that it is hellishly hot and miserable here! I am so irritable and cranky and sick of the heat that I can't even find words.
The second week of school went off OK. I guess. My daughter (her third week) ended up coming home sick today. She was running a low grade temp this morning, tried to convince her to stay home, but no...so she called me at lunch and was ready to come home. She has been in bed...literally, since she got home. I have taken her water and checked on her, but mostly she has been laying in bed feeling miserable. That's what we get for living in the middle of the Almond capitol of the world! We have almond orchards surrounding our house, so the clouds of dust (it's harvest time) are crazy. So, she developed a bit of a sinus infection, I believe. Then, there's C who got dehydrated and was trying to get a UTI. Love the little cuties. They stress me to the moon, though.
I have been asked to teach a crochet class to the junior high students at our school. Which I readily agreed to, but, I didn't know I would have to speak at a rally in front of ALL of the middle schoolers. AAAAGH! The only thing I hate more than climbing really high poles and jumping off, is talking in front of pretty much any group bigger than 10 to 15 people (preferrably sitting at a table with coffee or an adult beverage). It pretty much bit the big one. But, I survived and I know at least one person will sign up for my class (thank you, Hannah).
At the moment I am sweltering and wishing for spring or fall or any weather than doesn't involve triple digit temperatures. I took the kids to La Comida for dinner, gotta love any place you can feed 3 teenagers, a 7 year old and an adult for $25. We have made it a weekly institution, I just don't always feel like cooking, go figure, it's only like 185 million degrees outside, with like an absurd amount of humidity going on, and we have a swamp cooler, so...I'm whining. Did I mention that I'm irritable and cranky too? To add insult to injury, I will be 36 soon, ugh. On that note...did I mention that I'm irritable and cranky?
Friday, August 31, 2007
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Random
I took my boys up to the ropes course that I accomplished. I was hoping to impress them with the bravery I exhibited. My 10 year old was completely unimpressed. He thought it would be fun and that it wasn't that high. Humph. My 7 year old was just ready to leave because there were "too many sticks", and the 13 year old just had to go to the bathroom. That is my life.
I am totally excited about showing the kids something, and my daughter totally blows me off, she needed to wash her hair or something, and the boys just don't follow through with my dreamy expectations. Such is life. They were much more impressed with the Oreo McFlurrys and the stop at a park. All in all, I did have a nice day with my boys.
I went on a date with my two other boys, I know scandalous, to the races. I love to spend time with them, especially now when they aren't completely embarrassed to be seen with me. They really take care of me.
My daughter wants to take me to A Taste of Chico for my birthday. I think it's sweet, but I am wondering what friends are going to be tagging along. I suggested the Chico State Rock Climbing wall. I think I'm addicted to that darn harness thing from the ropes course.
Actually, I am so amazed at what I was able to push myself to do, even now two and a half weeks later. I can't say I enjoyed the fear. Our music teacher at school says, "Which one is my left?" just about every time he sees me. I must explain...when I was climbing on the dinner plate on top of a telephone pole, the instructor guy told me to lift my left foot. I was so incredibly freaked out that I couldn't remember my left from my right. So I yelled out, "Which one is my left?" I know, I kind of made myself sound brave in my last post, that must have been the adrenaline...really I was terrified and couldn't remember which was my right or left. I also said bad words a few times, shh.
I must say that not only do I feel stronger from this experience, but I feel closer to my fellow coworkers who attempted the stunts and cheered us on. I think I'm going to have to stop talking about it though.
Well, the boys have homework and I must resume my mommy duties.
I am totally excited about showing the kids something, and my daughter totally blows me off, she needed to wash her hair or something, and the boys just don't follow through with my dreamy expectations. Such is life. They were much more impressed with the Oreo McFlurrys and the stop at a park. All in all, I did have a nice day with my boys.
I went on a date with my two other boys, I know scandalous, to the races. I love to spend time with them, especially now when they aren't completely embarrassed to be seen with me. They really take care of me.
My daughter wants to take me to A Taste of Chico for my birthday. I think it's sweet, but I am wondering what friends are going to be tagging along. I suggested the Chico State Rock Climbing wall. I think I'm addicted to that darn harness thing from the ropes course.
Actually, I am so amazed at what I was able to push myself to do, even now two and a half weeks later. I can't say I enjoyed the fear. Our music teacher at school says, "Which one is my left?" just about every time he sees me. I must explain...when I was climbing on the dinner plate on top of a telephone pole, the instructor guy told me to lift my left foot. I was so incredibly freaked out that I couldn't remember my left from my right. So I yelled out, "Which one is my left?" I know, I kind of made myself sound brave in my last post, that must have been the adrenaline...really I was terrified and couldn't remember which was my right or left. I also said bad words a few times, shh.
I must say that not only do I feel stronger from this experience, but I feel closer to my fellow coworkers who attempted the stunts and cheered us on. I think I'm going to have to stop talking about it though.
Well, the boys have homework and I must resume my mommy duties.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
I am amazing!
I can't believe, still, that I did it!
Today, I attended a ropes course with my co workers. I work for a school, and our principal signed us up for a ropes course for team building. I was way less than thrilled at the prospect of climbing ladders and falling and all that stuff. I went with much trepidation.
I DID IT!!!!! Me, the person who has to constantly overcome fear. The one that always worries more than anyone else about the impossible possibilities. I climbed a tree with another person, stood on a cable leaning forward with my hands on his shoulders and his hands on mine, and we took a step. It was the most horrifying thing I have ever done in my life. I did it though. Then we were billeted down.
The second "station" was we had to climb a pole and stand on a dinner plate sized disc at the top of the pole. I had to turn around, then JUMP off reaching for a trapeze. I DID IT!!!! It was more frightening than anything I could imagine, (up until today and the group jump thing we did).
I truly conquered my fears. I didn't wimp out and not do it, because I was afraid. I cowboyed up, so to speak, and I did it! I still can't believe that I stood on top of a telephone pole with nothing underneath me, my life in my four co workers hands as they billeted me down. I can't even put into words the feelings that are still here, two and a half hours later. I think I need to see the pictures to believe that I really did it. It just feels so surreal. I was able to overcome fear. I won. The fear did not win. I did!
I am AMAZING!
Today, I attended a ropes course with my co workers. I work for a school, and our principal signed us up for a ropes course for team building. I was way less than thrilled at the prospect of climbing ladders and falling and all that stuff. I went with much trepidation.
I DID IT!!!!! Me, the person who has to constantly overcome fear. The one that always worries more than anyone else about the impossible possibilities. I climbed a tree with another person, stood on a cable leaning forward with my hands on his shoulders and his hands on mine, and we took a step. It was the most horrifying thing I have ever done in my life. I did it though. Then we were billeted down.
The second "station" was we had to climb a pole and stand on a dinner plate sized disc at the top of the pole. I had to turn around, then JUMP off reaching for a trapeze. I DID IT!!!! It was more frightening than anything I could imagine, (up until today and the group jump thing we did).
I truly conquered my fears. I didn't wimp out and not do it, because I was afraid. I cowboyed up, so to speak, and I did it! I still can't believe that I stood on top of a telephone pole with nothing underneath me, my life in my four co workers hands as they billeted me down. I can't even put into words the feelings that are still here, two and a half hours later. I think I need to see the pictures to believe that I really did it. It just feels so surreal. I was able to overcome fear. I won. The fear did not win. I did!
I am AMAZING!
Sunday, August 5, 2007
He's 13
Thirteen years ago right now I was looking down into the very red face of my newborn son. I can't believe that thirteen years have passed. I can't believe that he is on the cusp of manhood. I can't believe that it's only been 13 years...
August 4, 1994, I was five days past my due date, and I had an adorable little 19 month old girl. I woke up on the fourth with a ton of things to get done. I needed to clean house and go grocery shopping, I needed to get the laundry done. So much to do.
That evening, as I sat trying to work out in my mind all that I needed to get done I went into a sort of panic. I realized that if I went into labor in the middle of the night, I needed someone to call to come watch my 19 month old baby. My One Tru Love was less than helpful. He got mad at me for panicking and left me. I was having regular yet very far apart contractions, and my instinct was telling me that our baby was coming. In his defense, he was 23 and getting ready to become the father of two.
I couldn't sleep that night in our bed. So, I slept on the couch. I woke up at 3:45 with cramps that wouldn't go away. I timed my cramps, and they were like 3 minutes apart. This was my first labor as my daughter had been delivered by planned C section. I woke up My One Tru Love, and he asked me how far apart my contractions were, I didn't want to freak him out, so I lied. I told him they were about 5 minutes apart. He told me to call his mom, then asked me to make him some coffee, because he wanted to take a shower. I did exactly as I was told, I even brought him two cups of coffee in the shower before his mom got to our house. By this time, I knew that the baby was coming and coming today.
We drove to the hospital, and he thought it would be fun to run all of the red lights on the Esplanade. We got to the hospital and my contractions weren't easing up and were getting closer and closer and closer. I couldn't walk to the Maternity ward, they were too close together.
We got set up in the room and as I laid on the bed I felt an audible pop. My water broke! We had arrived at the hospital at about 4:45 am. I was in hard labor from when my water broke until the wee boy was born at 9:20 am.
At 9 am I felt the urge to push. I was told to wait, then my baby began to decel. His heart rate was going way too low for way too long. My doctor ran in, he started talking really fast and using words like "Stat" which I knew were four letter words. I was scared. My One Tru Love was scared. I had on an oxygen mask and was rolled to my right side, then my left side, then back to my right side, all the while being prodded and poked and told not to push. I was terrified. They finally let me push, and things got worse, he called for the vaccuum extractor, I don't remember or have blocked out all the trauma to my nether regions at this point. All I remember is that my little baby's body was pulled from my body, blue. No reaction to light, no crying, the doctor turned and passed him off to the nurse, and My One Tru Love was pushed behind the bed and not allowed near our new son. Tubes were stuck down his throat and they suctioned stuff out (there was meconium in the water). I started to bleed. They took out the baby and My One Tru Love followed. They kept telling me that I had a beautiful son, and that he was doing much better now, (his first APGAR was 1, second one was 5). I had completely disassociated myself from all that was happening. I got a shot of something to stop the bleeding, the placenta wouldn't detach, and I hadn't seen my baby yet.
Finally, they laid my perfect little boy in my arms. He had all the parts he needed, 10 fingers, 10 toes, a perfect 7 lb, 11 oz, baby boy. He had a really bad bruise on his head from the extraction, but, other than that, he was doing great. He latched on and nursed like a champ. He was amazing.
Thirteen years ago right this moment (8:30pm) my husband's grandma called me to tell me congratulations, her remark when I answered the phone, "I knew E would be too tired from all of the excitement of the new baby so I didn't want to disturb him, so I called you." She was so funny. I was the one who worked so hard to have the baby, but poor E might be tired. Hmm.
T today is a healthy, vibrant, loving boy, who I really can't believe I ever held in my arms and nursed at my breast.
August 4, 1994, I was five days past my due date, and I had an adorable little 19 month old girl. I woke up on the fourth with a ton of things to get done. I needed to clean house and go grocery shopping, I needed to get the laundry done. So much to do.
That evening, as I sat trying to work out in my mind all that I needed to get done I went into a sort of panic. I realized that if I went into labor in the middle of the night, I needed someone to call to come watch my 19 month old baby. My One Tru Love was less than helpful. He got mad at me for panicking and left me. I was having regular yet very far apart contractions, and my instinct was telling me that our baby was coming. In his defense, he was 23 and getting ready to become the father of two.
I couldn't sleep that night in our bed. So, I slept on the couch. I woke up at 3:45 with cramps that wouldn't go away. I timed my cramps, and they were like 3 minutes apart. This was my first labor as my daughter had been delivered by planned C section. I woke up My One Tru Love, and he asked me how far apart my contractions were, I didn't want to freak him out, so I lied. I told him they were about 5 minutes apart. He told me to call his mom, then asked me to make him some coffee, because he wanted to take a shower. I did exactly as I was told, I even brought him two cups of coffee in the shower before his mom got to our house. By this time, I knew that the baby was coming and coming today.
We drove to the hospital, and he thought it would be fun to run all of the red lights on the Esplanade. We got to the hospital and my contractions weren't easing up and were getting closer and closer and closer. I couldn't walk to the Maternity ward, they were too close together.
We got set up in the room and as I laid on the bed I felt an audible pop. My water broke! We had arrived at the hospital at about 4:45 am. I was in hard labor from when my water broke until the wee boy was born at 9:20 am.
At 9 am I felt the urge to push. I was told to wait, then my baby began to decel. His heart rate was going way too low for way too long. My doctor ran in, he started talking really fast and using words like "Stat" which I knew were four letter words. I was scared. My One Tru Love was scared. I had on an oxygen mask and was rolled to my right side, then my left side, then back to my right side, all the while being prodded and poked and told not to push. I was terrified. They finally let me push, and things got worse, he called for the vaccuum extractor, I don't remember or have blocked out all the trauma to my nether regions at this point. All I remember is that my little baby's body was pulled from my body, blue. No reaction to light, no crying, the doctor turned and passed him off to the nurse, and My One Tru Love was pushed behind the bed and not allowed near our new son. Tubes were stuck down his throat and they suctioned stuff out (there was meconium in the water). I started to bleed. They took out the baby and My One Tru Love followed. They kept telling me that I had a beautiful son, and that he was doing much better now, (his first APGAR was 1, second one was 5). I had completely disassociated myself from all that was happening. I got a shot of something to stop the bleeding, the placenta wouldn't detach, and I hadn't seen my baby yet.
Finally, they laid my perfect little boy in my arms. He had all the parts he needed, 10 fingers, 10 toes, a perfect 7 lb, 11 oz, baby boy. He had a really bad bruise on his head from the extraction, but, other than that, he was doing great. He latched on and nursed like a champ. He was amazing.
Thirteen years ago right this moment (8:30pm) my husband's grandma called me to tell me congratulations, her remark when I answered the phone, "I knew E would be too tired from all of the excitement of the new baby so I didn't want to disturb him, so I called you." She was so funny. I was the one who worked so hard to have the baby, but poor E might be tired. Hmm.
T today is a healthy, vibrant, loving boy, who I really can't believe I ever held in my arms and nursed at my breast.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Reality Check
Over the last week or so, I have become a bit lazy. Lazy about spending time with the kids...just stick a movie on and tell them to leave me alone...Wednesday on Cafe Mom in one of the groups I'm in I read a post from the mom of a 17 year old boy. He is a "punk" and according to her can have mouth on him...He had been shot twice and beaten with baseball bats and the butts of the guns used to shoot him. His friend was killed in the attack. He came out with a through and through bullet wound to the chest and a bullet fragment in his lung. A broken femur, elbow, jaw, ribs and skull. He has already endured two surgeries and is looking forward to more. Wow.
Then, today as I was browsing blogs, I came across one, a mom who lost her daughter earlier this week, to drowning. My heart breaks. Then, this morning at church the pastor talked of a friend who had recently lost a 10 year old son to cancer.
Oh, how I take for granted my children. I forget constantly how important they are to me. When life starts to just take over and the frustrations and idiosycracies of each of them surface, you forget. At least I do. I don't want to forget. Life is so precious. So fragile. It's just so easy to forget.
I look at my children, and I am filled with such a powerful feeling of wanting to protect and hold them forever. They just keep getting older and bigger and more independent. I know that is what's supposed to happen, but sometimes I just want to freeze the moment. Freeze the day. Let me remember always the moment and never forget.
My heart breaks for the mothers who have lost their children. It is so wrong for a parent to ever have to bury a child. And this week has reminded me to grasp those moments. To freeze those days in my heart. I can sleep anytime, when my almost 13 year old wants to talk to me it is that moment that is of vital importance. The day will come all too soon when R won't want me to kiss her goodnight, T won't want to be tucked in, C won't fit on my lap, M won't want to hang with me and tell me his crazy imagination stories. I'll be left with memories of my babies. I am choosing to savor those moments. Life is just too short. Especially the moments with my children.
Sentimental me. I'm closing now, I am going to seize the moment that my boys want me to swim with them. I'll let my mascara run, and not care. I'll get my hair wet and not worry about how the chlorine is drying it out. I'll wear my swimsuit and not nitpick about the stretch marks on my thighs or the cellulite. Because, really my boys don't care about that. They care that their mom is swimming with them. Tonight, I will hug their tired little bodies to mine and kiss them each a few extra times as I tuck them into bed. Because, those are the moments...
Then, today as I was browsing blogs, I came across one, a mom who lost her daughter earlier this week, to drowning. My heart breaks. Then, this morning at church the pastor talked of a friend who had recently lost a 10 year old son to cancer.
Oh, how I take for granted my children. I forget constantly how important they are to me. When life starts to just take over and the frustrations and idiosycracies of each of them surface, you forget. At least I do. I don't want to forget. Life is so precious. So fragile. It's just so easy to forget.
I look at my children, and I am filled with such a powerful feeling of wanting to protect and hold them forever. They just keep getting older and bigger and more independent. I know that is what's supposed to happen, but sometimes I just want to freeze the moment. Freeze the day. Let me remember always the moment and never forget.
My heart breaks for the mothers who have lost their children. It is so wrong for a parent to ever have to bury a child. And this week has reminded me to grasp those moments. To freeze those days in my heart. I can sleep anytime, when my almost 13 year old wants to talk to me it is that moment that is of vital importance. The day will come all too soon when R won't want me to kiss her goodnight, T won't want to be tucked in, C won't fit on my lap, M won't want to hang with me and tell me his crazy imagination stories. I'll be left with memories of my babies. I am choosing to savor those moments. Life is just too short. Especially the moments with my children.
Sentimental me. I'm closing now, I am going to seize the moment that my boys want me to swim with them. I'll let my mascara run, and not care. I'll get my hair wet and not worry about how the chlorine is drying it out. I'll wear my swimsuit and not nitpick about the stretch marks on my thighs or the cellulite. Because, really my boys don't care about that. They care that their mom is swimming with them. Tonight, I will hug their tired little bodies to mine and kiss them each a few extra times as I tuck them into bed. Because, those are the moments...
Sunday, July 15, 2007
The Story of Our Lives...
OK. Let me tell you that nothing ever goes as we plan. We planned a lovely family camping trip and were excited beyond measure (My One Tru Love and I anyway) about it. Wednesday I had to host Bunco, so I spent the day cooking and getting ready for that...buying alcohol, you know the basics. I didn't get home until after 11 pm. We decided to sleep in on Thursday and do the shopping first thing when we woke up. No rush...just enjoy the day.
We woke up Thursday morning at around 8. We took our showers and headed out to the store. I decided to take the cell phone I've been using (R's) and leave his at home to charge. We spent a nice time shopping at Walmart, Costco, and Winco. We even went out to coffee...just the two of us. It was nice. Well, I didn't realize that R's cell phone had died while we were shopping. We got home to cries of "Why wouldn't you answer your cell phone?! I think C broke his arm!! Dan called and your tool box is munched!" WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? First, checked C's arm, that was OK. Don't really know what the problem originally was, but the arm was not broken, bruised, bleeding or otherwise needing attention. My One Tru Love called Dan to find out the scoop on his tool box. Sidenote: My One Tru Love is a mechanic. His tools make the money we live on. Therefore his tool box is very important to us. Dan informed him that the dealership was broken into and all of the mechanics toolboxes were broken into and tools were stolen! Not good news before we leave on vacation. My One Tru Love went from 0 to pissed off in nothing flat. He told me to run the last few errands, jumped in the car and tore off towards work (20 minutes away) to investigate the damage. He called me after he got there and told me that he had lost about $5,000 worth of tools, and that his toolbox is destroyed...at least the top 5 drawers. He was going to talk to the service manager to figure out what was happening then he'd be home, but it would take about 2 hours to try to inventory the stolen tools. I packed as best I could, worried beyond belief about this new situation.
We finally got out of town at around 4 pm. We arrived at the campground at around 6 pm, to find out that the trip we thought would cost only $79 was going to cost us $135! Yes, $135 to camp for three nights! Crazy! We paid it...hoping for the best. We found our campesite, not what we were expecting, but we made the best. We went looking for the flush toilets...yeah, there were two flush toilets, by the store, 1 mile from our campsite. So we investigated the shower situation, same situation, except there were four showers. Did I mention that there are around 300+ campsites? The rest of the "facilities" were glorified port-a-potties, you know chemical toilets. Worse than pit toilets in my humble opinion. My exuberance by this point had waned to almost non existent. We spent a nice evening by the campfire, and looked forward to taking the boat out on the lake the following day. Which we did, and enjoyed swimming, fishing, and the kids tubed. It was a nice day, and we all got a little sunburned in spite of the sunscreen. We also got neighbors while we were on the lake, they seemed OK. Boy, were we wrong. At around 8 pm C was exhausted, so I took him over to the tent to go to sleep, and he said "What is that horrible smell?" POT!!!!! Yes. Weed. Hash. Mary Jane. Crazy grass. Whatever you want to call it. He ended up going to sleep at around 9:30. Our partying neighbors didn't call it quits until 3 am!!!!! We decided when we were awakened by their children (Yes, pot and kids....) at 7 am that we were going to go on the lake for a few hours, then break camp and check out early. Get the heck out of there. We were exhausted and thoroughly disgusted! We had a nice morning on the lake, and we broke camp and checked out taking the time to let them know why we were leaving early. I was hoping that our complaint would be met with a little action. Indifference. We left without any satisfaction.
When we got home we decided to have a munchy movie night, and just relaxed. That part was really nice.
Today, My One Tru Love and I went to the dealership to finish inventory of his missing tools. Then, we had to look up part numbers and prices for the insurance company. Tomorrow he'll turn it in, and he was just about right on, so far we are at about $4,500 in stolen tools. Ugh.
Like I said, the story of our lives...you should hear the one about our wedding and honeymoon...now that's a story...
We woke up Thursday morning at around 8. We took our showers and headed out to the store. I decided to take the cell phone I've been using (R's) and leave his at home to charge. We spent a nice time shopping at Walmart, Costco, and Winco. We even went out to coffee...just the two of us. It was nice. Well, I didn't realize that R's cell phone had died while we were shopping. We got home to cries of "Why wouldn't you answer your cell phone?! I think C broke his arm!! Dan called and your tool box is munched!" WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? First, checked C's arm, that was OK. Don't really know what the problem originally was, but the arm was not broken, bruised, bleeding or otherwise needing attention. My One Tru Love called Dan to find out the scoop on his tool box. Sidenote: My One Tru Love is a mechanic. His tools make the money we live on. Therefore his tool box is very important to us. Dan informed him that the dealership was broken into and all of the mechanics toolboxes were broken into and tools were stolen! Not good news before we leave on vacation. My One Tru Love went from 0 to pissed off in nothing flat. He told me to run the last few errands, jumped in the car and tore off towards work (20 minutes away) to investigate the damage. He called me after he got there and told me that he had lost about $5,000 worth of tools, and that his toolbox is destroyed...at least the top 5 drawers. He was going to talk to the service manager to figure out what was happening then he'd be home, but it would take about 2 hours to try to inventory the stolen tools. I packed as best I could, worried beyond belief about this new situation.
We finally got out of town at around 4 pm. We arrived at the campground at around 6 pm, to find out that the trip we thought would cost only $79 was going to cost us $135! Yes, $135 to camp for three nights! Crazy! We paid it...hoping for the best. We found our campesite, not what we were expecting, but we made the best. We went looking for the flush toilets...yeah, there were two flush toilets, by the store, 1 mile from our campsite. So we investigated the shower situation, same situation, except there were four showers. Did I mention that there are around 300+ campsites? The rest of the "facilities" were glorified port-a-potties, you know chemical toilets. Worse than pit toilets in my humble opinion. My exuberance by this point had waned to almost non existent. We spent a nice evening by the campfire, and looked forward to taking the boat out on the lake the following day. Which we did, and enjoyed swimming, fishing, and the kids tubed. It was a nice day, and we all got a little sunburned in spite of the sunscreen. We also got neighbors while we were on the lake, they seemed OK. Boy, were we wrong. At around 8 pm C was exhausted, so I took him over to the tent to go to sleep, and he said "What is that horrible smell?" POT!!!!! Yes. Weed. Hash. Mary Jane. Crazy grass. Whatever you want to call it. He ended up going to sleep at around 9:30. Our partying neighbors didn't call it quits until 3 am!!!!! We decided when we were awakened by their children (Yes, pot and kids....) at 7 am that we were going to go on the lake for a few hours, then break camp and check out early. Get the heck out of there. We were exhausted and thoroughly disgusted! We had a nice morning on the lake, and we broke camp and checked out taking the time to let them know why we were leaving early. I was hoping that our complaint would be met with a little action. Indifference. We left without any satisfaction.
When we got home we decided to have a munchy movie night, and just relaxed. That part was really nice.
Today, My One Tru Love and I went to the dealership to finish inventory of his missing tools. Then, we had to look up part numbers and prices for the insurance company. Tomorrow he'll turn it in, and he was just about right on, so far we are at about $4,500 in stolen tools. Ugh.
Like I said, the story of our lives...you should hear the one about our wedding and honeymoon...now that's a story...
Saturday, July 7, 2007
"I HATE family camping..."
This is the note I woke to this morning. From my lovely daughter. We are planning a relaxing four day camping trip at Collins Lake. We are taking the boat and hanging out at the swimming beach, fishing, swimming, being a family of 6. We decided that our additional "adopted" children are not invited to this trip, as it is our FAMILY camping trip. Lovely R wants her best friend to come, and has commenced strategies to try to break us down. At 10 pm she came into our room to essentially ask (for the 3rd time) if A could come with us. We both said no, and she started to tell us how she wasn't going then, and that we were being mean because she would be bored to death. Oh, like I never said that when I was 14. Anyway, she continued to whine and complain, and we sent her out. Then, stupid stupid stupid us, we started to discuss whether we were right in making this a family trip. Because of her darn whining.
I expect that the next few days will be hell because she will beg, plead and whine every chance she gets. Her note said, "I HATE family camping. I would rather go to Weed for Carnivalli or have A come with us." A will be with her grandparents in Weed if she can't come with us. So, I guess she will be in Weed. And R is not going to Carnivalli in Weed, because she will be family camping, which she hates.
As for the family camping trip, I am looking forward to it. I enjoy camping, when there are flush toilets. The campground we are going to is a little pricey, but, I feel like it's worth it. Because of the private lake we will have full access to. We are planning a day on the lake on the boat. The other full day we will spend just lounging around at the beach, and relaxing. The other two days we will be there will be arrival and departure days, those are never relaxing. At any rate, I am looking forward to it, as are the boys and My One Tru Love. I am planning on making a trip to the local used book store to stock up on some books for R and me, and then I will be making a trip to the comic book store for the boys. I really want to just be with the family for a few days. R is so rarely around these days, she's always off at a friend's house, or the mall, or the movies, or Farmer's Market. Or, she has a friend over and is holed up in her room. We have so little time left with the 6 of us all together. I am holding fast to this decision, but, I can see that it will not be without repercussions. Oh, well, I will live, and maybe she actually will have a good time.
I expect that the next few days will be hell because she will beg, plead and whine every chance she gets. Her note said, "I HATE family camping. I would rather go to Weed for Carnivalli or have A come with us." A will be with her grandparents in Weed if she can't come with us. So, I guess she will be in Weed. And R is not going to Carnivalli in Weed, because she will be family camping, which she hates.
As for the family camping trip, I am looking forward to it. I enjoy camping, when there are flush toilets. The campground we are going to is a little pricey, but, I feel like it's worth it. Because of the private lake we will have full access to. We are planning a day on the lake on the boat. The other full day we will spend just lounging around at the beach, and relaxing. The other two days we will be there will be arrival and departure days, those are never relaxing. At any rate, I am looking forward to it, as are the boys and My One Tru Love. I am planning on making a trip to the local used book store to stock up on some books for R and me, and then I will be making a trip to the comic book store for the boys. I really want to just be with the family for a few days. R is so rarely around these days, she's always off at a friend's house, or the mall, or the movies, or Farmer's Market. Or, she has a friend over and is holed up in her room. We have so little time left with the 6 of us all together. I am holding fast to this decision, but, I can see that it will not be without repercussions. Oh, well, I will live, and maybe she actually will have a good time.
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