Please, hold the applause. . .

My husband and I both teach in public schools. We are "merely" teachers. . .no administrative dreams either. This is not a high-paying profession. It will be especially LOW paying next school year when we BOTH miss an entire month's salary due the state legislature's decision to not begin school until after Labor Day. I digress.

Even though I knew we would never be rollin' in the dough. . .I always knew I wanted to stay home with my kids--atleast as long as I could. That turned out to be five years. Two with Victoria. One year back while pregnant with Thad. Three more years after Thad was born.

Our wonderful plans and sacrifice did not, however, stop things like root canals, flat tires, broken air conditioners, lots and lots of strep, diapers, formula, transmissions, etc. So basically life. . .

This came to the tune of several thousand dollars. . .like 5 figures. . .like a very, very, *VERY* nice car or several trips to Disney World. Luckily we don't care about nice cars or Disney World either (well--maybe Disney World a little bit, and I hear from Joshilyn Jackson that they have the world's cleanest bathrooms.) It was more than worth the price tag to get those 5 years.

But I can now proudly announce, that in only15 months we have obliterated all 5 figures. We, tonight, paid off the very last amounts of credit card debt. Gone. Poof. Vanished. Done. At midnight, the bank will wire our last payments and we are free and clear. . .

. . .to now put all of that money in 403B retirement accounts and 529 education plans and that lovely house I told you about.

But before all of that, I am going to get a coke. At 9:58 p.m. A real Coke. Not a diet Coke (which I dearly love), but a real, live, sugar filled, caffeine drenched Coke.

I'm livin' la vida loco, y'all. . .and I'm doin' it debt free.

The Gauntlet, down it has been thrown . . .

My ponderings from last night have elicited a request from Denise of West Texas. . .I was askin' about Blogger and commented on what I'd heard regarding WordPress. . .and Stephanie (who uses WordPress, and very beautifully I might add) said the following. . .

Wordpress is easy, and you can import all your blogger posts so it's like you were always with wordpress. Plus, with wordpress you can see stats, and blogger doesn't (unless you add your own code) :)

So, Stephanie or any other WordPress/TypePad/Beta Blogger users. . .fell free to weigh in and answer Denise's questions. I already know that Mouse CAN-NOT-STAND Beta Blogger. . .read it on her blog. . .

Denise says. . .Alright, I want a discussion. What are stats? Is that like my site Meter stats? What's Beta Blogger? Have we all switched? Will it stop me from having to put in my name and password EVERY TIME? Girls, I'm old and lost in the computer world...
6:11 PM

By the way. . .

What is the deal with Blogger REALLY PUSHING the new "Beta Blogger?" I couldn't get to the dashboard today until I had first clicked "No--I really am not interested in Beta Blogger."

I hear wonderful things about Wordpress, but it took me so long to learn Blogger, I'm not interested in packing up and moving until this summer

Just in case

. . .you, like Stephanie, are in need of a little snow, head on over to

http://www.popularfront.com/snowdays/ . The page will load, then click on "make your own snowflake." Use your mouse to make "cuts." You will be able to see what your snowflake looks like over to the left.

I swanee--it's incredibly addictive. My friend sent this to me a couple of years ago. Thought you might like it. I haven't done any in over a year, but if you'd like to see my creations for today, click on "search for a snowflake" or something like that in the lower left corner, type in Roxanne, Texas, and 11/27/06. You should then have 6 snowflakes for your viewing enjoyment. It's pretty. It's fun. And it's better for you than eating chips.

On a similar note--the forecast for today was no rain, high of 78. It didn't get above 65 and has been raining since 9:00 this morning. If it were as cold here as it is in Steph's neck of the woods, we would most DEFINITELY be getting some of the white stuff.

Time to go and be responsible.

Etc.

Tonight's walk. . .17 minutes, 25 seconds at a slow pace so as to escape the calf blow torch effect.

Things spotted on said walk. . .a lovely hot pink hibiscus in full bloom next to 5 different pink rose bushes. . .from light pink all the way to vivid fuschia, a small grouping of half eaten fried chicken wings on the sidewalk, lots of people hanging Christmas lights, no horrifically large birds with intestinal issues.

I have been trying to reclaim the house one bit at a time. It's still not so hot, but the kitchen can be navigated and the children's floors are clear.

Victoria got a phone call from her friend Abby today. She and Abby became friends in kindergarten, and though they don't go to the same school, they still love to get together and play. For some reason these girlies just click. So this afternoon Victoria made a surprise for Abby--a note written in cursive. I saw it tonight when I was putting clothes away. . .I thought it very wise for an 8 year old. . .her punctuation and spelling are intact.

"Abby,

Me and you, together are like one big team. Together we can do things we cannot do aloune."

So to all of you friends that read this. . .the ones I've met and the ones I've not. . .and especially certain ones of you--you know who you are--we are like one big team. . .together we can do things we cannot do alone. :)

And even more. . .

"Thad, where are your pants?"

"In duh bafwoom"

"Why, boy?"

"Momma, sometimes kids just like to flow with nature. . ."

(Much to her Daddy's chagrine.)

A discussion about colors

Victoria wanted to use the easle today (from Santa two Christmases ago. . .and Santa got it for $19.99 at IKEA). The following is what takes place in our house, car, tub, upstairs, back yard, couch, etc. on a daily basis. . .little machine gun bursts of dendrytes and conversation. . .Thad and I joined in at intervals.

"Mommy, I just found out what makes that ugly green color!!! Green and orange."

"I think it's moss green."

"Yeah, that gwoss gween is called camofwauge gween. . .actuawy it's not gwoss owuh ugwy. . .it's just camofwauge."

Wow Mommy! I made another type of green--another ugly green--it's orange and purple! It's a little darker.

"Yes, that's forrest green."

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, dat's a nice name. . .you haven't mixed puple and gween."

"Well, Thad, I've mixed all of the primary colors and I'm just playing with the secondary ones."

"Oh, I made a color that is unknown. I mixed purple and orange and got a very, very, very dark maroon. Daddy would like it. It's Arnold's color. (Tony's school is Arnold--the colors are maroon and gold.) Oh. . .Anthony. . .Arnold . . .Anthony. . .Arnold. . .that's good. I'm gonna need to get a piece of paper. I need to do some graphics. Yes, I need to do some graphics even though I don't know what 'graphics' is." (I think she meant graph.)

Later. . .chalk squeaking on the black board side. . .

"Thad, that's very good. I can see your process."

"What's pwocess?"

"That means your work."

From what I can tell, Victoria is drawing the seven continents and Thad is coloring them in with chalk. She is explaining to Thad that North America is, indeed, connected to South America.

An explosion of artistic learning in my little kitchen. There is silence now--they need to let the dendrytes connect.

And so it goes. . .

The week has gone quickly. . .and we've enjoyed it. We have watched "A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving" at least 5 times, and eaten our weight in turkey and pumpkin crunch--played board games at Nana and Papaw's house, played Turkey Ball (my husband and his high school friends began having a Turkey Bowl and Donut Scarf 21 years ago when they were about 17--the tradition continues, though now it's the offspring who are playing--the founders prefer to coach), had a cold that I could actually nurse without missing school, sort of reclaimed my kitchen and laundry area, talked to my mother on the phone about 6 times. A busy and enjoyable week for sure.

Darkness is falling outside--the kids and Tony are in the back yard--he is mending crab nets so when he tries to catch some tomorrow they don't escape. Victoria is raking leaves into a pile while wearing her candy cane pajamas. Thad is sitting in the grass playing with a Chinese Yo-Yo--the paper ones that snap back--now he's just beating it on the ground and waving it to and fro--possibly imagining his own Nascar race. . .time to fix dinner--hug children--take care of the husband.

Hope you had a good week too.

Don'tcha just love it when. . .

. . .you are supposed to make 3 pies, but when you go to bake them you remember that you only have 1 (one) pie plate?

And all this after I SWORE I would not go ANYWHERE today. . .

Even more of the same

4:25 p.m. House an indescribably mess. . .pies needing to bake-2. . .other desserts I WANT to make--1. . .gallons of tea to brew--4. Tony is splitting wood in the back yard with the kids runnig around him in circles. . .I keep picking up bits and pieces of junk at random intervals. I've not made such headway yet that I can tell it. You know how when your house is REALLY messy. . .and you clean it up. . .then you leave the room and come back later and are surprised that it is so straight? Yeah--that hasn't happened yet.

I do not want tomorrow to be Thanksgiving. Not that I don't want to give thanks/be thankful/spend ALL DAY WITH MY IN-LAWS. . .but that means it's Thursday, and as everyone knows, Thursday runs seamlessly into Friday which means the weekend will be here before I know it which leads us to another Sunday night (which I do not like).

I'm supposin' it would help if I stopped blogging every three or four hours. Yes? No? Yes.

Hmmmmm.

Just So Stephanie has PUH-LENTY to read when she gets home

Seeing as how I am home (sort of) all week and how I can blog every single second of my day if I so choose. I have chosen. Stephanie is visiting the in-laws and has requested (tongue in cheek) that I not write so much. . .but I cannot help myself. It's just so fun to sit down and fire off a message full of nothing in particular. . .addictive. . .like the gingersnaps from World Market.

So, the latest installment before I go and eat lunch (BooMama's Southern Living Recipe for Red Beans and Rice that Tony made yesterday while I was power shopping and which I hope I can actually TASTE), here is the weather in Houston. Sarah called me on the carpet. . .


Sarah wrote to me TODAY. . .in my ILLNESS. . .

Okay, just to give you grief -- you told Stephanie it was supposed to be cold this week? I'm most curious, because we're supposed to be close to 80* on Thanksgiving day, with temperatures all week not much cooler than that. So I check Houston's forecast, wondering what northern blast of arctic air will cool it off so w/o getting to Abilene. Your forecast is the same -- highs close to 80 and lows close to 50? That's cold? You really have to move north!

:-)Sarah

So, I wrote back. . .

Well. . .the last time I watched the weather BEFORE I got sick. . .it was going to be in the low to mid 30's at night and in the mid to high 60's during the day. We had frost on our grass and our roof until 9:00 yesterday morning--which IS cold for here--but then last night, 'ole Neal Frank told us that the forecast of cold nights was changing and that it would not get any lower than the mid 40's overnight--and that we could expect upper 70's-80 today. I expect the peach trees that just lost their leaves to begin sprouting buds any second. They will do that all winter. We like to keep 'em guessin.' So we WERE looking forward to cooler weather--alas--Houston has proved again to be the fickle mistress we all know her to be--cold one second and hot the next.

:)Roxanne

And there you have it. . .hijinx for teachers on Thanksgiving break--a duel of words regarding unseasonably warm weather--and it's really not all that unseasonable for Texas seeing as how we've had snow on Christmas Eve and a high on 75 on Christmas day. . .

Thad is laying across me begging to play Hotwheels.com. . .he is lacing his leg through my lap while trying to climb between the computer key-board and me. . .AND he has yellow silly putty in his hand and a tank top on.

Check back later for mor scintilating insights into my day. . .

Exercise and Cold update

I am still sick. . .and it's moving into my chest. . .which it always does. . .ask Sarah.

I did not "go walking" today. . .rather I went:

to our financial advisor (he did NOT laugh at us--we are so happy)
to get the kid's from my in-laws
home to eat lunch
to World Market for really good ginger snaps for Christmas presents
to Pappasitos for a gift card
to Toys R Us for a game
to IKEA (imagine an echo here for the cavernous size)
home on I-10 in 4:35 traffice
to Family Dollar for a Transformer
to Pet Co for crickets and turtle food
to Target (lots of stuff)
to Walmart cause Target was woefully low on the deoderant we prefer (lots of stuff and food)
BACK to Target for the prescription I forgot
home to have a very late supper and drink some liquids

All of that took 7 hours. . .that's right. . .7 hours!!!!!! I left shortly before 2:00 and got back shortly after 9:00. I did it so I would not have to go ANYWHERE tomorrow or Thursday or Friday or Saturday. IKEA in and of itself was exercise enough--ask Stephanie--it's like Super WalMart on steroids with two floors and no aisles so you have to meander through the ENTIRE thing. And it is a wonderful place to shop, but oh. my. goodness. So, I am considering all of that back and forth and to and fro while pushing heavily laden shopping carts my exercise.

(past) Time for more Nyquil.

While I wait

While I wait for Tony to get on his pj's, I might as well tell you all that I have a cold. . .an annoying, nose running, sneezing loudly, raw-lipped cold. It wasn't so bad until this afternoon. . .'til I realized that my allergy tablet was not working so it must, indeed, be a cold. Good thing, 'cause if that was bird poo earlier, I certainly didn't smell it.

Of course, I barely tasted our mostly free dinner too. . .I got the gist but had to rely on Tony to tell me if it was truly as good and flavorful as I imagined. We stopped on the way home to get a jug of orange juice, some kleenex with lotion, and some Nyquil liquicaps. . .that's my remedy for any cold--actually it's oj, crackers, Nyquil/Dayquil, and chocolate icecream if you happen to have any or can talk someone into getting it for you.

We are going to watch a teeny bit of a movie, during which I will fall asleep, then wake up to haul my weary bones to bed. . .no kids in the house but a cold arrived in their stead. Bummer.

Update on the Exercise Program

So I go out for my first walk of the season tonight. . .I stretch. . .well. . .and I take off at a fairly slow pace for me--long strides--arms up and moving. Not even a good 5 minutes into it, my right outside calf muscle feels as though it has a blow torch with it's name on it--I slow down a little to see if that helps. It does. . .so I continue at my slower pace.

And then it starts burning again--really, really burning like "you need to stop now, now, now right this very second, NOW" burning. So I slow down even more and decide that I will a) go to the chiropractor tomorrow to get my hips straightened out--which is probably the cause of the blow torch feeling, b) stretch THREE TIMES A DAY until I've gotten back in the swing of things, and c) continue to walk at a slow pace to work out the burn before I get home.

I arrive at our neighborhood park. There is no sidewalk around the park, but I don't really want to walk across the street and I think that walking on the grass might be better at this juncture than walking on the concrete. The park is manicured--grass freshly cut--it is spongy, thick grass, and I have taken about four steps in it before I realize that the spongy is water, and just then my left foot lands in what can only be described as a very, very, very muddy with thick, slimy mud puddle. I guess a water main broke under there, because we haven't had rain in over a week. My shoe is covered with really, really, slimy dark mud. My other shoe is drenched with just icky water, and at this point I decide to throw in the towel. I mean, seriously. . .

So I get home and ring the doorbell. Tony answers the door and immediately looks at my mud-drenched shoe and says, "What is that? Bird poop?" I reply, "No, it's mud. Open the garage door." And in the time it took him to get to the garage and push the button, I had a moment for the following thought to dawn--breaking over me like a wave on the ocean. . .


EXACTLY WHAT SIZE BIRD WOULD IT HAVE TAKEN TO COMPLETELY COVER MY LEFT ATHLETIC SHOE IN POO?????

I'm not sure, but I AM sure that I don't care to get close enough to it to let it poop on me or my shoe--especially if my foot is actually IN my shoe.

My nod to A.A. Milne: In which I announce my intentions regarding holiday poundage

So, here's the deal. I could stand to lose some weight. . .in fact. . .my body demands it. Alas, this is not the time of year for that. I could REALLY decide that I WILL in fact lose weight despite that it's Thanksgiving week and I am in charge of mashed potatoes and I make REALLY good mashed potatoes.

My answer? Give up on actually LOSING weight until after Thanksgiving is over. . .and I do mean completely over. . .including left overs. That would be like Saturday this coming Saturday. THEN work on losing a couple of pounds before Christmas. My other goal is to not GAIN any more weight between now and Saturday. How, exactly, to I propose to do that?

Exercise, my friends, exercise. If I cannot make the weight magically disappear, I can atleast walk off the excess calories I take in each day. That there is my plan. . .a two mile minimum walk each and every day this week. . .and we have a weather forecast that is primed and ready for that.

Off I go. . .so I can go to Outback Steak House tonight--but Tony and I are splitting the entree. :)

Stay Home and Play Day

When Victoria was 4 she started going to pre-school. She only went two days each week, and even though she could NAME all the days of the week, she wasn't so good at identifying exactly which day it actually was. So we had other names: Churchday, Stayhomeandplayday, Gotoschoolday, Gymnasticsday, Gotoschoolday, Stayhomeandplayday.

Today is Stayhomeandplayday. . .sort of. We have to take the kids to Ed and Ruthann's tonight, because tomorrow is Gotothefinancialplannersohecanlaughatourfutureplansday. We also have a gift card to Outback Steak House from our friends for whom we babysat a couple of weeks ago. I think they felt badly that Thomas got sick, but since none of us got sick it was no big deal. Either way, Tony and I have a free dinner and an empty house this evening. . . but we've been doing some hit and miss cleaning today in and amongst times of total non-productivity which involved me being introduced to the wonders of YouTube. I had seen several little pieces on other's blogs from YouTube but didn't know they actually would have stuff I really like over there. Somehow I ran across this Ben Taylor video which led me to a Livingston and James Taylor video which led me to several James Taylor videos. I was in Taylor Boy heaven!!!!

I don't believe I've ever truly gone into detail about how much I really, really, really, really like James Taylor. I would go into detail as to WHY I like James Taylor so much. . .but I'd sound like one of those groupies who stands in line for hours to go to every single concert. . .and really I'm just groupie enough to have seen him only once in concert and to have worn out about three or four cassette tapes over the years. . .maybe five. . .until I got smart and bought some cd's. So when I heard his son was out and about, I was intrigued to hear how much he sounds like his dad. . .and then there is the little clip of James and Livingston (his brother) Taylor together and they TOTALLY sound alike--except that Livingston appears to be a lot goofy, and James has sort of an understated reservedness about him.

Anyway--if you can get past the flip/flop/henna tatoo, the long early 70's hair, and the deck shoes and late '80's striped shirt on Livingston, AND you enjoy an acoustic guitar in the hands of someone who knows what to do with one, then it will be worth your 15 minutes to listen to Ben, the brothers, and James alone. Who knew YouTube was for me?

I am off to clean up some more and make myself presentable for the masses.

Second installment of Nothing

Remember way back to 19late80-orearly90somethings? Remember the R.E.M. song "Shiny, Happy People?" It went something like, "Shiny, happy people having fun. . ." Well, there should be a new song for grocery stores around the holidays, "Hungry, Grumpy People" that goes "Hungry, grumpy people buying food." I'm not even kidding. A saw a man slam some diet Cokes down so hard I though they might explode. Really, really hard. He was not happy. . .and he didn't have much food. . .which may have been why he wasn't happy. But from his very loud diatribe directed at the store manager, it seemed as though he was particularly grumpy that someone in the express lane went back three different times to get things she forgot.

I'd have been a little miffed myself. . .

But. . .I had a roast and two happy kiddos waiting for me at home, so I just bought my goods and went on my merry way.

The roast is done. The cake is in the oven. Time to eat.

Just NO-thing

So there is NOTHING for me to blog--not one thing that is of interest, quirky, funny, thought-provoking--nothing. I, unlike Jerry Seinfeld, cannot do a blog about nothing. . .I could quote funny lines from Seinfeld, but you just really don't get those unless you saw them--which I did WAY back before I had kids. . .even though I didn't really like Seinfeld. I preferred Mad About You--which I found on some obscure half fuzzy channel on my t.v. this week--it was after they had the baby and Paul and Jamie were in counseling for some reason and he whacked the therapist in the nose with a golf club he insisted on carrying with him everywhere he went--funny stuff.

No. Right now all I have going on is a roast in the crock pot and a quick trip to Kroger to get some eggs so I can make a cake I don't need to eat. I don't plan on eating it alone--my family requested it. . .and it's a good one. So, in the vein of recipes I've been dotting on here lately, here's another. And I got the incredible cranberry orange cake recipe from my student and will share it later. The cake one I've got memorized.

(Out of habit, I don't normally say the first word in the title of the cake. . .one night I was spelling it for Tony, but I was tired and so it came out "D-A-arn." That's what we he and I call it. The kids don't call it anything--they are too busy eating it.)

Darn Good Chocolate Cake

1 box Duncan Hines chocolate fudge or devil's food cake mix
1 C. sour cream
1 regular package chocolate instant pudding
4 eggs
1/2 C. oil
1/2 C. water
1 1/2 C. mini semi-sweet chocolate chips

Mix everything together except the chocolate chips. It'll be thick. Stir in chocolate chips with a spoon. (It called for regular chips--but I find as thick as the batter is they still fall to the bottom). Grease and flour (or use cocoa powder rather than flour) a bundt pan. Pour in the batter and cook at 350 for about an hour. You can't really tell it's done by sticking a tooth pick in it--too much melty chocolate--so you will have to give it the pressure test. Serve hot with vanilla icecream and an EMT on standby. There is a really, really rich chocolate sauce you can put on the top. . .and Tony likes the cake "all the way"--but it's not for the faint of heart. I will post it in case you're feelin' lucky. . .or you could use it on something not so potent.

Martha's Chocolate Icing

1 C. sugar
5 tbsp butter
1/3 C. whole milk
1 C. chocolate chips (this time use regular ones. . .the mini ones don't melt well)

Put sugar, butter, and milk into a pan. Cook over high heat, stirring constantly 3-4 minutes until it comes to a boil. Continue to stir constantly and boil for 1 minute. Remove from heat, pour in chocolate chips, and stir until the chocolate is melted. It is VERY runny but hardens up as it cools--it will develop a "crust" in the pan while it cools--or you can drizzle it over something.

Really good.

Off to clog an artery. . .

You'd never know

that I was language arts department chair at my jr. high school and that I have been a teacher for 15 years. So I CHOSE to write an entire entry to tell you that my daughter was, indeed, CHOSEN as Good Citizen. . .and not CHOSE as Good Citizen as stated in the previous entry.

Just couldn't let it go with a simple correction.

It's still cold. And late. (My language arts/teacher/department chair experience is only offended by improper usage. . .but not by sentence fragments or excessive punctuation.)

What?

This morning Thad came downstairs wearing a pair of black shorts and his orange motorcycle
t-shirt. It was 43 degrees outside. I told him it was cold and that he would need to wear long pants today. And he said,

"Mommy, I KNOW what I am doing. I NEED to wear my short-sleeved pants today."

I sent him outside to test out his theory of knowing what he's doing. . .and he didn't even make from the sidewalk to the grass. He STILL wanted to wear the "short-sleeved" pants. . .but I had a little more clout after the wind came whipping around the house.

And did I mention that Victoria has straight A's for the second time this year AND was *chosen* (correction, see post above this one) as "Good Citizen" for the 2nd 6 weeks??? Well, now I have. :)

Redemption

Time to redeem myself for my rant last night. I give you an entry full of autumnal colors AND a recipe that I have not personally made but HAVE partaken of. I promise you this. . .it TASTES like Yankee Candles SMELL. You know how you pop the lid off those candles and you can almost feel the warmth of the kitchen and cold air outside. . .well this is THAT dessert.

Pumpkin Crunch

1 16 oz can solid pack pumpkin
1 12 oz can evaporated milk
3 eggs
1 ½ cups sugar
4 tsp pumpkin pie spice
½ tsp salt
1 pkg moist deluxe yellow cake mix
1 cup unsalted butter or margarine
1 cup pecan pieces

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease bottom of 9X13 pan.
Combine pumpkin, evaporated milk, eggs, sugar, pumpkin pie spice & salt in a large bowl - mix well, pour into greased pan.
Sprinkle dry cake mix evenly over pumpkin mixture, top with pecans.
Drizzle with melted butter.
Bake for 50-55 minutes or until golden brown.
Cool completely, then refrigerate.

Note: the sprinkling 1 C. of butter over dry cake mix looks just like my dump cake (or for Sarah EASY COBBLER) recipe. I normally just use 1 stick (1/2 C.) butter and slice it thin and put it around on the top. I let the oven do the melting. Of course, the version I ate had the whole stinkin' cup of melty, drizzly, cardiac arrest inducing butter adorning it. . .so who am I to go messin' with perfection?

It is certainly not lacking in the calorie department. . .but oh, the joy of a dessert that can only be rightfully enjoyed during the fall of the year. Here's wishing you some actual cold weather to enhance the enjoyment.

(*WARNING* THIS POST IS NEITHER FOR THE FAINT OF HEART NOR THE SHORT ON TIME OR PATIENCE. I JUST NEEDED A FORUM)

If I were Boomama or A.A. Milne, I would have named this post something clever like, "In which I vent so much smoke that the fire department shows up at my door." Instead, I will simply repeat what I am tired of hearing. . .

"You need to learn to say no."

If I could only count the number of times I've heard that this past week, well, I could probably fill an entire blog with those words alone. People see me rushing hurriedly about and say, "Boy! You look busy." What am I supposed to say? "No--really I find that being harried and feeling like my blood pressure is about to burst a vein in my head is the way I'm most comfortable." So instead I say, "Yes. I am." To which EVERYONE inevitably says, "You need to learn to say no."

Of course--those are normally the same people who don't pipe up to take the jobs that I am so busily running around doing. . .but that's another blog.

I, in fact, don't need to learn to say no. I say it very well. It's a small word. I even say really big words very well AND know their definitions. I astound my students every year by being able to say supercalifragilisticexpealidocious backwards. . .atleast the Mary Poppins version of backwards. I'm pretty sure that saying it REALLY backwards would either be impossible or vulgar, so I stick to her rendition and merely say dociousaliexpeisticfragicalirupus. I can even say it quickly--without spitting. But, I digress.

My point? Oh, yes. . .my point was that I am perfectly capable of saying no. But when I say it, people look at me at though I have cursed--or spat upon their newborn--or stepped on a puppy for fun. The look--I cannot describe it. I say, "No. I am really busy." To which I hear the proverbial, "Aren't we all?" And what I want to say is, "Okay sister--break out your list. . .'cause I'm pretty sure I've got ya whipped." But I don't. I say, "Yeah. It's tough." And then I spend the next 24-48 hours feeling guilty about saying no to them and wondering exactly what I could cut out of my schedule--atleast when I have time to feel guilty and wonder. . .it's stealth guilt. I all of a sudden find myself in a moment of solitude and relaxation (see denial) and think, "What do I need to do right now?" and there's where the stealth sneaks in.

So here is what I'm sayin' no to. Today I was asked to be on a committee at school. I said no. I said I am already doing too much at school. This particular look had a you-might-as-well-have-flashed-your-naked-hee-haws-at-me quality to it. I did not list for them what I am currently doing, so I will list it for you.

At school I teach. . .6 classes. Three of those classes are "on-level" (yeah, right) and two are workshop classes. One is a tutorial homeroom. Workshop classes contain children who have failed our state standardized test one-three times last spring and either barely made it or were "placed" (see failed but are too old to retain again) in 6th grade. People want to rant and rave about why we pass kids that can't read. . .well, I have a girl name Lauren in my 1st period class. She repeated 2nd grade. She repeated 4th grade. She has been tested twice for special education services. Both times she did not qualify. That means that her IQ is so low, that she is functioning to her potential and therefore there is place for her in special education, so she is placed back in "on-level" classes. She was finally diagnosed as dyslexic last year--but I think it's really just a low IQ rather than dyslexia. Lauren can't read on a 6th grade level. Lauren can't read on a 3rd grade level. And Lauren will NEVER EVER be retained again, because she will be 14 in March--that's right--FOURTEEN at the end of 6th grade. She's a sweet girl. She is, maturity wise, on a 6th grade level. But she will never ever be successful in school. There is no spot for her but the very precarious one between the proverbial rock and hard place--there is a crack with her name on it awaiting her arrival so she can fall through it. I am determined that not happen. . .but there is only so much I can do in these 9 months I have with her. Especially when it took me 15 weeks to find out all of the above information. Students are like babies--they don't come with directions. . .I would be so much more effective if each one arrived with a list of disabilities, hardships, home life issues, and preferences.

Again. . .digression.

Back to my list.

I am an official mentor for one student, but an unofficial mentor for probably 8-10 of my kids. I am an official mentor for a brand spankin' new baby teacher. I am the content area team leader for all of 6th grade reading. I am the Interdisciplinary team leader for one of the four groups of 6th graders at our school. There are 540 6th graders in all. I am a 7th grade homeroom tutorial teacher (which is when I'm supposed to do my IDT stuff, but they ran out of teachers, so I got it even though I don't teach 7th grade). I tutor two days each week after school. I have two parents that I need to call and I forgot to give tutoring slips to three kids today so they can stay after school tomorrow. I was supposed to be in three places at the same exact time yesterday between 2:40 and 3:20 at school--two different staffings for two different students AND a team intervention for a kid that is failing 5 classes whom I don't teach but I was the person responsible for running said meeting.

I am Brownie craft mom.

I organized ladies' day at church that I was unable to attend due to being a wife, a mother, and a daughter and sister-in-law. I am helping to coordinate VBS again this summer. I am slated to teach ladies' class each week this summer. I am SUPPOSED to be sending cards to the sick and shut-ins--but that hasn't gotten done. I got kicked off of the nursery roster for failing to show one time. I am supposed to help with Bible Hour in December and June.

We finally, after many years of saying we should do so, signed the kids up for soccer this fall. I am the team manager for Victoria's team.

Needless to say, several things that are my job in the mom/wife/human being department go by the wayside. I cannot begin to list the things I fail to do on a daily basis. . .or what I had to do to get Victoria a clean pair of panties to wear to school today.

This very day consisted of the following: just getting out the door. . .and minutes before that Victoria crying because she hurt in the direction of her pubic bone--which I was pretty sure was a urinary tract infection--got to school, got my kids started on a test, called the dr. to make an appt. for her--got one at 9:40. My planning times and lunch time and homeroom that I team teach happened to all be overlapped today due to an unusual schedule because of an assembly. . .so I was able to run to the office, get the okay to leave without having to get a sub, find someone to cover five minutes of a class--go to Tony's school to get the girl's booster seat, go to Victoria's school to pick her up (stopped and got her water on the way so she could pee on command), got to the doctor's office, saw him, went to the lab, was glad I got her the water, got her back to her school, and got back to my school 20 minutes before my next class period and just in time to catch the last 10 minutes of a department meeting. This afternoon was Brownies and V. and I got home at 6:00. . .meanwhile the dr. called and there is no infection which is great. Tony left to go to a meeting at 6:15. I made sure the kids ate dinner--got baths and homework and a bedtime story and some tickling and kissing all crammed in--started a load of laudry and sat down to write this little diddy.

Now. Exactly what is the dead wood that can be cut from my very overloaded schedule? All the things listed are good. All the things listed need to be done. Many of the things listed would go undone were I not doing them.

So here is what I decided this past weekend after I took a three hour nap in a tent on a blow up mattress due to exhaustion while everyone else was sitting under the trees having fun.

I am going to tell Susan L. that I cannot help with Bible hour. I am going to tell the card lady to stop wasting the church's stamp sending me a list of people to get cards to. I am going to tell the gal who is in charge of finding a teacher for ladies' Bible class that I will not do it this summer. . .no, not even to substitute or fill in. I am turning down any new requests at school that are not absolutely necessary (and EVERYONE feels that their request is necessary). I have already asked for and received Fridays and Mondays off from my tutorial class so that I can take care of team issues that are pressing. I am not going to any workshops, book studies, or extracurricular activities at school. I am not on any committees at school this year. I am not attending any seasonal parties.

What am I keeping? I LOVE being Brownie craft mom. . .crazy, I know. But I like knowing Victoria's friends at school, and it FORCES me to do things with her that would and have and do fall by the wayside at home. . .like teaching her (and 12 other 2nd and 3rd graders) how to sew on buttons. I will help with VBS again this summer. It is a huge project, but I have a great partner and it is a job that takes a lot of prep, but after the week is done, it's done. Soccer season is over December 2, and that job hasn't been too taxing anyway. I will miss teaching ladies' class, but it ties us down every week during the summer.

What do I want to do? Well, besides crawling into a nice, dark hole and pulling it in after me, I want to spend more time with my kids. I want to read the Bible daily. I want to get my photo albums done. I want to make my workshop classes at school as valuable as I can. I want to be able to relax at home and on weekends. I want to eat better, lose weight, exercise, and go to bed at the same time every night. I want to find a place to do yoga again and not feel guilty for spending the money to go and do it.

Pretty clear cut goals no? Well, I'll keep you posted on how I'm doing. In the mean time. . .I'm not depressed. I'm not disgruntled. I'm just trying to find the "happy medium" which is really pretty non-existent but worth looking for none-the-less. I have all of the skills and experience I need to make these things happen. . .it's just a matter of clearing away the underbrush so I can quit putting out fires.

I feel right now that I should list all of my blessings--which abound and are many and enjoyed on a daily basis. I am also quite sure that some of you have lists of things to do that would put mine to shame--not to mention other issues that I have never had to nor, hopefully, ever will have to deal with. I just needed to vent. . .to blow off the steam that has kept me from blogging since last week--which is something else I love to do. The blogging part. . .not the blowing off steam part.

And now--I'm off to fold that load of laundry. And try not to feel guilty for whining to all of you. And then I will go to bed too late so that I can spend some time with Tony when he gets home. Tomorrow I get up and go at it again.

To quote Forrest Gump, "And that's all I have to say about that." You can say whatever you like. . .but don't feel compelled to comment. As Tony told me once, "A vent only blows one way--out."

For a little comic relief from my fussin'--got to Rebecca's blog and see the things her precious children have said recently.

Must. . .be. . .creative. . .

I have been absent, I know. It's mainly because the list of things I've either done or been involved in or half way done but not well enough in the last week is long enough to choke a horse. . .and right now I have to help Victoria wash her hair. . .but I'll be back.

Stream of Consciousness Potpourri

I have several blog thoughts running through my brain:

the newly arrived arthritis in my right pinky finger
in-laws
baby showers
my kids
my husband
some of my students
how God always (ALWAYS) provides me a friend at work (EVERY single time)

But I have to go and hem blankets for the baby shower after teaching my students all day, attending a two hour meeting after school with my teacher friend, coming home to take care of my husband and kids, and having my right pinky finger hurt. The in-laws? Well, we're all going camping this weekend so that is just sort of. . .

In the meantime, go and visit Stephanie and Sarah to read some poetry and see a solution born of necessity that I'd forgotten I even came up with. If you need some humor, might I suggest visiting Rebecca and reading two of her four year old twin girl's conversations which makes this entry all the more understandable.

Elocution

Just where is Henry Higgins when you need him? We never had Henry Higgins. . .but we did have Gayla for one year. She was Thad's speech therapist from the ages of 2 to 3 years. She was patient and kind and Thad loved her AND made an 18 month gain in his speech development during his year with her. He was released from speech due to his rapid gains and the fact that his speech was that of an average 3 year old.

If you've been reading my blog, then from my description of Thad's verbage, you can tell that speech is again on the horizon of his little world. He comes by it naturally--Tony had problems for a long time when he was young. Thad can't quite make is "l's" and "r's" behave. He is getting better at his "th's" and "sh's", but we do a lot of compensating for him.

Here is a conversation that took place on Friday night as Tony and Thad played "Batman vs. Catwoman Legos."

Thad is looking at the picture of Catwoman (adequately clothed, mind you) and says,

"I wost huh wip."


Tonys says,

"You lost her rip?"

"No. Huh wip."

"Her lip???"

"NO!!!! Huh WIP!!!"

"You lost her rip or her lip?"

"Daddy, I wost huh WUH-IP."

Light bulb appears over Tony's head.

"OH!!!!! You lost her WHIP!!!!!!!!!"

Then he turns to me and says, "I was compensating when none was needed."




And just what would Catwoman be without her whip?

SOUNDS disgusting, TASTES divine

I grew up in a family of cooks. There is not a bad one in the bunch--from my Grandaddy to my own Daddy to my Momma and her Momma and everyone in between. We can take very few ingredients and make a wonderfully filling meal. We can take something that we measured completely wrong and fix it on the fly. My mother recently demolished a dessert. . .a sugar free lemon icebox pie in a graham cracker crust. I can't remember exactly how it happened--but the crust sort of got mixed in with the lemon filling, so she put it into muffin cups and served it anyway. Three people asked her for the recipe. . .WE CAN COOK. But when Tony and I first got married, I made what is known in the food world as a flop. I had gotten several cookbooks. . .and in an effort to use them, I found a recipe that looked like something Tony would enjoy.

In the Watts household, our refrigerator was filled with many strange and exotic things. . .the carcass of a deer in mid-processing, ducks that had just been scalded and picked, ground beef from cows that had been grazing in our pasture just a few days hence, 7-Up salad, wild duck dressing (and you felt like the lucky one if you found a piece of buckshot in your serving). But one thing I NEVER, EVER, EVER remember seeing in our fridge was sour cream.

Then I moved to Texas and was introduced to the world of TexMex and the many wonderful merits of sour cream. Tony and his sister in particular enjoy sour cream. . .Daisy brand, thank you. So when I saw a recipe for homemade sour cream macaroni and cheese, well it seemed to be something Tony would really enjoy.

Oh. My. Goodness. We tried to eat it--really we did. We were young, and newlywed, and poor, and hungry. . .but it just could not be eaten.

Since then I have been VERY careful of the new recipes I try--and I make sure thas sour cream would really and truly be a good addition.

That being said, allow me to introduce you to the SOUR CREAM APPLE PIE.

Before you go gagging, it is just about the most heavenly apple pie you will ever eat in your whole entire life. . .as my co-worker says, "It's the bomb-diggity." The recipe comes from our science teacher, Jim. The first time he handed me a dessert plate with this delicacy and said, "Try it. It's SOUR CREAM APPLE PIE." Well, I words cannot adequately describe the face I made. Nor can they describe how delicious this confection is. I urge you, if you like apple pie, or dessert, or anything really, really yummy to try it out. And it's VERY easy. The recipe follows:

SOUR CREAM APPLE PIE (and I'm not kidding)

4-5 Granny Smith apples, cored, peeled and sliced
1 C. sour cream
1 C. sugar
pinch salt
4 Tbsp. cornstarch or flour to thicken
1 pie crust (I used ready made)

Slap your pie crust in a pie plate. Slice the apples into the crust. Mix the other 4 ingredients together (it will be like pudding) and pour over the apples in the crust. Bake at 350 for one hour. . .you can turn the broiler on the last 4 minutes or so to brown the top if you like. Cool. Cut. Eat. And then you will quit laughing at me for suggesting such an ingredient.

REALLY. REALLY. GOOD. I have eaten several of Jim's pies, and tonight I have made my own. Tony does not yet know the secret ingredient. I will wait until after he eats the pie to tell him.

Addendum to the apple pie. . .
*There is no top crust
*I recommend browning the bottom crust a little before you put the apples and filling in it so it's not pasty
*I also prefer it at room temp. I put the remainder in the fridge last night, and I didn't like it as well cold. . .so you can either warm it up, or just eat it all after you cook it and it cools. :)
*Good Eatin'. . .I will own that our entire pie is already gone. . .it had not even 24 hours on this earth and is wholly consumed.

Lists for a Saturday

Yesterday was donuts with Dad at Thad's school. Tony didn't get to go seeing as how he spent the morning teaching OTHER people's children. Thad was not upset. He said he would just have donuts with Hunter. PLUS we promised him donuts with us on Saturday.

So off we go this morning.

Victoria made a list of the donuts we cared to consume for our mixed dozen (and my cinnamon twist). I think it was like 1 plain glazed, 2 chocolate iced, 1 white iced with sprinkles, 2 strawberry iced with sprinkles, 1 chocolate iced with sprinkles, 1 blueberry filled, 1 apple filled, 1 strawberry filled, 1 chocoate cream filled, AND 1 cinnamon twist.

We all four trooped into Shipley's bright and early--our little list of Langleys, completed the donut transaction, and headed back out to the car at which time Thad proclaimed his very own list to all within hearing range just in case they cared to know our intentions for the morning.

"We're happy! We're goin' home! And we're eatin' donuts!"

And so we did.