On the road with the Radiants. Blogging may be spotty over the next week as I fight for possession of the SuperMac when we have wi-fi. 

Ok, we're hitting the road, I'm out. 

Live blogging now, on a delay.
927 am riding in the van. Just had 2nd or 3rd coffee of my life. I am getting used to the taste, but not sure it really has any effect on my energy level. 40 miles to Phoenix headed for san diego, where we will meet up with tred. We originally had our sound check at the stadium this afternoon, but it got moved to tomorrow mrnng which is much better.
This is going to be an interesting Call since active protests are expected.

12:35 pm FYI: cell signal in the desert is pretty rotten. But don't people in the desert need phones?I mean with the heat and the sand and possibly vicious camels... In other news, the cows around here are packed really tightly, unlike our cows, who kinda hang out by the water cooler.

2:35 pm finally got a signal but the phone battery is nearly dead. We are still driving, and fasting, with no foreseeable end in sight.

3 pm driving through giant piles of rocks in California. This is the glamorous life.

724 pm in pre call meeting... I heart lou engle

Today was an important meeting at R2's school... I had rescheduled it twice, so I was so glad to be in town and available today. 

The way Special Ed works is, the student has to be in the school for 30+days before a diagnosis can be made that they qualify for Spec Ed classes. After meeting R2, they went ahead and made a temporary placement in the special class, planning on doing testings and evaluations and observations and such during the 30 day period. 

So, now that is over and today I sat down with a lot of people and discussed their findings.

I know my kid pretty well, so none of it was a surprise to me. Significant vision impairment? You don't say! and so on. So I tried really hard to show my appreciation for all of the work they've done in getting this understanding of R2, which is actually pretty darn accurate. 

So the diagnostician gave her results, and the speech therapists, and the physical and occupational therapists, and a variety of others. They all said something like, "Well, we started with this standardized test, but we weren't really getting anywhere, so we threw it out and tried testing this way. He didn't really want to cooperate, but he's such a nice kid." something along those lines. My boy had charmed every single one of those teachers. 

He ended up testing at a developmental level of about a 2 year old, which is a little younger than what I thought, but since I have what amounts to 2 2 year olds at home every day, I can see some truth in that.

A few of my favorite moments... 

•In one testing period, he started getting frustrated and wanting to be done, when the bell rang. This non-verbal little guy turned to the teacher and said, "The bell is ringing." 

•They were asking me about what signs he knows and I showed one he's been doing a lot that I didn't recognize. The speech therapist was laughing really hard and said it's the sign for "chocolate".

•They said he tears it up when they give him the microphone. I explained what his daddy does for a living and they thought it made a lot of sense. 

•At one point, the occupational therapist was reading a long list of "emerging" skills, or things that he is learning or trying but still not succeeding at. She said, "It's just so exciting. The world is about to break wide open for him..." I got a little choked up.

So overall it was so encouraging, and I hated to tell them we are probably moving in January. After a brief outburst of "Don't take my baby!" from a couple of them, they said the Individual Education Plan could be transferred to the new school in Texas, which made me feel better.

Overall, super encouraging meeting. YAY!

I have a sickness when it comes to my hair. I can't leave it alone. I want it shorter, longer, darker, lighter, chunkier, thinner, maybe a few pink streaks... red, brown, blonde, etc.

One time I was talking to the good ol' MOG about getting a haircut. He said, "I know it's hard for you because you've had this hair for several months." So true.

Anyways, I have been warring with myself about getting it cut off, since I have bleached the holy santos out of it and it looks really fried. 

So I found a picture in a magazine and then, when the babies fell asleep, I abandoned them to my mom and took off to Great Clips. 

"My Heck!" you cry. "Why Great Clips?" Budgetary constraints. I can't afford the dollars at a real salon, or the couple of do-overs and time I would get at the beauty school. Normally, I am down for a beauty school experiment. But I fly to Arizona on Thursday, and tomorrow is booked, what with grandmother drop-offs and pickups at the airport, and parent-teacher meetings. So I'd have to have it done right today, and the odds are low. 

Anyways, again. Off to Great Clips where the little snippet reluctantly agreed to cut my hair, despite having problems at home with her baby daddy. I showed her the picture, and initially she was agreeable. 

As time wore on she realized how plastic the back of my hair is from all the bleaching, and began offering subtly snide suggestions, like, you might as well just let your natural color grow out because this(holding up a strawlike clump)... and such. 

She looked a lot like Jamie Lynn Spears, if you read anything in the checkout line... I had to keep reminding myself that her name was not Jamie. 

Haircut 1 was not so great, so I found a different picture, which pleased Jamie Jenna, as it allowed her to make big chopping motions and ugly faces as she took off several more inches. 

So here I am. Ever since I stopped letting my friends cut my hair, I never like it much. I mean, I'll put some stuff in it and a little barrette and we'll get by... but man. I need my African pal to fly over and do some work. Some maroon streaks and a little texture and what-not. (Sigh)

Oh, and I tipped her more than usual, since she did two cuts, technically. For some reason, this seemed to annoy her. Pesky customers.

Today was a very exciting day for us... most of you have been following the story, but in case you haven't I'll recap. R2 (Richy the Second) was born 4 months early and as a result had numerous medical issues, ending (when he was about 4 months old) in a shrunken non-functioning left eye. 

We began the process of getting an ocular prosthetic (called a scleral shell) a few months ago. It's like a thick contact lens. We started with a clear conformer, which he has worn for 2 months to stretch the eyelid and make sure he can tolerate a prosthetic. So today was the big day to get the long-term shell, painted to match his good eye.

I got lost twice on the way there and once on the way back. Good times.

Once we were there, Dr. Turntine showed me the rough shell, which had to be sanded and painted and go through a variety of chemicals and machines before it would actually be wearable.

Then he brought Richy into his office and painted the iris while he watched him. I asked him if he did other art, and he does, watercolor and acrylics. He painted the blue and the blue-green and all the tiny little lines, and then he ran his paintbrush across some red thread and drew miniature veins on the corners of the shell.

Throughout the process he would hold it up to R2's good eye and compare color and such.

He drew in the pupil and then painted a clear coating over it all. We compared it one more time and then he put it inside something that looked like a vise, inside a pressure cooker. The curing process took over an hour so he sent us out and we got an oil change in the van, ate some lunch and listened to Rush in the van with the heater blaring (43 degrees out there, y'all).

When we got back, he took the shell out of the cooker and buffed it with that same circular tool they use at nail salons, and then exfoliated it further with a scary machine with a pumice. Then he used a big powered circular brush, and then he gave it to me to look at.

I dropped it on the ground first thing. Grace and ease, that's me.

Luckily, it had to be disinfected anyway so we dropped it in the stuff (medical term) and waited a few minutes. Then he took out the old shell and put the new one in.

It was so surreal, looking at my son who is so familiar, and this eye, which is about a perfect match, and remembering that first 4 months when he had both eyes.... so familiar and so strange.

He admired himself in the mirror for quite a while. I think he understands.

before:

after:

You might have heard that my husband has a new computer. I get to use it sometimes, like when he's asleep or now, when he is ankle deep in xlr cables and such. So I finally get to update the ol' blog.

Today I went to lunch with some mommies, saw Julie D's new baby (congrats!) and got to hang out with Steph, which has been long needed. Now I am perched in the sound booth at Christ the King whilst the guys set up for the concert mañana. I don't really help so much. For one thing, I am a weenie and can not carry heavy things to and fro. For another thing, I am a slacker. Also, I don't know much about sound. More than the average bear, sure. But not enough that I am very useful around here. It's a good thing I make good babies. That is my special job.

And that's all I got. Peace, I'm out.

So this is how it went down. A few weeks ago, I intercepted a text on my husband's phone... all I read was something about a "girls night" and then I backed out and didn't read any more, since I like to be surprised and the odds were good that that message was in fact, about a surprise, for me, involving my birthday. I then tried to eradicate it from my mind.

I dig surprises. Good ones, primarily. Some people that I'm married to like to sneak around and figure out all the surprises ahead of time and thus are rarely surprised. How many times will the word surprise show up in this episode? It's a surprise.

So anyways, then we drive to Texas and I know everyone is fasting and praying all weekend, so the likelihood of a birthday party is well, unlikely. Then I was talking to my sister about seeing Stephanie and she was all like, well, maybe we can do something for your birthday next week. So I, at this point thinking the girl's night was a no go, started talking about her house. Then she said, maybe at a restaurant or something... and that was it. Plan for no plan.

Then the hubby mentions that if I do something with Leah, I won't have the kids.

Do you know what a trial it is to be a smarty and to try very very hard to be un-observant? I should not read or listen to anything for the month of October and maybe that way I can miss it all....

So Monday all day I know something is coming. I got busted in the afternoon and tried to play it cool and not get any more surprise info. So at 6 we're supposed to be getting ready to go on our date, just me and Leah. And she's puttering around in her yoga pants and folding laundry and such.

And I know the party is not at her house. It's a mess by their standards, meaning there is a toy on the couch and the trash is full. So I am all gussied up and waiting- now maybe you're thinking, well, maybe Leah was just planning on going out in her yoga pants with her hair laying down flat.... and no glitter. If so, you don't know Leah.

So finally she gets all her bling and her glitter and sparkly clothes and her hair is vertical and jagged... Then she stands and looks out the window for a while. I so knew she was up to something. And unless the 5 minutes of casual window-watching was on the official schedule, she was acting a little wacky.

Again, I try to blank out my mind to be surprised. So we leave, after a very dramatic breakdown from a little person. (But I am a girl TOO! I want to go on the girl date!!!) and then we stop by Jen's house to pick up a check. We walk in and River is kinda hanging around and Wade is pretty excited, but he is Wade and all and that's how he is. So I think, blank slate. No party at Jenn's. THEN they all pop out from upstairs and yell surprise! And I actually was, mostly!


Then they made me change out of my normal looking (well, fairly) outfit and into a crazy ridiculous getup. Leah said since thirty's a big deal, I have to do whatever they say. So I got all dressed up and hairsprayed and we went out on the town. It was such a fun night, after a pretty lonely year.

The whole night was great, the Mexican food and the cheesecake and the bookstore and almost getting a tatoo, and making me stand on a chair and wear a sombrero.... we had a lot of fun but my favorite thing was just the talking. Such a diverse group of very close friends... several times, in Jenn's jeep and elsewhere, I just sat back and listened to them all talk. Oh, man. I have missed home.

Everywhere we went, people thought we must be drunk. Maybe it was my outfit. It sparked some good conversation.

Happy Birthday week continues!

I really meant to blog about my mostly-a-surprise party last night on today's post... but I never got access to the Holy MacBook until now. So I'll save it till tomorrow.

In the meantime, talk amongst yourselves. I'm on a 24 hour date with the hubby. Wahoo!

So this weekend we participated in the Prayer Storm here with our local churches in Conroe. And by local, I mean "loco".

Seriously. Ever since my sister Leah got taken to heaven and such, she has been so weird. It's great. She now has a dance company that does awesome prophetic intercession through movement. So this weekend we blasted it from the stage with the musicians, and they blasted it from the floor with the dancers. It was intense.

Again, my inner imp, (it's not a demon) would just occasionally observe the goings-on and say, "You know, this looks pretty wacky, what with the modern dancers with sticks and us up on the stage screaming, 'Life! Life! Life!'" But then my more spiritual and currently dominant side would be all like, "Well, who cares? Prayer moves things! Let's keep praying!"

A couple of times I thought, "What might my life have been like if I had been born to Baptists?" No offense to other denominations... I just love me some Charismania sometimes.

Last night I sang in between Richy and Daniel's guitar amps. It was kind of like having a prayer meeting at Guitar Center, only less demons. Man! It is the funnest EVER to do corporate intercession with the Radiants. I really really miss being a part, so anytime I get to get up there and participate, it is thrilling. It was a very successful Prayer Storm, both in terms of participation from all three congregations and effective prayer... let's see God move in Montgomery County!

---

In other news, I am still thirty. I found myself insulting Daniel multiple times over the weekend about his youth. He is 25. I, as you may or may not recall, am 30. Vastly older and more experienced... I remember when I was 25.

I have 5 more days in Texas... already had some Mexican food, although believe you me I will be having some more... yesterday the MOG and I simultaneously lifted our hands in thanks to the Lord after tasting the salsa from Rancho Grande... the Lord's salsa.

I am thirty today.
Thirty years old.
I have been a genius, and then a pretty smart person.
Broken 2 bones.
I've been to 4 countries, if you count Canada.
I've learned I was a sinner.
I have been in like, in crush, and in love.
I was engaged to be married in 4th grade for several hours, and then the real thing when I was 17.
I have vowed never to marry, and changed my mind within a matter of days, after meeting Richy.
I've learned love is bigger than me.
I've gotten married young, and never regretted it
I've made a lot of money, and given it up, for the better thing, couple of times, actually.
I've learned to love broken people.
I've been a youth pastor, a rock star and a mommy and wife. I still am.
I have felt the raw pleasure and thrill of finding out I was pregnant. Once.
I have felt the joy mixed with terror of finding out I was pregnant. 3 times.
I have given birth to 5 children.
I have been in the valley of the shadow of death.
I've learned to love deeply and not hold on too tight.
Have said goodbye to 2 children and a parent.
Grieved.
Grown.
I think I have laughed more than I have cried.
I've learned that the more I know, the less I know.

I'm thirty today, and I'm just getting started.

on the road today, blogging from iPhone. We are well on our way, in Oklahoma somewhere right now. I drove all morning with my good buddy Rush narrating the political scene along the way.

Things were getting a little ugly in here, but now that we've had some lunch I am expecting the babies to nap for a while, so we will only have one very grumpy little person to deal with.

Planning on doing some of the drive solo today when the mog drove for Daniel, I brought along a variety of electronic toys. Now I, having mommy brain, don't even hear this noise. But someone forgot their earplugs and that person was greatly bothered by radio+kid+noisy toys... He had to Indian-give his old earplugs and get them back from Daniel.

Now he's driving the van, and I am quite at my leisure. I have a melty candy bar and a bag of library books. Mmmm, good.

Today, we will be driving over to the Election Board and putting in our absentee votes. McCain, y'all. Missouri is a swing state, and maybe we'll swing it! Of course, we also have massive and widespread voter fraud here in Missouri, and even Kansas City, more specifically. Maybe I should vote a couple of times.

Then it's back home to pack and get ready for the long drive to Tejas tomorrow. We will be leaving at 6 am. Now, this is a curious thing. Over the 10 months we've been here, I have requested on each Texas trip that we leave early, as to not arrive when the day is already over. I have had this petition denied, every time.

See, but Daniel lives here now. So he and I had a little convo and found we saw eye-to-eye on the whole arriving during daylight idea. Also, since Daniel exists almost solely as a result of coffee, he is not intimidated by an early start. So I says to him, I says, "You pitch the idea to Richy."

Over lunch he mentions to Richy, "I'd like to leave at 6 am tomorrow."
Richy, with a mouthful of stew, "Okay."

What is this male-speak? And why don't it work fer me?

Regardless, we will be in Texas tomorrow evening. And I'm pretty stoked.

Today, we made yet another trip to the Ocular Prosthetician (I think I made that up. Doctor of Ocular Prosthetics), I thought to get the painted shell that will look just like his real eye.

But actually, it was just a check-up and then he made a mold for the painted eye, and we will come back in 2 weeks to get that done. Now, that appointment will be cool because he will actually paint the eye while we're there, and we get to watch.

(if you're coming in late here, it's like a painted contact lens, basically. It fits over the damaged eye and makes it look real)

I also found out today that the prosthetic has some motion, which I am excited about because I thought it would be stationary in his eye cavity there, and his one eye would move but not the prosthetic. But it does move! He said it won't move as much, but some. I am really excited about it... yes, I love technology.

In the meantime, the MOG was geeking out to a MASSIVE extent over the Mac Expo or whatever it's called today, where they were unveiling the new MacBooks. Now, it is time for a new computer around here, granted. The ones we have are not keeping up with all the Radiant stuff we need to do. But the level of geekdom... impressive. So we were at our appointment, and he is obsessively checking his phone for updates from MacRumors.com. And then we had to swing by the Apple store, where he found out they don't come out till tomorrow. And Radiant can't afford it yet, anyway. But he got to be in there with a lot of other geeks Mac enthusiasts, and so he's pretty happy.

And that is the news of the day. Sayonara!

I've been looking for houses to rent in Conroe... looks like we'll be moving back in late December or January. Problem is, we want a huuuuge place and it needs to be cheap. This means we need to live in the ghetto.
Now, I've talked about this before. There is a difference between living in a low-income area where basically everybody has a job, and living in the for-reals ghetto. We want the blue-collar housing, you know?
Anyways, a little discouraging because Texas is much more expensive than here. But hey! I'm looking at houses! At home! 

So if you have the hookup on some giant 7 bedroom that is inexpensive with no bloodstains on the driveway, lemme know! 

Oh, and we'll be in Texas this Friday for a week or so... playing at Prayer Storm... wahoo!!

Here's Bean's new skill from bedtime last night... now to teach her not to throw away clean diapers....

The MOG is out of commission today, with a stomach ailment. I believe it is part post-fasting stomach, part icky-virus, and part messed-up intestines (medical terms), and part gender. Is that to say all males are weenies? Of course not. Just most males, when it comes to being sick.

I don't mean to sound uncompassionate. He is genuinely sick, not faking or whining or being a weenie. I am just a terrible, terrible nurse. I'm kinda of the "take a couple aspirins and sleep it off" camp. I did bring him Rolaids on multiple occasions, but they offered little relief. So there you go.

In other news, R2 is doing well at school. He used scissors for the first time yesterday. They have special loop scissors that are easier for special guys to handle, and he cut some construction paper and helped glue it to a pumpkin drawing. Very cute. He is also getting more secure about climbing up in the schoolbus, and does not need us to hold his hand, thank you very much. On his note home yesterday, it said he "had a ball in music class"... I wish I could see what happens up there, but getting the notes home is nice.
Bean update: doing her best to walk everywhere. She drags boxes and hampers around the house as her walking aids. This adorable outfit was a gift from Sharon Schluter, and it fits perfectly! Somebody let her know about this picture!


and that other guy really does not want to sleep in his own bed... they tend to end up in the same square foot of sleeping space every night...



One of the hard things about R2's special needs was his distance from other kids, especially his siblings. We still want friendship to become a value for him, but in the meantime, it does my heart good that the two littlest ones are good friends. Happy weekend, time for me to take a nap!

So I took the day off yesterday. Sue me. On second thought, don't.

This morning I got my special request to sleep in... I have been up at 7 for about a thousand years now, and my brain won't shut off till midnight. So I was operating on a bit of a sleep deficit. I had written out explicit directions for the workings of the morning household as to not be disturbed, and I was only disturbed once, not bad...
Being that I have exceedingly loud children, I didn't actually sleep till they were screaming on the opposite end of the house. Then I fell asleep and slept till nearly 10 thank you Ricky Spark and Jesus....

Then me and the babies went to a new branch of the library, where evidently it is Senior Hour, every hour. We felt the burning glares on a quick sweep through the fiction section, so tried to wrap it up pretty swiftly. It would have been a slam-dunk on the outing-lunch-nap schedule, except for the whole-I-locked-the-keys-in-the-van- fiasco. We pay $3 a month on our cell plans for a free locksmith service (shut up) so that would have worked... except I also locked my phone in the van. So we had to go back in the library and talk to the head Senior, who reluctantly let me use the library phone. We then waited outside, since they hate us at this library. The MOG caught a ride with a buddy and came and saved the day.

So now we're home, and naptime has begun, about an hour and a half late. But hey, who's counting?

Our original plan, and tickets had Richy flying back home last night... after a week in San Diego, he felt like maybe it would be good to stay some extra time and help out. After thinking about it for a day, I agreed and then that was the new plan. 

Still, the overwhelmed and exhausted part of me was really wishing he would just come home as scheduled... but I wasn't actually asking him to do that because I knew they probably needed him for worship and such. 

The thing was, every time I talked to him about the new plan this week, he was a little fuzzy... not sure of the flight time, and such... did not appear to have cancelled the old tickets and so forth. So I was secretly hoping that he was being sneaky and coming home on time. I was trying really hard to not get my hopes up, because I can read something into everything, and sometimes I'm wrong... 

So yesterday he called in the morning and I could hear Daniel leading worship in the background. We talked for a while, and I was thinking, okay, he is not coming home. Probably. 

Then in the afternoon he posts a twitter of one of the San Diego guys playing pool. And I'm thinking, okay, it could be a decoy tweet, but actually I am probably nuts. Obviously he is still there and not coming home. Most likely.

Then around 11 something last night he calls and he's chatty Kathy and yet, very evasive about why he is not at the service, and who is leading worship. I asked directly, "What are you doing right now?" and he says "Oh, I'm just getting ready to go to bed." So we talk for a while and then he hangs up. 

I sat there, thinking. Okay, so that's it. 6 more days.  Definitely. Time to man up. And then my phone rings again. "Hey, I forgot something. Can you come open the front door?" and there he stands with flowers. 

Okay, he totally wins. Fooled me absolutely. "Did you lose all hope?" he asked. Yes, yes I did. Luckily, I was only hopeless for about 30 seconds. :)

misskerri said...
Dear Ms. Smartypants: Why do people always say "I want to help... let me do something" when you don't really need them, and then disappear when you're overwhelmed?

Oh dear reader, they were probably just having a little joke on you. Silly rabbit.

Oh, where do dustbunnies come from?

Being that this is a family blog, I will keep it simple. When two dustbunnies love each other very much....

Ms Smartypants:
Does Bedste have a boyfriend? -G
Precious reader: Bedste is keeping her options open. She may have been attracted to "Dozer Guy", and maybe even "Larry" the lawnmower thief. She is currently holding out for a more spiritual option, who is also flush with cash.

Is Mama Lord?
No, no. Mama is a Caucasian female. Lord is very likely a homeless black man, per Rev. Jeremiah Wright.

Will Shannon and Mere ever see their feet this decade?
Ahem. Seeing that "Mere" gave birth a few weeks ago, maybe this is a bit of a touchy subject. What real merit is clear visibilty, anyway?


anonymous said...
why does Tobias have a green ribbon in his hair?

Why does Tobias sample French Toast sticks from under the shelf at the thrift store? Why does Tobias proudly inform when he has peed on the floor? Why does Tobias remove the ancient a/c vent covers and throw toys down the hole? This is a mystery, but I am speaking of Tobias and his weirdness.

I was going to write a very angsty post this morning, about loneliness, and friendship and the human condition. I thought of it last night around 3 am, when Toby had a dirty diaper and woke up screaming and then came and slept in my bed. Lucky for you, since then I've had two meals and been to Walmart. I am now feeling much more positive about life in general, and the possiblity of a nap for yours truly. 6 days till the MOG comes home!

When R1 is gone, I tend to clean a lot. This is a strange phenomenon, since he would like me to clean a lot more when he's here. The thing is, when he's here, I want to hang out with him, and also, I want him to do it. When he's gone, the buck stops here.

So every night I clean enough that if CPS showed up in the morning, there'd be no fodder for the local news. (I once was reported to CPS for refusing to work with a certain physical therapist for R2. They threw the case out the next day. I however, have evidently been traumatized).

Anyways. Every morning the kitchen looks pretty good and the living room is spotless. My room has been somewhat neglected. I have a brain problem. If it seems like something is full, like a drawer, for example, then I just freeze up. Where will I put this shirt? I think. So I set it on top of a dresser or shelf and there it sits for the duration of my life.

Along with the space issue, if it's a variety of messes, I freeze up. So look in my room.Several baskets of clean wrinkled laundry. A box of sundries collected by my husband and put in here for me to sort. Toys, toys, toys. One of 5 different pairs of shoes. Hair clips, jewelry. A giant stack of papers. Some. vital. Others, completely insignificant. Sometimes when it's like this I just stop. Where to start? What to do? Holy Moly! I have to move.

Today I determined to take it all on. Even if it was all I did today. So I started with the box of sundries since that's the most confusing. I put it up on a closet shelf. Check. Out of sight...

Then I took all the toys and threw them in the hallway, much to Toby and Bean's delight. Used binder clips to clip my earbuds to the bulletin board. Sorted papers into "discard now" and "stack nicely". Now, that looks better. Put nail polish and hair accessories in a pile in the bathroom. Hid random software and computer guts in a bookcase.

Now there is a giant mountain of clean laundry to be sorted and folded and put away, or folded and put on top of various surfaces.

Flylady, eat my dust.

In other news, we appear to be getting over the plague. Fewer hell-diapers and no puke in a day or so. 

What stinks is I am already over saturated in the Marriage Bank. The amount of horribleness I have had to deal with, and will deal with in the next 10 days, can't be made up. My husband is going to have a serious budget deficit. 

Last night I was telling him I was going to go to a hotel alone when he came home... he quickly assured me, "Hey, I'm going to help with the kids! You can go to the library, the thrift store, whatever!" (bolding mine) I am thinking more along the lines of 3 days in Cancun. Alone. 

Don't get me wrong, I miss him, a LOT. I just wish that daddies had a glimpse of what life is like for mommies sometimes. 

Miss Smartypants is ready for your questions! Advice, etiquette, croquet, and political questions can be submitted over the weekend, and if they are of any amusement, they will be answered on Monday! Submit your inquiries now!

I am not feeling so great at the moment. Super bummer. Especially because I got invited to a cool lady's house to have coffee (or you know, whatever) and now we can't go because we are siiiiiick. 

Pray it passes quickly, and no puking. I hate puking maybe even more than the devil.

I will be 30 in 16 days. No, I don't think you understand. THIRTY. I gotta... do something. I need a tattoo. Or another baby... or something. THIRTY. Holy crud.

In other news, I may have gotten my second wind on this solo thing. I'm doing okay today, and even yesterday with the puking. I am still trying to think of something to do. Parks are a no-go, with Toby being all kamikaze- we need two adults. And McDonald's Playplaces are great for both babies, but you can't really eat out every day. Oh, try to just get a drink there or something? Let me introduce you to Toby. 

There is this Resource Center here that's a community deal. They have a play area and so on. Problem: it's through this group called Parents as Teachers. 

I'll tell you the story. So it's billed as these play-instructors who come to your house, bring gifts and books and play with your kids and check out their development and such. I signed up, in an effort to not get reported to CPS or some such entity. 

When the lady got here she was immediately all parental with me, which really does not work with me AT all. 

I expect respect from teachers and such. As in, "hey! you know 

your kids best and here's some ideas we recommend but we're sure you already know this stuff".  

NOT "well, actually, we promote something called positive reinforcement. Even if little Junior 

here is jumping on the bed and juggling butcher knives, we don't use the "no" word. Children don't learn that way." Snooty. 

And so in my head I'm like MALARKEY and she is putting the pressure on pretty sternly about 

getting little Toby here in preschool in December and I'm like OH heck no and so on. I put on my polite "you're full of it" face and nodded and smiled her on out of my house. 

Anyways, I hesitate to use their playground, lest the Parenting Gestapo feel the need to come educate me. Sorry, pet peeve. For reals.

Blah blah, right? Sheesh. Thirty years old.