Two funny Halloween stories, one for each kid...

We've all got them, either about ourselves or about our kids, or someone we know...so BRING IT!

Alex:
He was Darth Maul. Remember him? Double edged light saber (or light saver as I always used to call them) It was a standard costume...robe, weapon, and the plastic mask that only cover the front of your face with the piece of rubber band like stuff that goes around the back of your head. Two eye-holes and a little slit for the mouth. You're with me, right? So Kevin, being Kevin, as we're taking pictures, keeps telling Alex to smile. Which of course we can't see. Finally Alex has had enough "I AM smiling!!" he yells back. And can't understand why we're laughing our asses off.

Owen:
Same year. He was Barney. Adorable. Walking around Chesterton trick-or-treating, not really getting it because he's only 2 1/2. We're at one of the last houses. The lady opens the door and exclaims..."Look, it's Barney!" And Owen turns around looks behind him and says "WHERE???" He was so excited because he thought Barney was there!! He never realized she was talking about HIM. I thought Kevin was going to pee himself.

What are your best costumes? Your worst? Best you've seen? Speak, freaks!

It's almost the witch's eve...

Or whatever it is they call Halloween. I call it a pain in the ass. Costumes and pumpkin carving and freezing your ass off for candy that they really won't even eat. At least mine won't. WHAT??? Kids that don't eat their weight in candy on Halloween?? Nonsense you say!

I'm so glad you all enjoyed the cookie story. Because there's even more hilarity where that came from. From the same day. Seriously.

But to tell you that story, I, of course, have to tell you this one...

Tuesday during the day, I was determined I was going to find a bowling ball. I want my own ball, dammit! Is it so much to ask? Apparently so. But I digress. So I mention to Nick the programmer that I'm going out and he asks me if I'm going anywhere near Best Buy - yes...he asks if I'll pick him up a copy of "Nacho Libre" - apparently someone else in the office did and if you buy it now, you get this mask with it. Sure, no problem. Well this whole conversation takes place within earshot of the man in the corner office, who is now intrigued and would also like a copy. Fine. 2 copies of Nacho Libre with masks coming right up. Whatever.

I don't find a bowling ball, I find the movies, I pick up a box lunch from Heavenly Ham (LOVE!) and I'm back at the office. Brilliant. Except that I don't buy widescreen, don't think in widescreen and apparently the man ONLY thinks in widescreen versions. Whoops, my bad. I tell him that I'll exchange it, because I'm bound to be going that way again, as I'm determined to pick up a bowling ball.

So....I put the movie in my car, work until 3am (stop.singing.kathy.), drive home with my window down in the freezing cold looking like a drunk, sleep a couple of hours, get the window fixed, Owen comes home with cookies...you're all with me, right? Good. So I tell Owen to go get in the car with the cookies and I'll be right out.

I come out of my house, I'm walking through the garage, and there, in the car...is this:

Yeah, that's right...Owen has gotten in the car, seen the movie, opened it and put on the mask...THAT DOESN'T BELONG TO ME, while eating the cookies that also DON'T BELONG TO ME. Of course, I only know that the mask doesn't belong to me at this point. I am walking through the garage, looking at Owen in the car in slow motion saying "No-o-o-o-o...Owen, no-o-o-o-o" He's just smiling and playing with the buttons on the radio minding his own business.

Um, Owen, that mask isn't ours. Oh, it isn't? No...I was taking that movie in to exchange it for someone. Oh, sorry. Yeah, well, you didn't know. I guess we own it now. Cool, can we watch it tonight?

We get to Best Buy and they have the widescreen version with the mask, I go to work, give it to the man, all is well...and we hand out stolen Halloween cookies and fix phone system problems all day.

So now you understand why the cookie thing was even MORE hilarious for me when it was happening. That day was unbelievable. Seriously.

Tale of a cookie monster...er....thief....

So yesterday was quite an interesting day. But to tell you that story I have to tell you this one...

Once upon a time, a thirtysomething decided to upgrade the phone system at the office. This was planned for two nights, after hours. Brilliant. Last Tuesday was night number one. Things were programmed, life was good. I was out of here by 9pm. I was told that the hardware install would basically be plug and play and wouldn't take long.

Ahem. Flash forward to Tuesday night. I get the kids home, come back to work. We start the install. Things are humming, humming humming, the new system comes up. Oh yeah, PS, NONE OF THE PORTS MATCH THE EXTENSIONS? What, you say? What does this mean? And more importantly, why do I care??? Well, you care because it affects me...and what does it mean? Well, you don't really care about that so I'll skip it.

ANYWAY...because of all of this...we leave here after 3AM. 3AM people. (And katmat I KNOW you're singing that song now...I read you like a BOOK! A book I say!) I clocked out at 3:02, turned off some lights, set some alarms, walked out the door, scraped the frost off my car. I roll down my window to remove said frost and when I push the button to put it back up...nuthin. N.U.T.H.I.N. nuthin. Did I mention there was FROST on my car? That means it's COLD people...COLD. And it was now like 3:20 in the morning and I have to drive 35 minutes down I-65 at 75 mph with my window down. Good times.

I'm frozen by the time I get home. Literally. My hands would not uncurl from the death grip I had on the cold cold steering wheel all the way home. Luckily I live out of my car so I had a sweatshirt handy to wrap around my hands and the wheel for wind blockage. I did not have gloves. I get a couple of hours of sleep, find someone to fix my window. Work from home all morning troubleshooting various stuff...Owen comes home from school. Half day...parent teacher conferences.

The great cookie caper

He walks in with an assload of mail and a box of cookies. "Here you go, mom" he says. "What are these?" I ask. "Cookies from Market Day" he says. huh. Cookies from Market Day? I didn't order any cookies from Market Day. Or did I? Hell, I don't know, maybe I did...or maybe it's one of those promo things they do and I'm getting them after the fact. Whatever. Let's go to work. So Owen and I jump in the car and come up here to the office. We're eating cookies. They're really good. Shorbread with sugar and mmmmmmm...When we get here I tell Owen to see if the girls outside my door want cookies. And then he basically walks around the office handing out these yummy cookies.

We leave.

We go to Owen's parent teacher conference. Blah-blah-blah Owen's great, blah-blah blah can you help with the Halloween party we're having tomorrow? Sure. What do you need? Chips maybe. We have candy. "I had this box of individually wrapped jack-o-lantern cookies but I have searched this school high and low and I simply cannot find them"

Owen pipes in "Really? We got some of those, too."

I think I went ashen. I am looking at Mrs. Reyes and Owen and they're having this whole conversation about these cookies. I'm not sure what I looked like, but inside my head was pounding, OH MY GOD WE HAVE THE CLASS COOKIES! And we ate them. And gave them to my entire office to eat. Without even a second thought. OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG.

So we get out of the parent teacher conference and I ask Owen where in the hell those cookies came from. "The mailman" he says. HUH? Market Day has never MAILED anything. "Are you sure?" "I think sooo....yeah...well..." Okay...they came in the mail. So we DIDN'T steal the class cookies. Fine. Moving on. This is all making sense in my 2 hours worth of sleep world.

So we go home, change for Scouts, leave, comeback. Now I'm going through Owen's backpack. In it we find a big huge Scholastic book order catalog. You all know the order sheets they send home with the kids? Well this was the motherload of those. An American Girl catalog. ummmm, huh? A grad schmokken-flokken catalog...some sort of teacher's catalog. uh-oh. And Alex pipes in..."That looks like the book order thing that the teachers have, why do you have that Owen?"

And...
wait for it...
"It was on my chair with the ... cookies... oh my gosh...mom, the mailman didn't bring those cookies! That's right! They were on my CHAIR at school with all of THAT mail. So I brought it all home."

Oh yeah, that's right. We really did have the Halloween party cookies. So I now have to call the teacher and try to explain this. Before I could call her in the morning, she emailed me...
"I was told to call you or email you today
I think I might know what it is about
I searched the whole school for that mail and those cookies
Owen says he saw it on his chair so he just took it home.
Could you send them back and we will eat them on Tuesday, Oct 31st?"

Ummmmmm, yeah except we ATE them. shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. Props to Owen for going straight to his teacher and telling her what happened. But he neglected the part where we ATE them. Oy.

So I reply and tell her that the cookies are, in fact, no more...but I'll be happy to replace them on Tuesday with something else!
The response?
"don't worry about it
I really got a good laugh about it!!
It is nice to know you still owe me
HA!
I thought you were acting a bit uncomfortable last night
Now I know why
It was an honest mistake
I don't know why Owen didn't ask why those were on his chair
THe sub would have known
we really don't need any treats on Tuesday
Eat and enjoy the rest of the cookies
You can help with our next party
have a great day and weekend"

Well, at least she's got a good sense of humor. I owed her before for cancelling out on the class field trip because of work. I had paid my debt. Now I'm back in up to my neck. I want to light myself on fire. Cannot believe this is happening to me. Only me, ya know? Seriously.

Cold hands, warm heart?

Seriously. Freezing. In my office. FREEZING people. I'm wearing pants and socks and shoes and a sweater and right now I can't feel my toes. My point with mentioning my wardrobe isn't to point out that yes, I'm a big girl and can dress myself. It's to point out that I'm dressed for the weather. AND I'M INDOORS. It's not like I have some roadworker position (not that there's anything wrong with that - I just don't work outside. ever. EVER.) I shouldn't have to bundle into my carharts to come into my office and work in IT. It's ridiculous. I think there was frost on my plant this morning. Poor little thing.

Scott and I used to make jokes about cutting people open and crawling into them to keep warm. Too grotesque for you? Try being Kathy. She worked between us, and Scott and I would play rock, paper, scissors to see who got first dibs. Think Rob Roy.

The cold can numb your brain, in addition to every digit on your mouse hand and your toes. I have no feet right now. Cannot feel them. I just kicked on my space heater, which will, in turn, make my office an oven and my hair will frizz. The problem is, you would think, that if my office is cold in the winter months (yes, I know, it's not even winter yet) - it would be hot in the summer months.

Oh contraire little foolish ones. In the summer they have the AC kickin' in this icebox to an extent that I dress for work the same way all year round. Pants and sweaters. I try to wear skirts, because I LOVE skirts (Julie makes fun of me for this) - but I always end up growing back the very hair I shaved off my legs that morning in the shower. WHAT? It's your body's natural response to cold. You grow hair. It's true. Look it up. Okay. Don't look it up, see if I care. Just doing my part to try and educate you.

In defense of the office, I am cold all of the damn time. Even at home. I've had my thyroid checked every year for the last 5 or 6, and according them it's normal. Someone suggested I go see an endocronologist, but I can't do anything like that until after Jan.1 - we're changing insurance and I went with the high deductible plan, and I don't want everything to come out of my pocket just before Christmas...plus I want it to apply to next year's $1100 deductible.

Anyway...I can't concentrate due to the cold, so I thought I'd bitch about it. I miss Eileen. She had surgery last week - so let's think good thought for our Midwest girl in the Pacific northwest.

It's an unhealthy relationship, but at least it's a relationship...

Oh Thai food, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways...
One little pot sticker, 2 little pad thai noodles, 3 little 5 star chickens....

What? You thought I was going to start dishing on the Kev-head? Yaw outta yaw damn mind. I'm talking about FOOD people. My lifesource. Well, your lifesource, too, I guess...technically, but not the same way as me...and, well, as Kathy. Food is an event. It's something to look forward to on your way to work. A good meal plan can make your WHOLE day better. We've been planning on having thai food all week...and now it's here and the anticipation is going to kill me. It's ordered. I'm leaving to pick it up in just a few minutes. Half the office is involved. I can say that now that we're down to like 5 employees. Okay, maybe it's not that bad, but you get my drift.

I was listening to Dean Martin...yes on purpose...this morning and Kathy says "I need you in your kitchen making a pot of red sauce with this playing" to which I respond..."I think I have." And then we segued into this whole conversation about how she's been craving my red sauce and I know I have - so it's settled. I'm making sauce and meatballs this weekend so I can bring some to Kathy next week. Now we're really excited because lunch on MONDAY is going to be so great. MONDAY, people...with me here? I'm already excited for Monday's lunch, nevermind the fact that I'll probably be eating it for Sunday dinner, which is exciting enough.

Hell, I was excited about the green bean casserole I made last night. Totally propelled my car home and made me excited to cook. And then I think I ate the whole damn thing by myself. Well, not really, but I think I could have. I had to make myself stop.

I'm not a stress eater, that's for sure. Kathy hates it when I'm in a bad mood because I never know what I want for lunch and nothing sounds good and I don't really eat what we do end up getting. She gets pouty and whiny and tries to cheer me up so I'll be excited about food. That's her cross to bear - she counts on me to match her food excitedness. Usually I'm right there, but we all know it's been crappy around here lately, so it's been hard to get excited about food.

Yesterday Tigger and I had lunch at the Abuelo's...that totally hit the spot. Like a good meal can be a substitute for good sex....that's how attached I am to food. You get done and you're like DAMN, I SO needed THAT, and then you want to roll over and go to sleep with a smile on your face. It's brilliant. So I guess, when I say it like that, I sort of have an unhealthy relationship with food AND with Kathy...and probably with Tigger...but that's a subject for another day. Right now I'm going to pick up the thai food.

Time time time, see what's become of me...

While I looked around
For my possibilities
I was so hard to please...

I'm starting my own little "annoyances.org" right here, right now. Seriously. Clocks of the world...UNITE.

I wake up. My alarm clock is set to a certain time, usually a few minutes faster that the "actual" time. This is a game I like to call "fool yourself into being on time." Right. Because I don't knooooooow that the time is actually faster, so I won't hit snooze? I'll jump out of bed screaming "Oh my gosh, it's 6 o'clock! I should be in the shower right now!!!" When I really do know it's only 5:54 and I have 6 more minutes, which OF COURSE means I have the 8 more minutes required by my snooze button. Seriously.

But I digress.

My alarm clock says one time. I turn on the news. My satellite says another time. The clock ticker on the news program says ANOTHER time. I walk into the kitchen and of course the microwave and the stove, even though I set them the same, are not in sync...and even though I set BOTH OF THEM by the satellite time (because in my head that's syncing up to some atomic clock somewhere) - they do not match the satellite time. We've had so many power outages I don't even bother with the radio time and the coffee maker time. Those I just ignore. Besides, do I really need 4 clocks in my kitchen with different times?

By the time I finish getting ready and get into my car, 5 minutes have passed. Even on my best day, with my plantar fasciitis in full blown agony, no way it takes me five minutes to get from my kitchen to my car. Have you people seen me walk? It might be awkward, but it's usually quick. My car time drifts all over holy hell...that thing is syncing to the beat of it's own drummer. I've sync'd it with my Nextel (piece of shit that it is, but that's another annoyance for another day) - I've sync'd my car with that phone 52 ways from Sunday, but it just keeps drifting.

So I don't really know what time it is, and I have to have Alex to the school before 7:25am. Now there have been times when I've left my house with my kitchen clock saying 6:52, my car clock saying 6:56 and my Nextel saying 6:57 - I get to the school with my car clock saying 7:22 - and the door is closed which means by THEIR time - it's 7:25 and Alex is LATE. WHAT THE???

Who are they syncing THEIR time to? God? How do I get in on that action???

By the time I get to work it's 7:34 in my car, but 7:40 when I clock in. Whodawa? Because when I sit down my phone system says it's 7:36 and my computer says it's 7:37. Can you see how this all starts to get very...very...frustrating??? So I got here today and resynced my timeclock with my computers that actually do point to an atomic clock and I'm about to do the same with the phone system. My Nextel seems to be on that same frequency, so I'll change my car time when I go to lunch and sync my kitchen clocks to my Nextel. Satellite, morning news and school be damned. I know what time it is for fuck's sake so they can suck it.

I'm just tired of all the clocks in the world rebelling. Because by this time next week, my car will be minutes off, my phones here at the office will be minutes off, the timclock will be in it's own world somewhere with my kitchen clocks and I still.won't.get.Alex.to.school.on.time.

Ponytails - bringin' em on back now....

Sometimes, I'm just not right. I openly admit this. I hope you're okay with that. So at cub scout camp this past summer - I decided to change things up a bit. I have no idea why - or maybe there was a reason and I just don't remember it. At any rate, I pulled up the locks into two ponytails...a throwback to my youth if you will. I mean, if they can try and cram the skinny pants and leggings and skirts over leggings back down my throat, why can't I wear ponytails? So after 4 days of camp I came to love my ponies. The kids thought it was a hoot. I came home and Kevin said it made me look younger - which is NEVER a bad thing, so occasionally I'll throw up the ponies again.

I hadn't done this in awhile. And lately, I just haven't been feeling very fun - which is clearly the preferred attitude of the pony-wearing girl. Non-fun girls wouldn't be caught DEAD in ponies. I was bowling not-so-hot last night, still beating my average, but looking like shit doing it...open frames everywhere....and it dawned on me...I needed ponies! YES! Up went the hair and down went the pins. BRILLIANT! Another girl on my team was tired of her shit game, too - up went the hair, down went the pins! A trend! A miracle! My karma was coming around! Next thing you know - all 5 of us on the team were up in ponies...ab fab, babies. It was a statement to say the least.

So this got us talking about "theme nights" for our team. One of our girls is preggers - and she requested sweat-suit night. Ummmm, no. If there's one thing I should never ... ever... EVAH be seen in public wearing - it's a sweat suit. But I understand her need for comfort - alas - a compromise. J-Lo velour track suit night. We may even all go shopping together so we can buy the same one in different colors. Do you think they make 5 different colors of the same velour track suit at somewhere like tar-jay? Do you think I'll have to claw my teammates eyes out to get the black one? You know sister girl over here is not wearing pink. no. stop it. the laughing. picturing me in a giant pink velour track suit. Oh yeah - that's a look right there.

We're also contemplating an 80's night. I'm suddenly feeling the need to cut the collar out of an oversized sweatshirt....and I need legwarmers. Are they selling those again?

What other REALISTIC themes could we do? No, Jimmer - we will never have S&M night or anything that involves leather. Just so we're clear.

No, I didn't win the ball...

Yeah, um the STEELERS were playing Sunday night when I lost the bid. I was checking and checking and then it was almost halftime and the Steelers were on a drive and I was too busy waving my terrible towel to remember about the end of the auction. I missed it by $1 and 3 seconds. VERY depressing. I almost cried.

And then the Steelers LOST and Ben looked like SHIT and I almost really cried. WTF is going on over there????

Anyway, I know you all don't share my passion for the NFL and especially the Steelers, so I'll shut up now. Thank you for humoring me.

The fact still remains that I have to find a bowling ball. And now everything I see is going to be compared to "the one that got away." I refuse to buy some sparkly girly thing. I just can't do it.

I would also like to speak about the latest nuisance in my life. A little something called plantar fasciitis aka severe heel pain after rest...like when you wake up in the morning and put your feet on the floor - ummmm, yeah...you can't walk. I can't bend my left foot. It usually goes away after a hot shower and some time, but today, today it's still around. Most painful thing ever. What does this mean? I don't know. I don't want to go to the doctor. My online google degree says anti-inflammatories (check), stretching (ummm, guess I can do that) and orthotics. Great. It also says that it occurs most frequently in people OVER 40. OVER 40. Awesome. Glad to know my body is breaking down just as badly as I think it is. My shoulder pain is still coming and going (coming more lately than going) but I haven't had time to go to PT. I've been leaving work early for soccer games and camping trips...oy. I hope to pick up again next week. Next week is a good week. Everything ends. Brilliant.

So anyway - I hope I don't have anything like a heel spur...but who knows. Let's look on the bright side. I might get to go shoe shopping.

OMG - look what I found

So, I've decided that it's time to get my own bowling ball. Not because I'm good - I'm not - last night 122, 111, 125 - poo. The balls looked good going down but in the end...nuthin. The reasoning is simple - and I'm going to be very candid here, I have boy hands-sausage fingers. Some girls have cute little dainty hands with slender fingers. Me, not so much. One girl on my team offered to let me use her ball one night. Ummmmm, yeah...miss pencil fingers? I can't even get my pinky in that hole up to the 1st knuckle...let's not even talk about my thumb that swells through the night as I bowl. I think I have the strangest span, too. My fingers are fat but my span is small. I'm lucky if I can palm an orange. To find a house ball that doesn't weigh a zillion pounds with big finger holes and a small span? Good friggin' luck.

I think I'm going shopping this weekend. Goody. Originally I was thinking very girl-like - that I wanted my ball to match my kick-ass retro shoes. But then I found this...
Isn't she a beauty?? I love it. And I could use one of my terrible towels to wipe her off when I bowl. It's perfect. It's better than perfect. It's the perfectest. It was $96.95 on some website, but I found it on ebay and put in a bid. If I win I'll get it for half that even with the shipping. I LOVE ebay.

I think the only way I'm not going to get this ball is if I find a Diet Coke ball. Google can't seem to find me one. They have Coke balls, but no DC. Bummer. Maybe a dirty martini ball? HA! A ball that looks like an olive? Even better. No way I'm getting some sparkling girly thing. Just ain't happening.

But I still secretly wish I could get one to match my shoes.

Oh yes it's bowling night....

I've come to LOVE my bowling night. Love it like I would marry it. I've had a crappy few weeks at work, but every Thursday I get to put on my dancing shoes, toss back a couple of beers and chase those little white pins. Actually, it's not much of a chase. They just stand there, looking all innocent and occasionally, I knock them down. Not all at once, mind you, because I enjoy the torture of them not knowing who's going next. It's part of the game.

Actually it just means I'm a sucky bowler. But the drama sounds more fun. I've been raising my average each and every time I go. That's fun! And right now I'm the leading bowler on my team. That's bad! Because if I'm the best we've got, that's not saying much! But more importantly, we have fun...and I walk in and say "I've had a shit week, give me a beer and an attitude adjustment!" and you know what? They do. I highly recommend bowling night.

It's an American institution, like apple pie or bald eagles. Okay, maybe I exaggerate.

Gunter glieben glauchen globen

Alright
I got somethin to say
Yeah it's better to burn out
Than to fade away....

Ah...Def Leppard calling out to me in my moment of need. Burning out, people. Burning.out. I told my girlfriend Michelle that I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. It's coming. Football is almost over. Soccer ends soon after that. Do you see the light? (read like James Brown in the Blues Brothers!) My house is a disaster. My car is a mess. My calendar looks like a mack truck hit it. But there is a light. And do you know what words of wisdom sweet Michelle gave me? That the light is usually just the light from another tunnel. And you know what? She's right. I want to throw up.

Julie told me I'm too busy. What's new? Julie told me to make a list of everything we're involved in, that it would be a good exercise for me. I'm not sure what that meant.
So here goes...
Alex: Soccer September/October; music lessons all year round 1 night per week.
Owen: Football August, September, October; Baseball May, June; Scouts all year round
Me: Bowling every Thursday - 33 weeks; Church board, 9 meetings per year; school board meetings 1st & 3rd Monday when I can attend; Scouts - 1 pack meeting per month, 1 roundtable meeting per month (sort of);
Family: church on Sunday when we can, usually every other Sunday when Alex is in town; family obligations to birthday parties/holidays
Kevin: Football coach, baseball coach, cubmaster; random obligations to golf outings/fishing trips for work

Is that all of it? Is there stuff I'm forgetting?

The problem really isn't that we're involved. The problem is that I live in Lake Village, I work in Merrillville, I have one child in school in Crown Point with music lessons in Demotte, I have one son in school in Roselawn with football in Morocco; my board meetings are in Morocco and Rensselaer, my rountable meetings are in Wolcott and most scouting events are in Lafayette; my husband works in Highland and sometimes Burr Ridge, Illinois. I have one car, two hands and only so many hours in a day. The problem isn't how involved I am. The problem, dear friends, is that I live in the void of the universe. Just to go to the doctor, dentist, eye doctor...normal things...even if my kids weren't involved in a single fucking thing sucks the life out of me in driving.

Move, you say? Thought of that. Many times. But really, where am I going to work that's convenient and make money? Julie's going through hell right now just trying to get Hayden picked up from daycare and keep both of them working and Hayden has ZERO extracurricular activities.

Anyway, I'm burning out. But what I realize, too is that I've never been this busy with my kids AND this stressed out at work. Work is usually pretty consistent. And when it's bad, there's someone else to share the stress with, brainstorm with, get through things with. I lost that person. It's not that I'm not smart, or don't know my job, or can't do it. I am. I know. I can. But after 5 years of being on a team. 5 years of having that other person, even when they look at you and say "I don't know what to tell you ma'am." And then the lightbulb goes off and you figure out how to fix it. I didn't realize how much I needed that until these last 30 days.

30 days in the hole.

Humble friggin' pie.
Am I burned out of my job? Or do I just need to wait 30 days and re-evaluate? I have dreams of cooking or teaching or something, anything other than this. But is this really so bad? Or am I just in the hole? What are your dreams? What do you want to do when you grow up?

The proverbial cookie jar...

I don't usually talk about current events much in my blog. Everything is so fucked up I don't even know where to begin.

So let's start with Foley - who got his hands caught in the cookie jar. Emailing and instant messaging pages, Mr. Foley? Are you serious? Who is this stupid? He might as well have showed up at one of the "sting" houses set up by Dateline or 20/20 or whoever is running those houses catching the pervs. And if the Republicans truly did know about this last fall, when it was happening and they sat on it...how stupid are they? We found out about Monica, kids, we were going to find out about this. Now a bunch of them look bad instead of one of them looking bad. Why are you covering for a perv soliciting underage youth?? How do you justify that in your political agenda? I just.don't.get.it. I fell asleep during the Colbert Report last night. Damn it! I bet it was good. I must start recording that.

3 school shootings in the past week is it? Or two weeks? And now Bush wants to have a conference on school violence. Really? A new war on terror in the schools? I'd like to see Bush up against the typical high school girl. He's better off in Iraq. I watched the Primetime special on mean teens or whatever it was. It's a whole new ball game. The IM's, the text messages, leading people on to think they're your friend and then slamming them down. I can remember when 3-way calling got big and some people would have a 3rd person listening on the line and try and get the other person to talk about them. It was cruel then, it's cruel now. Now kids have pills and guns and websites helping them kill themselves or other people. They have broken homes (and by broken homes I don't necessarily mean divorced, I mean their homes are BROKEN, not working, not functioning) and parents who are working too hard or playing too hard and not paying enough attention to them to figure out that they're in trouble. What in the fuck is going on? It's so scary....so scary to be the parent of a school age child right now. You raise them right, you give them goals and then they get taken out by some kid at school they had nothing to do with? Or they decide to go to Washington and better their resume and be a page and get sexually harassed by government officials who have been so closeted their whole lives because the religious right can't come to grips with the fact that we have separation of church and state in this country.

I tell my kids I love them every morning before I leave/drop them off. Every.morning. Even the 13-year-old who sometimes, even now, still says it back. Even when we're in front of the school, even though he sometimes sounds like he doesn't mean it. I think we all realize I'm an involved parent. Kevin and I both are. We only get one shot at this ... only one shot at them being 13 and 9. One shot at childhood, adolescence and their formative teen years. I have probably irrevocably fucked them up, but I keep getting back on that horse. Where is everyone else? Why do I feel like one of a handful of parents who are even still in the race? Why are you letting your child wear that to school? Why are you giving your 9-year-old a cell phone? WHO in the fuck do they have to call??? What have you done to your 13-year-old to make them so hateful that they have to needle someone else literally to death? And what the fuck is Dubya going to do to change that??

/end of rant.
Thank you for listening. I feel better now.

Woo-hoo - we're on the board!

Finally...FINALLY. Owen's team scored touchdowns in yesterday's game. I cried. I did. I couldn't help myself. I wasn't the only one. Two touchdowns, one completed pass, a quarterback sack and a great tackle to end a drive on 4th down. Owen had great game personally, and the team was a completely different team than the one that's been playing all season. We still lost, but the game was awesome.

So what does my boy remember? He threw an interception that scored a touchdown. Ummmm, Owen, didn't Hasselback do that same thing last night? And he gets paid a lot of money NOT to do that.

Oh boy.

We camped - it was fun...a little rainy on Friday night, but the Braveman tent that we borrowed totally rocked! Thanks Jul! Saturday was GORGEOUS. I got some great pictures I'll be posting to the kodak gallery soon.

What did you do to enjoy the weather this weekend? How 'bout them Colts? How 'bout them Bears? How 'bout them Irish?