Thursday, March 25, 2010
Sometimes it's torture
For the most part I love my job. There are times however, that I do not. Puppetry is one of those times. I teach Puppeting to 3rd graders and while most elementary students today are lacking imagination, it seems that the 3rd graders at my school are lacking the most. My word, if I have to see one more puppet show about Red Riding Hood that ends in every puppet eating each other, I might lose it. I have no idea how to encourage imagination...even when I tell them to just "play" they don't know how. Today took the cake, when Little Red arrived at Grammy's she asked "Geez Grammy, why didn't you just order take-out?"
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
All I could manage...
It's Wordless Wednesday, It's my 100th post and I haven't posted in over 2 weeks, so this one needs to be special. 12 years ago yesterday one of my best friends gave birth to the sweetest little boy in the world. At the time, I had no intention of having my own children and doting on this special guy was enough. I have watched him grow over the years and have been as proud as if I had borne him myself. Logan, your Titi loves you so much and is so proud of the young man you have become.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Got me
Dallas was making this horrible high pitched squeal in the car today. I yelled backward "Dallas---that is the most obnoxious sound I've ever heard" He grinned at me and said "I know, isn't it?" and of course....he did it again.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Well, you lost your turn.
I know this is Wordless Wednesday, but this is priceless. Addi was fighting her brother to sing the song by herself. She yelled at him to stop singing the ENTIRE song and well, she lost her turn.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Take Care of Your Family
I pulled into the parking lot that Tuesday morning in the same way I had for the last 2 years, except this time, something was different.
I had spent all Monday night dealing with a pukey kid. Dallas had inexplicablly began puking on the way home from school. I was pregnant with Addison and the smell had me at my wits end. I was very thankful that my coworker carpooled with me and took care of him and the mess. I called my mother after dropping Stephanie off. Her and my father were out of town in San Antonio. I told her that Dallas kept throwing up and asked her when they would be home. They were in the middle of the meeting and so she whispered in a hurry that they would be back Tuesday morning. I got off the phone embarassed for calling and interrupting their meeting and wishing that they would just hurry home tonight. At that moment, nothing would have made me feel better than my parents being nearby to help me with Dallas.
We got home to the delicious smell of Bean Soup in the crockpot. Of course, with all the sights and smells I had on my journey home, I wanted nothing to do with it. I laid on the couch with my son in arms and tried to comfort him in between bouts of vomit. Finally, just before 1:00am, he stopped throwing up as mysteriously as he had started. I looked at Jayson and sad "Honey, I have a big day tomorrow, I have got to go to bed, will you please stay down here with him in case he throws up again?" Jayson said yes and I went up to bed. I had a restless night, no dinner and a baby twirling around in my belly to boot. I wondered if I, too, was going to get the stomach bug that had plagued my son.
The next morning came too quickly, in order to be at my job in time, I usually leave the house aroun 5:45a.m. We put Dallas in the car armed with trash bags and paper towels just in case.I picked up Stephanie and headed to Irving. I was so hungry from the night before that right before I got to Dallas' babysitter's house, I stopped at the donut shop for my favorite pregnancy treat, an eclair.
I pulled into the parking lot that Tuesday morning in the same way I had for the last 2 years, except this time, something was different. Marta's door was wide open and I thought I saw my sister Debbie. I wondered what she was doing there at 6:00 in the morning. My lack of sleep couldn't comprehend what she could be doing there and I got out and told Stephanie to wait. I walked to the door apprehensively because now I knew for sure it was Debbie and Pastor Mcfarland (my father's coworker) and Jackie (my mother's best friend) What was going on? Debbie looked at me and started to talk. "It's Dad..." she started to cry. In that moment, I thought for sure that my parents had been in a car accident. I remembered the hurried phone call with my mom and I was sure that they had been coming back from San Antonio for me. "It's Dad... she continued, her voice breaking. "He's had a massive heart attack, he's dead" Those words, once out, brought me to my knees. I don't really remember the next part because its more painful than I care to remember. All I do know is that somehow my life had changed in an instant with those stupid words.
I can no longer eat Bean soup, a chocolate eclair, I can't stand the first Tuesday in March, I worry myself sick when my son throws up and I miss my Dad every Fucking Day (It's okay, he told me once I could say that word if I really was hurt).
I had spent all Monday night dealing with a pukey kid. Dallas had inexplicablly began puking on the way home from school. I was pregnant with Addison and the smell had me at my wits end. I was very thankful that my coworker carpooled with me and took care of him and the mess. I called my mother after dropping Stephanie off. Her and my father were out of town in San Antonio. I told her that Dallas kept throwing up and asked her when they would be home. They were in the middle of the meeting and so she whispered in a hurry that they would be back Tuesday morning. I got off the phone embarassed for calling and interrupting their meeting and wishing that they would just hurry home tonight. At that moment, nothing would have made me feel better than my parents being nearby to help me with Dallas.
We got home to the delicious smell of Bean Soup in the crockpot. Of course, with all the sights and smells I had on my journey home, I wanted nothing to do with it. I laid on the couch with my son in arms and tried to comfort him in between bouts of vomit. Finally, just before 1:00am, he stopped throwing up as mysteriously as he had started. I looked at Jayson and sad "Honey, I have a big day tomorrow, I have got to go to bed, will you please stay down here with him in case he throws up again?" Jayson said yes and I went up to bed. I had a restless night, no dinner and a baby twirling around in my belly to boot. I wondered if I, too, was going to get the stomach bug that had plagued my son.
The next morning came too quickly, in order to be at my job in time, I usually leave the house aroun 5:45a.m. We put Dallas in the car armed with trash bags and paper towels just in case.I picked up Stephanie and headed to Irving. I was so hungry from the night before that right before I got to Dallas' babysitter's house, I stopped at the donut shop for my favorite pregnancy treat, an eclair.
I pulled into the parking lot that Tuesday morning in the same way I had for the last 2 years, except this time, something was different. Marta's door was wide open and I thought I saw my sister Debbie. I wondered what she was doing there at 6:00 in the morning. My lack of sleep couldn't comprehend what she could be doing there and I got out and told Stephanie to wait. I walked to the door apprehensively because now I knew for sure it was Debbie and Pastor Mcfarland (my father's coworker) and Jackie (my mother's best friend) What was going on? Debbie looked at me and started to talk. "It's Dad..." she started to cry. In that moment, I thought for sure that my parents had been in a car accident. I remembered the hurried phone call with my mom and I was sure that they had been coming back from San Antonio for me. "It's Dad... she continued, her voice breaking. "He's had a massive heart attack, he's dead" Those words, once out, brought me to my knees. I don't really remember the next part because its more painful than I care to remember. All I do know is that somehow my life had changed in an instant with those stupid words.
I can no longer eat Bean soup, a chocolate eclair, I can't stand the first Tuesday in March, I worry myself sick when my son throws up and I miss my Dad every Fucking Day (It's okay, he told me once I could say that word if I really was hurt).
Monday, March 1, 2010
Donkey
Dallas can spell. This is a fact that I can no longer ignore. Sunday night, I told Jayson that he needed to bathe Dallas because he smelled like a.s.s. (yes, I spelled it) and Dallas asked "I smell like ass? Why do I smell like ass? Mommy, I don't smell smell like ass, you smell like ass!"
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