eyes; runny, stuffy, itchy nose; itchy throat; sinus headaches; and coughing like a 20 year smoker. I HATE IT, but not as much as I hate being on my meds. I really don't know how people become tweekers (noun; person addicted to amphetamines/speed). I take my meds to relieve the symptoms (which I have yet to find a pill that takes away all of my allergy problems for the day--any suggestions?). I really appreciate the initial burst of energy and ideas: I come up with good lessons while high and I can clean a house in record time! But next comes the cotton mouth: I drink water like a fish, am constantly licking my lips and wiping the sides of my mouth, not to mention my inability to speak fluidly. If I were a high school student I would've turned my ass in for the blatant display of extra curricular activities. Next is the blood shot and dilated eyes. I actually put Visine in twice before I leave the house in hopes of ridding the redness. The worse part is the paranoia--side effect of the pseudo ephedrine. I just know people are looking at me and thinking "she is high as a kite", my students are thinking "Mrs Hirschi knows how to roll". People are going to think I'm snorting a line every time I go to the restroom. At night, once the pill wears off, I realize that it was nonsense paranoia brought about by the allergy med and try to talk myself out of the irrational thoughts I will have the next day. How can anyone get beyond the irrational paranoid thoughts that come with amphetamines? NOTHING is worth it--even the much needed energy. Well, I think I will eat dinner and shower so that I can begin my pep talk about what is reality and what are just crazy thoughts brought about by a day of popping allergy meds, as prescribed.

Which is worse: pads or pissing yourself?

I didn't start my period until I was 13 years old and in the 9th grade, my younger sister started long before me; she was in the 6th or 7th grade (I know TMI but I have to set the stage). For most young girls you learn about these things from friends and older siblings, the stuff your mother tells you goes in one ear and out the other because you cannot get out of the room fast enough--MY GOD WOMAN WHY ARE YOU SAYING THESE THINGS THAT EMBARRASS THE PISS OUT OF ME??? I learned from my friends and my little sister. My mother would only buy Day pads for her time of the month (mommy didn't have one anymore, emergency hysterectomy) and Day was fine with it, I guess. She was a major tomboy and told my parents that she just "wasn't going to have it". My mom's reply was "good luck with that". Day was either unaware of tampons or didn't want to deal with other methods. Anywaaaaayyyyyy.... when I finally started I realized that none of my friends wore pads, not to mention how uncomfortable I was while wearing them, if I started at a friends house I was SOL and had to call mommy to bring me the mature diapers. I was finally sick of wearing the things--with wings, without wings, overnight, regular, long--it didn't matter I was done. When I asked my mother to buy me tampons you would have thought I told her I just slashed the throats of our elderly neighbor. DISGUST!! "Do you know what kind of girls wear those? Loose girls, you know the EASY ones" and my all time favorite "you and your sister should probably not try tampons because when your aunt and I did it was terrible--our insides were pulled out when we removed them". WTF! Yep, I was scared and ashamed, good work mom. As I have mentioned in prior posts, one of the styles of my high school years was skin tight pants which do not cooperate with maxi/mini/liner pads. I saved up my lunch money (it wasn't too hard to do, I only needed $4 a week for smokes and $1 a day for a Pepsi---oh the life....) and bought my own damn box of tampons. My first purchase was Tampax Super, which my friend Lindi made a comment about but it wasn't because I was slutty and everything else would fall out it was because I bleed like Niagara falls!! I diligently read and followed the pictorial instructions included in the box. Everything went well, I was so much comfier. I feared the time to remove it, I was scared to death. How would I explain my internal female reproduction system now being external to my mother? I waited until that bad boy was so full the string was tinged. I sat on the toilet silently praying my mom wouldn't kill me if the inside out turn didn't, I pulled and it was difficult (nerve tension) but it came out and nothing else did. HOORAY!! I don't have to explain myself to my mother, she would not think I was a slut and I wouldn't bleed to death from my internals becoming external!! Life was good. I had to hide my boxes of tampons in my room and completely wrap in TP what didn't flush. I finally could come clean to my mother when I was 17 and graduating from high school. She didn't look as ashamed of me then, huh?
Last night I went to my cardio blast class again and wore the damn pad. I don't know which is worse: pissing yourself or wearing a pad when you don't need it? All of the above memories were brought to surface while I was attaching the wings around. We didn't do the jumping jacks--SON OF A BITCH!!! I swear, I can't win for nothing.

Bitches

When the male turkey approaches a female or a group of females he flairs his tail feathers, which are beautiful, puffs out his chest so he appears more masculine and does a type of dance that proves to the female that he is more special than the next guy. When a human female approaches a group of human females she sucks in her gut, holds her shoulders back as far as possible so that her boobs look extra large/perky, and puts on her best fake smile to prove to the other females that she is super nice and wants to be accepted all the while she is inspecting every physical aspect of the group. It doesn't matter if you are the super skinny chick with the tight ass and perky tits or the "bigger boned" sweet spirit (who truly does think of others before herself) we all do this. We compare ourselves with all the other females we encounter and quietly inside our calculating mind we are thinking "yea if I had $50,000 burning a hole in my pocket I'd talk to your doctor and order your body too" or "who does she think she is I know that no one is that nice what the hell does she want" or "not a bad ass, I wish I had the will power for the squats it took to get that" or any of the other thoughts we play with. Why are all women bitches, why do we feel we must compare ourselves to others who share the same insecurities? I wonder these things but I, too, am guilty of thinking nasty things. I have a friend who not only thinks these things but says them out loud. I love her to death and she totally cracks me up, but what the hell. I had just purchased a new pair of jeans (I was out of town and had forgotten the flats that went with the jeans I packed. I tried to find new flats but no avail) and she was commenting on the brand they were and the price they might have been. Who the f--- cares, you could buy them too and you probably do but I don't say shit about it. I don't think she meant anything by it but we were in a crowd of people, most of whom I do not know, and I felt a tad bit insecure. I understand we all think these things, but please don't say it out loud. I am guilty of a similar situation: like you all know I go to the gym religiously. Anyway I also have to take a monthly teacher training class where I have a classmate (an elementary teacher--I have no idea of her name or school) who also goes to the gym regularly. This teacher is stick thin, maybe a size 1--just really tiny so she is able to wear those lycra tops that we see women wear on the bowflex commercial. The problem is she chooses not to wear a bra. I do understand that she has zero body fat and could easily go without one in everyday clothing but in the workout gear it is totally poke your eye out, don't get to close. I don't speak to her at the gym or at our teacher prep class but I am constantly thinking "do you really think you look hot with your RT at the gym" everywhere I see her. I am such a bitch! A nice person would tactfully speak to her about the new crayon look because maybe she is totally unaware. I don't know how to do this but it would be nice. The point of all this incoherence is that we all think evil things and maybe we could work on being nicer.

End note: if you came walking out of the restroom with your skirt tucked into your thong, I would tell you and it probably wouldn't be tactful.

I Believe I Peed My Pants

A couple of weeks ago I spoke to a friend of mine, who coincidentally is a personal trainer at the gym, about my plateau. I think because she is my friend she wouldn't officially take me on as a client--I would have to pay an ungodly amount of money for her ideas/suggestions. She explained that I must change what I eat (namely cut out carbonation and sugar... YIKES!!) and start attending her Monday night cardio blast class which would jump start my metabolism again. Last week was my first time at the class and it kicked my butt, BUT I kept up with the girls who have been attending the class since it began. We start the class with 3 minutes of jumping jacks and it gets harder from there. I now know what Kegals are for and it has NOTHING to do with sex. Last week I experienced a little seepage (sp?) during the up and down jarring of jumping jacks, but as I saw flocks of girls excuse themselves to the restroom I realized I wasn't alone. But my seepage was in no way large enough to clean up and the time I was going to get extremely sweaty in a moment I don't think one is worse than the other. Last night I went to the class again, and again with the jumping jacks. I believe I peed my pants. I didn't know what to do!! I excused myself to the restroom along with the others and realized that this was going to be an issue, how was I suppose to cover this one??? I didn't want to miss the class nor did I want to go back in and get my water bottle and look like a pussy (like I couldn't work out anymore!!). I was so fearful of 1 people seeing that I peed my pants and 2 that I wimped out when I was so proud of myself for keeping up my first week. So I did the 'ol put TP in your underwear and hope for the best. I checked myself out in the bathroom mirror before going back to class and as my sweatshirt was tied around my waist you could not see a thing. I finished the class with everyone else and when I got home realized that my sweat had covered up the wet mark at the crotch of my pants--now they were completely soaked! I have learned a valuable lesson though--next week I will wear a pad.

Missing Thang

This a total bummer of a post. It is going to be my tiny violins playing a sad tune but as I have explained before, you, dear audience, are my whipping boy therefore you get the opportunity to hear my verbal vomit. Here goes. A really good friend of mine has now returned to rehab and I am sad. Let me preface this vent with how our relationship began. As a junior in high school I found that all of my friends had chosen to experiment with heavy drugs (I plead the 5th) and sleep with Southern Utah University football players. I was not the goody two shoes type but I had seen what addiction did to people and didn't even want to experiment and far too many of my friends were blessed with babies before graduating high school. Because I didn't join I found myself sitting at home alone many a friday night and I was sick of it. My little sister (who is 19 months younger, but 2 years behind me in school) and I ran around with the same crowd but her two closest friends (S and C) were akin to us and chose not to sample college boys---they were so kind as to let me join in with them. So the weekends were us 4 girls being transported by my boyfriend (now my hubbie) to his guy friends parties. Good times! After high school I attended the fore mentioned SUU but was living at home and wanting to at least move into my own place. I had stayed friends with S and C and suggested it to them and my sister, Day. Day and S were going to hair school and weren't ready for the jump but C was. She and I moved into a 2 bedroom basement apartment together and had the best times of our lives. C ended up having a son who is 2 years older than my oldest and they are best friends. C ended up marrying a childhood friend of mine who has become a really good friend of my hubbies. C later had twin daughters who are 2 years older than my youngest yet the 3 of them love playing together--in fact I hosted a play date today. C became addicted to prescription pain medication and it almost killed her and I lost my good friend. I only talked to her when it concerned our kids or hubbies but did not spend time with her as we always had done. C hit rock bottom, tried to kill herself and was admitted to a mental hospital to later be transferred to a rehab. C came home almost 9 months ago back to her old self and I was sooooo happy. We had a girl party and caught up on old times, we spoke on the phone together, we sat and chatted about nothing and then one day I noticed that she was far more outgoing than natural. Next I noticed slurred speech and next thing I know she tells me in between uncontrollable sobs that she screwed up and was caught by her mom and hubbie--she was going to have to leave again BUT----- SHE told me this time and she told me before she left. Last time I got the news second hand after it was a done deal. I am so sad now. I have lost my friend again and no, she cannot have contact with the "outside" until she is detoxed so it will be at least a week then I have to wait for her to contact me. She has gotten stronger than the last time and the slip up statistics are totally against her but I know she can kick this shit. I hope so, I miss her.

School Girl Giddiness

As I was doing the nightly trips to and from the kitchen getting everyone their bottles of water before bed, I noticed my hubbie perusing my blog. I emphasize the word notice, this I did with my eyes not ears---I thought he said I was funny???? I didn't hear the slightest chuckle. Afterward I asked what he thought and all he came up with was "the last post made me sound like an asshole and maybe the stories aren't funny to me because I know what happened before I read them". Me being the asshole was the point of the last post I pointed out (were any of you confused on that?). Why is his approval so important? Why do I care if I impress him? We've been married for almost 10 years and dated for the 5 years before that and I think I am still smitten! I do the most stupid things to get him to notice and make a comment. I want him rolling on the ground in pain from laughing so hard at the shit I write about. I bust my ass to get the house spotless in the few hours I have in between work and when he gets home so he will say things like "gee, how do you do it? You're awesome". What, am I in 5th grade? Do we never progress from the silly, flutter, do impossible shit to get attention stage that we go through when first attracted to someone? I don't know if this is a good thing because we haven't lost that show off stuff, or if it bad because we have yet to take our relationship to a higher level (or maybe this is the highest???). I am definitely not a love, relationship, or marriage counselor but I do know there is NOT a perfect relationship out there. I guess I should be happy that my relationship's (can a relationship have ownership?) biggest flaw is the lack of getting beyond the school girl shit (oh yea and we don't fight about only the problems now we drudge up 15 years worth of oppression) but that is a different story.

Dahli Lhama (sp?)

I have just realized that I have become far too into myself. For years I lived for my relationship with my boyfriend, completely abandoning who I was, what I did, and who I did it with. Then that turned into living for my hubbie (same as before mentioned boyfriend) but now it was not only not having a life outside of married togetherness it also included scrubbing toilets, washing another person's dirty underwear, oh and picking them up first from wherever hubbie discarded, and cooking (this was NEW, I had NEVER cooked before and to this day I'm not very good). Along came kiddo #1 and lo and behold life change! My days revolved around what he wanted, needed, or what he didn't want or need. Again no social life outside of park, family, to and from school, and work. I lived for my son and he has turned out awesome. This continued into my life revolving around 2 sons and one day I looked at myself in the mirror, realized I had gained 30 pounds, didn't have a career (just a job), dressed like a 40 year old grandmother, took pride in having the cleanest house in the entire country, etc... I was done, what happened to ME? I worked my ass off, literally. Dropped about 35 lbs, trashed my clothes and started spending money on myself--not Jesse, not the boys, ME. My house has gone to hell, my boys are still spoiled and I do all the "what makes you a better hands on parent" shit, but I think I have, again, went too far on the spectrum. My life now revolves around the gym, shopping for shoes and clothes, going on vacations (with and without my boys), constant change in hair color, cut, style--I need a fresh start to find a happy medium and I think the answer lies with the Dahli Lhama. Didn't John Lennon regroup with those guys? He came back with all the answers he needed--like what parties should he go to, where should the band play next, should the band get back together (all the important famous rockstar dilemmas). No I'm serious. I know you guys think I am the biggest bitcher but I save it all for you. I am sickening peppy at school, super mom with my boys, and a so-so wife someone has to take the brunt of it all. Help me, how do you find a happy medium between being you and being this role of mom/wife/housekeeper/super teacher/tutor/farm hand/pornstar (nah, I'm just kidding with that one :) ) Downer post I know but I had to vent!

Easter

I have a couple of topics rolling around inside of my head today, both have to do with Easter but are pretty much unrelated. Why do we spend countless hours and take many a opportunity to teach our children not to lie (and by god do not go around talking about imaginary thoughts as if they were reality) while at the same time we pound it into their malleable minds that there is a ginormous rabbit who visits annually to drop off TOO much candy and "prizes" they do not need? My youngest is TERRIFIED of the Easter bunny, just the mention of him gets the child rambling about how he won't come into our house he will just leave the basket (or the sand pail as in the case of my children for the past 3 years) outside. Tel is completely afraid of this huge bunny (he has seen the "real" Easter bunny at the annual main street park Easter egg hunt they have in our "city"); but what is not to fear. We have had rabbits on our pseudo farm before and the kids have held them, fed them, and accidentally released them from their bunny prison to enter bunny hell which consists of running their asses off trying to get away from the common stray dog; but at no time did we have a pet rabbit the size of their father. We have had animals grow to uncommon sizes, but come on! I assured Tel that the Easter bunny would only leave his basket and not bother him at all--" there is no reason to worry, you've seen Quin (our border collie) chase the rabbits in the hills" (this did bring about deep gut killing laughs out of the child and all was well). This leads to my second topic of the evening: what the bunny brought. I am sick of my children accumulating SHIT! The stocking shit, the McDonald's shit, the birthday goodie bag shit, the "grandma gave me a surprise" shit--ALL the shit. So this Easter I was determined to stock the basket, aka pail and shovel, with something they would use rather than stuff in a toy bin to be forever forgotten. Both boys received Discmans (I know, outdated with MP3's and all but come on: 8 years old and 3 years old) and a CD. Great idea especially because we went camping 3 hours away and the ride home after devouring half of the chocolate contents in said pail would've been more than mommy could handle. My eldest got a CD with various 1970's famous guitar rock songs on it, ever since the "Guitar Hero" addiction he has been a huge fan of "oldies" (as he says, I am not quite old enough to categorize them as such), Tel got a 2 disk compilation of Easter/Kids songs. Tel put on his headphones and we didn't hear a word from him until we got home and since we've been home if the headphones are on he only communicates to us if we are bothering him. Discman=great idea for baskets!!

Quit Your Damn Whining...

That is exactly the response I would get from my mother, whom I so dearly love, whenever I was saddened by anything, worrying about anything, just any negative vent I had on my mind.
I know second blog today. You're probably thinking WTF doesn't this chick have any responsibilities--but that is just it. I have had a lot of time to think today, my youngest had an abnormally long nap. I had the hardest time being my normally peppy self at work today. Remember, I am a social studies teacher at an alternative high school. I usually really enjoy being at work, take pride in what I teach, and try to project my love of learning to my students but today I couldn't muster up a real smile-- yet I put on a pretty good fakie. Today was the first day of the 4th, and last, quarter. Friday afternoon I was pumped for today: fresh start, last stretch we were going to do great things; today NOTHING. I went back to school, earned a 2nd BS and accumulated more student loans, because I wanted to teach. It was the ONLY thing I wanted to do and yet today I am asking myself "what the hell am I doing". I have no great ideas for my new unit in geography and I'm getting a new student in there at the same time. My psychology enthusiasm has vanished and my strongest most unquestionable love of US government has gone by the wayside---I couldn't even remember who wrote the friggin Bill of Rights. I didn't want to be there, I don't want to be there tomorrow, what has happened to me. I am saddened and disappointed in myself: the self-proclaimed peppy instructor and striver of teacher of the year. Help me, don't give me smarmy shit, I don't need my ego boosted, I need answers: why is this happening and how the hell can it leave/change?? So instead of spending excessive time online creating new activities for class I have blogged twice, written to and replied to every friend I have via email--I will now indulge myself in some Myspace catch up (yes, I am still falling victim to its lure). At this time I will pretend I have bawled my eyes out and vented to my mother all of the thoughts I have posted and think to myself how she would and has always replied "oh, quit your damn whining nobody has it easy"

Clothes from high school????

So maybe I'm stealing a bit of my piece from a friend of mine, but I am expanding. Should I attach a cite reference page??? I don't think she'll care.
Who the hell can wear clothes from high school? I could until I got married, 10 freakin years ago!! I was reading a blog and the comments people were adding, both were about items of clothing that a person has owned the longest and low and behold there was an individual who not only stated she has children but that she owns and occasionally wears clothing from high school. You all know my internal battle with weight (actually food) management and my addiction to the gym and NONE of my goals include wearing the size from high school. Bearing children, alone, makes it physically impossible to squeeze into that size. And before I go on I should mention that while in high school the fad was to wear "too tight" pants which, at the time, I had to lay on the floor (first thing in the morning--NO BREAKFAST ALLOWED, may cause bloating) and have my sister work the zipper up while I tried to work the pants together. It was accomplished day after day and DAMN I looked good. But this is nowhere ever going to happen again (the same size thing, not the squeeze into too small pants--come on don't lie to yourselves). If you have never been pregnant or given birth you still have to come to the realization that maturity did occur. A mature female is blessed with wider hips and the lovely cellulite deposits that were necessary for survival eons ago. When will we evolve to the point where our fat deposits match our technological advances of central heating!! Ok, it has now become apparent that it boils down to jealousy not really astonishment. Why can one girl still wear clothes from high school when others, myself, are just trying to get back to the ballooning size (or so I thought it was at the time, but would kill for now) brought about by the first prescription of birth control?

Bras

Due to my influx of bacne in the last couple of months I have tried to remove my sweaty gym clothes ASAP. Today was not an exception, however my husband being home at the time was. I changed into a loose t-shirt choosing not to put a bra back on because of the locking in the sweat shit I was trying to rid myself of in the first place. After making myself a snack and sitting down at the table to eat it my husband gives me a puzzled look and says "are you going commando"? For those of you (I hope not many) who don't know what this originally was: it is when someone is going without underwear (normally a guy, normally bottoms). WTH? Am I appalling, is he becoming old and prudish, or was it too much to handle LOL! Who knows, I was starving. I shrugged at him and said "yea, so what". That was it. Where is it written that anyone has to where a bra anywhere? They are NOT comfortable and the sexier they are the more uncomfortable the bra becomes. I would choose to not wear bras and instead apply those little stripper stars to prevent the new crayon syndrome that we get to sport whenever we get goose bumps. Why didn't anyone invent some insane little device, that includes wire nonetheless, to help boys when they go through puberty. What is the difference between sagging tits and a hard on? They are equally embarrassing and, depending on the person, can make for a very awkward situation. I think I will look into the invention of bras, I'm sure it was a man who came up with the marvelous idea and it was probably the same man who said "boys, if you feel one coming on and you need to stand in front of others, just untuck your shirt". A baggy untucked shirt would've been fine for us women too, asshole.

The Gym, again. Surprised?

Today I was late getting to the gym. I had students who made up tests during lunch then had to go to the store--we were out of the essentials. Anyhoo... (FYI I really hate it when people say that) I was only able to do 45 minutes of cardio today (treadmill @ full incline--HOLY SHIT & bike) no weights; sorry to miss dealing with you today meatheads. As I was sweating my ass off (that is the goal right: ass=off) I watched "others" come in and do their thing. HELLO, two pregnant girls came in (one is maybe 3 months and the other ready to POP) they did a harder workout than I do!! My pregnancies were not so, um should we say "pretty". As I have stated in the past I gained close to 80 pounds each time and my boys only weighed 7 lb 4 oz and 7 lb 11 oz. I am in bed hooked up to IVs to rehydrate because of my hyperemesis (means major puker, I'm allergic to estrogen which was very strange to hear) after the doctors get me on meds that control the puking I am still worthless. I have zero energy, my sciatic nerve is pinched for about 6 of the 9 months so I walk weird, my hands go numb from carpal tunnel syndrome from unknown pregnancy related reasons, and I eat like there is no tomorrow because of the lack of food until I get the right meds. How the hell do these girls look so good? From behind you would never know they had a bun in the oven--I was as wide as a brahma bull (I believe that is what Jesse called me not realizing I would break down in tears and not appreciate the joke...he didn't say anything like it again). Isn't pregnancy suppose to be the time when it is ok to get fat and be lazy why would anyone put themselves through the tortuous gym if society didn't influence them? Why would you want to put on "work out" clothes made of some synthetic tight ass material and strut your stuff? I guess if you have it flaunt it, I on the other hand had WAY too much to flaunt. Oh and I didn't want every man at the gym becoming abstinent due to the visual of what can happen after the horizontal mambo session. I haven't decided if those girls have either way high self esteem (they don't give a shit what they look like-they do look good- or who cares) or way too low (way afraid of what not losing the baby weight will look like).
It really isn't any of my business, but what else do I have to think about while I'm sweating my ass off? You'd do it too.