Davy's dirt

For Davy's birthday, I decided to buy him the gift I thought he'd like best. Dirt.

Yes, good old dirt. Here in the Ozarks, digging is hard. Dig an inch and you hit rock. No fun for a little boy who likes to dig in dirt.

Last year, I got to see Davy with access to a dirt pile for over a week. It was his Papa's dirt. Every day Davy would say, "Papa, is this your dirt? I love your dirt! Can I have your dirt?" His Papa always answered, "As much as you can carry."

When Davy was supposed to be napping, he would stand and stare out the window. If you asked what he was doing, he answered, "Watching my dirt."

He played everyday in that dirt, digging with spoons, making holes, making roads, driving toy tractors and bulldozers through it.

I warned Hillery, I would be buying him his own dirt for his birthday. And so, I did. 1400 pounds of dirt. When he saw me dumping it out, he said, "What are you doing with the more dirt?" I said, "It's Davy's dirt. It's for your birthday." He responded with a grin, saying "Davy LOVES dirt! I'm gonna get my tractor!" Dragging his excavator to his dirt, he immediately began playing. With each bag Hillery and I carried in we had to ask him to move so we could dump it on the pile.

Before anyone (else) asks, Hillery was cool with the dirt. People keep seeming shocked about this. They seem to think she should be mad that I gave Davy dirt. More laundry, more mess, all the mud! That's what people keep saying. I say it's a summer of outside activity. Boys will find dirt whether you give it to them or not. I just gave him some he could actually dig in.

My mom and most of the people around our age, including my husband who is still unconvinced that Hillery still likes me, think this is a very strange gift. Hillery's parents and my grandparents think it's genius. I think they remember from having little boys that dirt happens, and dirt covered little boys are happy boys.

So, without further ado, here are some pictures of Davy's dirt.
The dirt from Oklahoma did not have rocks, sand or twigs in it, but the dirt from Ohio had some rocks, a little sand and a couple twigs. The Oklahoma dirt was darker in color, too. What I learned from this is that Lowe's dirt is 1 cent more than Walmart's dirt, but well worth the extra penny. Here Davy is showing me the rocks he picked out of his dirt. Later, these were all being stored in the scoop part of his excavator.




A happy, dirty birthday boy.













Making good use of all his tractors, trucks, bulldozers, excavators, trowels and hand rakes. Just a boy and some dirt. In other words, pure contentment.

The days of Davy

Davy's birthday was 10 days ago. I am late blogging about it, because I had trouble with getting the pictures I wanted for the blog onto the computer. Davy turned 4. As Hillery said, it seems very big. He has completely left toddlerhood behind. He's a "big kid" n0w. I knew he had changed, but I did not know how much until I looked at this sequence of pictures:

This picture was taken in May of 2007. It is still one of my very favorite pictures of Davy, speaking volumes about his affectionate and caring nature.






This one was taken in May of 2008, on a visit to the train museum at Grant Beach Park. He already had lost some of the "babyishness" of the previous year.






This is his 3rd birthday last June. (Side note: How did his hair grow so much in just one month??)









And here he is on his 4th birthday. Crazy. He changed so much in that one year.











Happy Birthday, Little Boy. I can't wait to see how much you change in the next year. It seems like you've grown up so much, and so much faster than it went with Gabbie. I love the sweet nature you have. The hugs, and cuddles and concern for everyone around you. You are so intuitive about how people are feeling. That will serve you well as you grow up. We love you. Enjoy the dirt!

just one extra letter

There is a church on Glenstone with one of those "clever" signs out front. It reads, "Don't be discouraged. Moses was once in a basket case." Just that one extra word, the letter a, takes this saying from just being eye rollingly annoying to making no sense.

Nice.

summertime

It is summer now. Last year, I had several things to do right when school ended. I also had a long trip that happened unexpectedly.

This summer is feeling more "blank canvas-y" than last. Davy's birthday is next week. I will go home and see my family at some point, and go to Bella Vista to see Bryan.

Other than that, the summer seems wide open.

Truth be told...I don't really like that feeling as much as I used to.

sticky thinking

Today, standing in our classroom after school, I realized something. I live a very sticky life.

At that moment in time, my hands were sticky from holding the hand of a truly darling child who had been eating an apple. My pants leg was sticky from another student's juice spill. The crowning touch was the sticky goo in my hair, contributed by a child who hugged my head with pudding on her hand as I tied her shoe.

It was a very sticky day. On any given day, at some point, it is guaranteed that my hands will get sticky with one thing or another. (Only on a lucky day will only my hands be sticky. On a normal day...anything goes.)

I'm very lucky to live this sticky life. You see, the stickiest things in life are frequently also the sweetest. Toffee, caramel, jam... All sticky. My students...sticky, but sweet, for the most part.

I'm happy to have sticky hands, and pants, and even hair. For this stickiness is a sign of some seriously sweet blessings in my life.

It's summer as of 1:30 tomorrow. We all need the break. I'll be happy to have it, I know. But I will miss my sticky life in our classroom.

I will worry. Do they have enough to eat? Are they getting enough attention? Do the summer school teachers understand the words they use that mean something else? Is their home stable? Is their electricity on? Will they move over the summer without me knowing where, or saying good bye? Are they lonely?

I will pray. For protection. For stability. For someone to care. For provision. For retention of skills. For another chance to hold their sticky hands.

Day in and day out, these are my blessings. My sticky, sweet, ornery, stubborn blessings. I am used to being there for them. Letting go for the summer is very hard on my heart. Summer has its own blessings, its own share of sticky, but just as my students need the routines of our classroom, I know my life needs it, too. My heart is held tightly by all that sticky.

happy week!

This upcoming week, I have deemed "Happy Week" in my room. I told all my kids that it is the last three days of school (with 2 hour early release on wednesday!) and that we ARE going to all be happy, get along, stay out of time out, have fun and be friends. That this is the last time we get to see each other for 2 and a half months and since some of them are changing schools, we may not see each other for a long time (truthfully ever in some cases, but that may be too difficult for them to hear). So we want to leave with happy memories in our hearts.

Lets see if they go for it.

4-6-9-13??

My first year at my current school, I started with 4 students...yes, I quickly escalated to 6 and ended the year with 8...but originally, I got to settle in with 4. That was nice.

This year, I started with 6 (it was supposed to be 8, but two moved before school started). I am ending with 8 again.

Next year, I am projected to start with 9.

So, it was plus 2 for the second year, plus 3 for the third...if this pattern continues, will I start with 13 next year??

(See, i can do math when I need to!)

thinking

In lieu of blogging, I've been thinking. There has been a lot to think about in the past month of blog silence. I can't even explain all I've been thinking about, nor would I if I could.

Some things aren't for the internet. They are for my thoughts alone, or prayers to God, or quiet conversations with those who know me best and love me anyway. They aren't meant for 2 sentence comments. They are meant for emotional response.

Some things hurt to much to be put where they can be used as ammunition.

Some things mean to much, are too precious, are too special, to be shared with the world at large.

Some things are too shameful to want read by people who won't understand...or to be heard by anyone at all, sometimes.

Some things are too judgmental to feel fair...they are safer inside.

Some things can't be expressed in words...they are too abstract or complex for the keyboard to handle.

These things I've been thinking take too much time. That's why I've been absent. But I'll be back. With thoughts that can be blogged, expressed, shared and commented upon.

How 'bout some more randomosity?

Yes, I am still trying to get "randomosity" into the dictionary, thanks for asking!
______________________________________________
My new niece is here, Amelia Rae. 7 and a half pounds, and perfect. Healthy and everyone who has seen her says she is very cute. I can't wait to go home and see her. We had a bit of a scare with Jess, my brother's fiance, though. After the baby was born they could not get her to stop bleeding and had to do emergency surgery. They were afraid they would lose her. They managed to save her, but she cannot have any more kids...which is hard to take at 19 years old. We are all glad she's doing much better.
______________________________________________
My new favorite website is CakeWrecks.com. Laughs for hours, I promise. Try it.
______________________________________________
I made a pledge this month (well, not at the beginning of the month, but I made the pledge for one month)...for Earth Day. I did not do this because I love Earth Day, I am kind of indifferent to it. I did it because it was a suggestion for a writing prompt that my class was doing.

I pledged to give up disposable plastic water bottles (Pure Life, how I miss you...). For anyone who knows me, this is major. I drink a lot of water...and I like it cold. So tap water has always been difficult, since its not cold. I have tried keeping a pitcher in the fridge, but its hard to remember to keep it filled, plus its not portable. But, I have always felt a little guilty about the billions of pounds of plastic water bottles in landfills and floating in the ocean. So, I made it my pledge.

Now, I have bought many reusable water bottles...I've never liked them. There are many reasons why, depending on the bottle. I dislike stainless steel bottles because they tinge the water with a metallic taste, and feel horrible against my teeth. I dislike bottles with lids you have to screw off to drink from, the wide mouth usually results in spills and they are hard to drink out of when driving. I dislike pop up spouts because I tend to chew on them and ruin the bottle. I dislike loop top bottles because they are hard to manuever. I dislike bottlew with the flexi-straw that you can cover up and then expose, because if they are removable you lose them and if they aren't I think you can't really clean them. I hate bottles with rubber rings in the lids that fall out all the time, eventually getting lost and then the bottle leaks from under the lid rim onto your shirt.

This dislike of reusable bottles adds to the problem of not buying water.

However, for Donald's birthday, one of the things I got him was this new water bottle from WalMart's Earth Day line.

I got it for him in blue, not green (it also comes in clear). Occasionally, I drink out of it. I found that I really, really like it!

It's the perfect water bottle. I'm in love with it. I bought myself and my para each one, also. (I got blue but with a light blue top to distinguish it from Donald's bright blue top. Deloris's is clear with a bright blue top.) I liked it enough I went back and got 2 more (another blue with light blue lid and a clear with bright blue lid.) This is to meet my need for cold water. I can fill them at night, put them in the fridge and then take them to school and put them in the fridge there and have cold water all day. With only one, I ran out of cold water at 11 am and had to fill it with not cold water, chill it, then drink it. Pain in the butt. Also, I have a feeling that since these were "Earth Day" bottles that they are in limited quantity and I would hate to buy only one, lose it/forget it/break it and never be able to get another.

Here's my case for it being the perfect water bottle (which Deloris feels that it is too. She keeps saying, "I love my water bottle Thanks so much."):
It holds 32 oz, which is a good amount for taking with me somewhere, meaning I don't run out 15 minutes into drinking it, but its not like carrying around a pitcher. It's hard plastic, not the softer, bendier kind that absorbs smells. It has a rubber ring that cannot be removed, so it will never be lost. It has a curved middle, making holding it easier. It has a loop on the top (hard plastic, not flimsy like the loop top bottles, and its not holding the lid on, its part of the lid), which I have found makes it easy to carry with one finger when my hands are full. It comes in blue (yes, to me, this really really matters). But I think what makes it perfect for me is the straw/spout hybrid. There is a straw inside, not flexible but rigid, that is removable and a hard plastic spout on top you drink from. It lets you drink like a straw, rather than tipping the bottle, so no drips and spills, but it gets rid of all the issues I have had with straw bottles.

So, my pledge is very do-able now, because I have the perfect bottles.
(My only complaint is that they say "reduce reuse recycle" on them for earth day, but luckily its not written on, its part of the plastic, so its the same color and blends in well.)

So, if you are needing a water bottle, and have never found just the right one, this is my recommendation to you- GET ONE OF THESE! (If you hate it, you can always rehome it with me...) The walmart on independence is out of them, but the one on sunshine had a lot of them.
______________________________________________
Donald turned 30 last week, I did not blog about it because he did not want to be reminded of it.
_______________________________________________
Donald started a new job last Monday, he has really enjoyed it and been very happy, which is a HUGE blessing. Also, it has given me a new enjoyable hobby...matching ties to dress shirts. I found that I really like to do this. It makes me happy inside. I like to hold 50 ties up to a shirt, weed out the noncontenders and then deciding on the best one. Yes, I am strange....but you knew that already.
_______________________________________________
Less than 30 school days left. WOOHOO!

how many moods

Last night Donald asked if I was mad. I said no.

He asked if I was sad. I said no.

He asked if I was one of the 50 moods women have that men call mad or sad.

I laughed. A lot.

He explained that there are three moods. Happy, mad and sad. Everything else was made up by women.

So, how many moods do you think there are?

the state of life

The other night, Joel summed up (unintentionally) how I have been feeling about a lot of things in life. Here's how the conversation went:

He looked at our movie/video game shelves and said, "You should sort those and then alphabetize them so you could find them easier." (Now, I know a lot of people do this...but ask anyone who knows me and Donald well if they would consider the two of us the type to do it and the laughter would carry to the moon.)

I replied, "Go for it." He looked at me puzzled and I said, "I will probably never sort them and get them in ABC order. As close as I get it making sure all the Gilmore Girls seasons are on one shelf. But I would never stop anyone who WANTED to organize them from doing it."

He happily pulled all the cases from the shelf and began to sort them into piles of XBOX, Wii, PS2, and DVD. (Funny side note, the 3 VHS tapes are still on the floor. He could not figure out where to sort them to.) Each pile was then sorted into 2 piles (first half and second half of alphabet). Box sets were put together, and then the sorted and alphabetized groups of cases were shelved.

As he finished, I said (jokingly...but certainly would not have stopped him if he'd gone for it), "You can do the bookcase next, if you want."

He looked at the bookcase for a few seconds and then said, "I like to organize things...but I dislike things that cannot be straightened out...that's why I dislike that bookshelf." (Needless to say, he left without straightening out the bookcase.)

I laughed a lot at that statement of Joel disliking my bookcase...but it has become clear to me that it is a great way to express how I feel about some things.

I can't fix them, I can't straighten them out...and I dislike that.

I am not going to express the thing making me feel this way the most, not here on the internet, anyway. If you know me and I trust you, I would tell you if you asked...but I would be afraid of the repercussions of putting it here.

The other things are family illnesses, personal disappointment in myself and a general bitterness that I still struggle against with this stupid infertility.

I want a life more easily sorted, alphabetized and straightened.

prayers

Papa starts radiation next monday, he will have to go 5 days a week for at least 18 treatments. He is not going to do chemo unless the radiation fails.

My stepmom could also use prayer. She has so many ailments it is hard to list them here, but the biggest one is that her intestines are dying. They have removed so many parts that they said they can't do anything else, and that there will be no more surgeries because her insides are just scar tissue (apparently scar tissue inside is a sticky goo, not the type of scar tissue on the outside of the body, which I did not know). She is in a lot of pain, has not been able to eat solid food for about a year and yes, it will probably eventually kill her. Its really hard for her and my dad to live that way.

He has a way with words...

God does not speak in literal words to me often. Sometimes I really wish He would. But He mainly nudges my heart and spirit and seems to gently guide me. But, when He does speak in words, He certainly knows how to get my attention!

Yesterday, I was asked/invited to do a service ministry that evening. I got the invite via text and thought, "ugh...it's raining and cold and supposed to snow later and I have work to do for school. I don't really feel like it." I read the text to Donald and he said he was not super excited to go, either. I picked up my phone to text back that we couldn't go. (Couldn't is a stretch here, as we COULD...but did not want to. I was justifing "couldn't" by saying I HAD to do school stuff, even knowing that I could do it today instead.) Just as I unlocked the phone to type, God spoke. Clearly, concisely and in words.

He said, "Jonah did not WANT to go to Ninevah, either."

This got my attention. I told Donald I was going to go anyway. He said he'd come, too.

Now, I know that statement could have many meanings (sadness, threatening, instructing, etc.), but I did not stop and ask for interpretation. I just figured if it was serve or be swallowed by a whale and THEN serve (because Jonah did not get out of doing what he was asked, he just was delayed by disobedience and a whale)...then I'm gonna go with serve.

Plus...I've been asking God for a lot lately (patience, job for Donald, healing for Papa), so it would seem that to ask and never give is certainly wrong.

There are a lot of reasons I should have said yes without God having to tell me to (for starters, because it was the right thing to do). I did not. That makes me disappointed in myself. I wish I had wholeheartedly said yes right away without the prompt. (Although the rare occasion of hearing God's voice is nice.) I am glad I went and I really hope that next time, I won't have to hear Him tell me to.

I am also glad I went, because it saved God the trouble of getting a whale into a landlocked state and in position to swallow me.

Papa update again

Papa's face swelled up last Tuesday. He went to the doctor and the doctor pulled out fluid with a needle. He said it was either infection at the operation site or the lymphoma was back.

Today (Thursday), the doctor told him it is the lymphoma. It is back much sooner than anyone ever thought it would be. Only a couple weeks after the all clear, remission declaration.

He has to go back this week and get some immune system tests run and then start radiation.

Pray for Papa again. He cleared the lymphoma once, I have faith he can do it again!

Dreaming

Why does dreaming come in spurts? I won't dream for months, then suddenly, 15 dreams a night for a week. How does that work?

Also, when you do dream, why do you wake up feeling completely exhausted? Is you body actually awake and performing these dreams in an alternate world?

Why are my dreams either insane or mundane, but no in between?

Why have I never, ever had the most common dreams of flying and falling?

true fit

Warning: this post is really long and a bit rambly. If it is not of interest to you, you don't have to read it. It was more of a way for me to analyze my feelings than anything else.

Talking on the phone with Hillery this week was enlightening. And the more I ponder the conversation, the more it feels true and right.

It started with me mentioning something about school next year (can't really remember what it was, but something), and her asking if that meant I planned to stay at this school next year. (History:I stayed in my first school district 2 years, my second district 2 years and have almost finished my second year at this one.) I said yes, and that I really needed to because I was afraid if I left another district after 2 years, people would stop hiring me, for fear of my 2 year attention span.

Now, for the record, I did not dislike either of my previous jobs.

I loved the Co-op with everything in me. I loved what it stood for, I loved my boss, I loved my kids (even the hard ones). I loved the atmosphere. I enjoyed that it was all special ed. Usually, there are only a few sped teachers in one location, and we feel a bit isolated. At the co-op, we were a family, we had a common goal of helping these special kids.

I only left because I wanted a baby. And, despite loving my job, I wanted that baby more than any job on the planet. I also knew I could not safely do my job pregnant. Too many restraints, too many violent kids, too much stress. I would put my baby's safety before the job, and the students would suffer. That was not fair. I would become a liability and I could not let that happen.

I also had a eye-opening conversation with my boss, who said she could never have had kids and done this job, because when she goes home she has nothing left to give a baby. She was right. And I knew it. Had I known then that I could not have a baby, I would not have left. I was a little burnt out on getting beaten up, but I would have known the summer would give me time to rev back up and I would have been ready to get back into my job.

I would have stayed...but after my boss left the co-op a year later (due to a lot of garbage that still upsets me) I was glad I had left. I just couldn't see the place without her at the helm. She was the heart and soul of the place. And after the co-op closed forever last spring, I am even more thankful that I left. It breaks my heart to know it is not there serving kids. It was a great place and kids got helped in a way that cross-cat classes cannot offer. Had I been working there when it closed, it would have been even harder.

At my second school, the job was less stressful kid-wise, and more stressful paper-wise. But I really enjoyed my kids there. They were sweet, and seemed more...wholesome..than "city" kids. (This was an extremely rural Mayberry-esque setting.) I formed really good relationships with co-workers and enjoyed "running the show" of the sped dept. It felt good to know that I really did know my stuff. I worked hard, but it made me feel competent and professional. I learned a lot as a quasi-administrator. It was valuable experience that I would not trade for anything. (Plus school paid trips to Tan-tar-a are pretty nice!)

I had no intentions of leaving there when I did. I liked it, I was happy, it was working for me. I wasn't looking at job postings or putting out resumes. I signed a contract to return, knowing I had until June 1st to change my mind, but not thinking that was even in the realm of possibility. Then Hanna told me the job I had always wanted, but it had never been open since I had been certified, had just opened up.

I thought hard and finally decided I had to go for it, or I'd always wonder what could have been. So I put in my resume and application. I told my boss at that job that I did not intend to look for a job, this just happened to be my dream job and had just opened up. I also told her I was not going to take just any job and leave, because I only wanted to leave if just the right thing came along. She understood and wrote me a nice reference.

I did the interview with the central office, and my time as a sped coordinator served me well, I was able to answer all the process/legal questions without hesitation. I later found out my interviewer had been replaced at his former job by my co-op boss and that he had told her my interview was "flawless." That was really nice to hear.

I got the interview at my "dream job," plus 3 others. One for the same "dream job" but at a different location. (The dream job was an autism classroom, for those who don't know. Autism was always my main interest in disability, due to Danny, Lindsey and later, Zach. It still fascinates me like nothing else.) One interview was middle school cross-cat...which I knew before I went that I did not want to do, but my co-op boss advised me to do the interview anyway. She said it was good practice at interview skills (it was the first of the 4 on the schedule), and showed the district that I was not going to turn my nose up at every job other than the autism position. It showed an open mind and kept doors open.

The cross-cat interview apparently went well...they offered me the job. I turned it down, I told them I had two interviews for a position I wanted more and was hoping to get on at one of those 2 schools.

The next interview was for the autism job at the school I had always wanted to work in. I had interned there and fallen in love with the school. I prayed hard...I really wanted them to offer me the job. In the interview they asked if I had anymore interviews set up, and I said I had already had one and had two more scheduled. They asked what would be my first choice. I told them it was there. That I had wanted to work there, in that class, for 6 years. The principal called me the next day and was very gentle in letting me know that I was not getting the job. She told me she knew how badly I wanted it, and they liked me, but they went with the candidate with a master's degree almost completed in Autism. She said she usually sent a letter letting applicants know if they did not get the job, but that she knew I had another interview that day and wanted me to have the information so I did not wait on their response to answer any other offers. This was very kind of her, but my heart was a bit broken at that time.

Still, I went to the third interview, for another autism class, and decided to give it my all. It was still the job I wanted, even if it was not in the location I desired. I thought, "All things are for a reason. That must not have been the place for me, no matter how much I wanted it to be. Maybe this is where I need to be." My Gramma called me on the way to the interview and prayed for me. That gave me a lot of peace. You see, when my Gramma prays, things happen! But, I only considered the possibility of getting the job as the answer to the prayer. I did not look at the alternative. This was my last chance (for the year) to have a crack at the autism job.

I didn't get it. They went with a lady who had been a para in the autism room while going back to school to get her degree. She knew the staff, the kids, the class. She had the edge. For them, she fit.

I felt a bit let down, but I was ok with it, because i still had my job. And there was nothing wrong with it, I liked it, it was a good job. So I would stay put and maybe get a crack at the autism job another year. Sure, I had one more interview to go, but it was not the job I wanted and I figured I would do the interview but either not get the job or not accept the offer.

I arrived at the interview. It did not start well. (First I was lost on the way and had to have Hanna google the directions to the school.) Then, I sat outside the office for an hour after my interview was to start. I waited and waited, finally the principal came out, looked confused and said "Can I help you?" I said I was there for the 4:30 interview. She asked my name and then said, "Oh, you don't have an interview. You never called me back." I did not want to be rude or disrespectful, but I also wanted to clear the record. "Yes, I did," I said, "You asked me to come in on Tuesday, but I said I had a funeral and we decided on Wednesday." As soon as I said funeral, her face changed. "OOOHHHH. Yes. I forgot. I'm sorry!" She apologized. She asked the interview team if they would be willing to stay a little later and give me the interview, since I had waited so long.

I did the interview...I answered the questions, some I nailed, some the principal questioned. But the whole time, I sat and thought, "This fits." I did not know what the job would look like, really. I had no experience with running a functional life skills classroom. But as I sat with these people and talked about this job, it felt so right. It fit.

I was shocked. I had expected to walk out and go back to my job and be fine with it. But as I walked to my car, I thought, "This feels comfortable. I can do this." Still, I wanted to think and pray and talk it over and make pro/con lists before deciding. It wasn't what I planned on doing and it wasn't my dream job, even if some of the students in the class may have autism, there was more to this than just that.

The principal had told me I was the 3rd interview for the job, and she wanted to do at least 2 more, but would let me know in the next 5 days. She called the next day and offered me the job. I was surprised and asked about the other interviews. She said she usually does at least 5, but they talked after I left and decided they did not need to, that "we just all thought you fit."

That confirmed what I was feeling, and I accepted the job. I was nervous, because I did not know what it would be like, but I knew it would be ok. It felt right. It would be new, challenging and good.

I'm almost 2 full years in. It still feels right. It still fits. I never expected to end up doing this type of program, but I love it. I think the things we get to do with the students are amazing. I am thrilled to be back in self-contained sped., which I've always liked more than resource sped. I like having my own kids, in a smaller group, rather than 20-30 kids I see randomly throughout the day. I like cooking and community outings. I love having a para again (adult ocnversation/support throughout the day is priceless!)

I am genuinely happy in this position. I could easily see myself doing it for many more years. I'm not "looking for the next step." This is where I am supposed to be, I just didn't know it.

(Also, with as high as gas prices got in the last 2 years, I could never have afforded driving 89 miles round trip to work anymore.)

Papa update

All bone marrow tests, blood tests and body scans show that Papa is cancer free! He did not have to do chemo or radiation! We know this is God, we know it was a healing, because the way the tumor wrapped around his facial nerves, they could not cut it all out for fear of paralyzing the right side of his face. But whatever the doctor could not get out is gone now.

He has to go back every three months for a year, just to recheck that he is cancer free. After that, just his regular once a year work up.

Prayers work. God is able.

an admission

In high school, "Hootie and the Blowfish" was big. Everyone loved them. They got played at all the dances.

I hated them. I did not enjoy their sound, they had nothing that I found appealing.

So, when news broke a while back about Hootie's lead singer, Darius Rucker, going country for a solo album, I was skeptical. I did not like this guy when his band was big in the 90's, surely now he just a washed up 40-something ex pop star trying for a comeback however he can, right?

When his first single broke, I liked it. I liked it the first time I heard it, even knowing it was his. On subsequent hearings, it grew on me. I liked it more and more. I kept thinking, wow, this is really the guy from Hootie?

His next single broke. I loved it.

I've now heard his whole album. I like or love over 3/4 of the songs. The other 1/4 are listenable. I don't hate any of them, but they serve the usual filler purpose. They won't be singles, or get radio play, but if you buy the whole album, you won't feel compelled to skip them, either.

My admission...I, the Hootie hater, the skeptic...have fallen in love with Darius Rucker as a country artist.

a rant

I am tired of people who tell me they have no money for their kids, yet you can tell from the smell of them, and their child/child's belongings, that they obviously smoke a lot.

I get that nicotine is an addiction, please do not say that to me in the comments. Most of my family has dealt with addiction to either nicotine, alcohol and/or illegal substances.

However, addictions can be broken.

If you have to choose between a freaking pack of smokes each day and dinner for your kid, I am sorry, but if your child eating is not the priority here then you are a lousy human being.

And you can say that the cost of cigarettes does not equal the cost of food, so giving it up would not help feed the family. Lie. Cigarettes are a few dollars a pack. With three bucks, you can buy an entire loaf of bread, pack of cheese and some butter. Grilled cheese for all! You can buy noodles and sauce. Yay spaghetti! You can buy a box of macaroni and cheese and some tuna to throw in for protein. Not my tast, but most kids love it. You can buy eggs and a box of add water only pancake mix. Breakfast for dinner, love it!

Buying cigarettes to feed your addiction while your kids sit hungry is selfish. It's cruel. It's abusive.

Period.

randomosity

Yeah, maybe randomosity is not a real word, but if I use it often enough, Webster's will think it is. (Examples: jiggy, bootylicious, and blog.)

Nothing really important to blog, just float around my head thoughts trying to escape, so I'll put them here.
___________________________________________________________________
There is a song on the radio right now, I dislike it, so naturally it gets lodged in my brain and replays the same two lines for days on end. Even if I only hear the first word before I change the station, the middle lines of the chorus stick like glue. That's irritating!!
___________________________________________________________________
There was a child in front of me at WalMart today in the check out line. I really wanted to have a long talk with, and/or smack her parents. She took some gum off the shelf without asking and placed it with the groceries. Her mom asked her to put it back. The child (around the age of 10), looked straight at her mother and said, "Oh, I see. Dad is already mean to me so now you are going to be mean, too." (Dad was also standing right there.) Mom (committing the crime of engaging pouty, sulky whining) replies "Dad was not mean to you. That Hannah Montana guitar is too much money for us." Child argues "Well, gum is not expensive, so I am getting it." Mom replies, "You did not behave in the store, so you do not get a treat." (Which is a good rule, but only if enforced.) Child whines, "Dad, mom is being mean again! I just want gum. And a soda. Those aren't expensive. Okay, Dad? I am getting gum and a soda." Child walks to cooler and gets out a soda. Mom rolls her eyes and says "Fine, just get something for your brother, too, so I don't have to hear him whine." (Brother was not present.) Girl grabs a snicker bar, then puts it back and gets a "trial size" snack and says, "He's mean to me all the time, I don't like him. He only deserves the smallest thing." Mom says "Fine. I didn't like my brothers at your age either. As long as he gets something." (Dad remains silent for all of this.)

ARGH. Why? Why aren't parents acting like parents anymore?????
____________________________________________________________________

I would blog about how I truly feel about the current weather, but if I did, it would snow tomorrow. So I am just going to say the weather's been "alright."
___________________________________________________________________

I want to learn to make Korean Bulgogi. I love that stuff. It shouldn't be too hard.
___________________________________________________________________

We have three months left of school. Three months does not seem short, but it is fewer than 65 school days. Crazy. It's winding down already.
___________________________________________________________________
I am finally feeling better after being sick for almost the entirety of Febuary. Antibiotics are truly a miracle.
___________________________________________________________________
I've decided I have no problems with bribery, so long as it saves my sanity.
___________________________________________________________________
I want to move somewhere with superb mass transit, or an all inclusive village where everything is in walking distance. Cars are too expensive. What with gas and upkeep, its just too much. (We had to put $475 into our car Friday. New front and rear brakes, front rotors, alignment and oil change.)
__________________________________________________________________
Guinea pigs hate to have their nails trimmed.
__________________________________________________________________
I want to be a Fraggle. Think about it, a 30 minute work week? Count me in!
__________________________________________________________________
So, I think that's it for now.