It Never Hurts to Ask

First, a little dose of humility:
Last Thursday, Pressly surprised me out of the blue with an iPhone 3G. I was surprised and more than a little touched. I was also quite enamored with my new phone. I found myself fondling it repeatedly on Friday any time I had a break from wrangling a class full of 5 year olds.

Friday night while I was at the football game to watch my youngest sister twirl, I was excited to show everyone some photos I had snapped with it. After showing it off a little, I put it back into my pocket and turned my head. About that time, Jaelan exclaimed, "Oh no!" and I looked just in time to see my phone fall. Jordan and her boyfriend graciously retrieved it for me. I was worried someone else would snatch it up before we could get to it. What I discovered next never even occured to me. The screen was shattered! Heartsick, I immediately called Pressly to tell him. I wanted to cry, but I was so upset and in the midst of many, many people I just couldn't.

I was just sick. Pressly suggested I go to the Apple store on Saturday and see if they would do anything at all. After hustling Aaron into the car (one badly stubbed toe and a walleyed fit later -- his toe, both of us may have been involved in the fit), I realized we were too late to make the appointment I had made with the Apple Geniuses. I decided we'd go ahead to the store and see if they could work me in, which they did! To my dismay, the only thing they would offer me was a replacement phone at the "promotional price" of $299. I calmly explained that I was not buying another phone for $299 and asked if there was anything else at all they could do. After going through the ranks, I ended up with the same answer. I really hoped they would offer to replace the screen for a reasonable price since, in my opinion, the fall should not have resulted in so much damage.

Still, the humility. I should not have taken such pride in a material possession.

I called Pressly to tell him the news and headed toward home. He had done some research and found a replacement screen for around $70 that he could replace himself.

It Never Hurts to Ask
This is a phrase my mom used to tell me all the time, but I've always had a problem practicing it. I have always felt like I am imposing if I ask for something outside of the norm or special consideration.

Once home from my fruitless trip the the Apple store, I posted my sad story on a message board for a group of friends who have been posting together on the internet for 10 years or so. One of my very wise virtual friends suggested I email Steve Jobs directly and tell him the story. She even provided an email address. I figured I didn't have anything to lose at that point, so Sunday night I sent an email to the address. It was pleasant and simply laid out the facts. Later that night, DH mentioned that he needed to order the screen and I half-jokingly told him not to bother because I had sent an email to Steve Jobs. He laughed at me and proceeded to order the screen.

By noon on Monday, I got a call from the general manager at the Apple store at NorthPark. She told me they were very sorry about my experience and that they want to replace my phone with a brand new one at no cost!! She then apologized that I'd need to come back to the store to facilitate the replacement. Hello? I'll spend some time and a little gasoline for that!

I hope I didn't come off as unappreciative on the phone because I think my reaction was a little flat. I was honestly in total shock and didn't know how to respond. That's not at all what I had in mind when I wrote in my email, "Is there anything Apple is willing to do for us?"

And since I closed my letter by telling Mr. Jobs that I would love to be able to tell friends and family how well Apple treated us when a freak accident caused unreasonable damage to my BRAND NEW phone (which incidentally, was our first Apple purchase ever):

APPLE ROCKS!!!!

soooo Sick

I'll be MIA for a while longer because I am SICK. This is what I get for bragging to someone recently that I have never had a flu shot and never get the flu. Don't think it's the flu, but I'm not a good sickie. Oh, and spending 7 hours a day with kindergarteners probably doesn't help. Do you realize that those little buggers are, well, booger factories? Ew. I have a funny story about subbing Kindergarten last Friday that I'll maybe write about when I feel better.


TTFN

I Spy

I see you, there, in that minivan. Yes, you. I saw you buying that 6-pack of chilled Natural Light at 7:15 this morning, too. Don't fool yourself - that Trident you bought won't erase the stench that was already on you... Stiffler's mom, you're going to have to change your wardrobe before you become a teacher. You're 40 and pretty, but your daughters must be embarrassed when you show up looking like that at Open House... Aspiring poet, you are not as fabulous as you think. You really should come to class, and quit prowling around Facebook when you are here because if you get busted, you'll screw it up for all of us who use our laptops for legitimate reasons... Trip-trop, trip-trop, who's that on my bridge? It is WAY too early in the day for your feet to be hurting that much. Maybe your too-cute boots weren't the best choice for traipsing all over campus today?...

Redemption!

Got my second paper back from my Writing and Literary Analysis class today.

My professor spent the entire class reading examples of people's papers and showing examples of secondary sources and credentials. He put up my paper to exemplify what I think is gross overstatement of the paper's topic (it is, however, how he wants us to write, so it was a good example). He also showed one of my source credentials and a copy of a Peanuts comic strip I included to clarify an allusion that one of my secondary sources made.

It was quite enlightening to see my paper displayed on that huge screen at the front of class because there were several typos (which he does not count off for!) Given the number of times that I edited and re-printed that paper, I thought it was perfect. Oops.

The last time he returned papers, I was excitedly confident that my writing was so good it would exempt me from any further assignments. Seriously - I half expected him to write "You have nothing more to learn! A++ for the class." (Narcissistic much?) This time, I sat in anguish waiting to see what the grade was. I kept running through my mind the things he said people didn't get right, and trying to remember what I had done on my paper. And remembering that we have only 3 or 4 grades for the whole semester and if I didn't make an A on this one, I could probably forget making an A in the class.

Anyway, in his rambling, I also learned that if you quote the Bible, he doesn't want it written as an actual quote, and he says the Bible doesn't belong on the Works Cited page, even though MLA standards say it does belong.

He said there were lots of people whose grades suffered because they still aren't following his prescribed formula. *Whew,* am I glad I caught on quickly!*

Last Page Comments: Good Job! A

*yay*

My First Substitute Assignment

Sooo.... I was really excited to get on the sub list in our school district. Everyone I've talked to says it's really tough to get a job in KISD, and I believe it, given the number of applications I've submitted over the last year+ for different positions in the district with absolutely no response. I've been told that they really like to hire off the sub list, and if I have a good track record once I graduate, I'll be more likely to get a teaching job in the district.

Last Friday was my first sub assignment. Aaron's friend's mom is the secretary at the Early Childhood Center (Pre-K and Kindergarten) and is in charge of calling subs. I asked her to call me anytime and she called right away! I subbed for the art teacher, and thought it would be a really fun day, if a little stressful because it was my first ever sub assignment. I was secretly relieved that my first experience would be with the little ones instead of the High School or Jr. High.

Oh my, what an education *I* got!

I learned:

-Never, ever, under any circumstances wear a distracting or otherwise interesting shirt when subbing with the under-6 set. I wore a scoop neck 3/4 sleeve shirt that was printed with a cityscape and accented with sequins and beads. D-I-S-T-R-A-C-T-I-O-N!

-It's not a good idea to pause the movie to try to get the kiddos to calm down when they are being too noisy. Apparently, it's a sign for them to get up, play with one another's hair, dance, sing, spin around, etc.

-Late afternoon is a time when various kiddos may or may not need to be medicated or re-medicated, even though their pediatrician may not necessarily think so. Or maybe they need to have had less sugar at lunch. Or a nap. If you try to make a special consideration for one of these kids, to keep them from disrupting the class, the other kids will not appreciate being "left out."

-A LOT of what I've learned in school this semester sounds really fantastic, but just does not work in the real-world. Seriously. Too bad we don't live in an ideal society with ideally behaved kids and ideal situations, because a lot of the stuff my education profs have said really made sense.

-Sometimes you have to raise your voice to get Kindergarteners to line up in a straight line with their hands behind their backs and a bubble in their mouths.

Fun, eh?

Seriously, I did enjoy the day and am looking forward (with maybe a teensy bit of trepidation) to subbing at the High School on Wednesday.

:D

Hey Mom, if you were...

I picked Aaron up from tutoring this afternoon, as I do every Tuesday and Thursday. He was in a pretty good mood. Most days this isn't the case because he *HATES* to go to tutoring. He doesn't really need the extra help and would much rather he were allowed to run about the school like a wild Indian instead of doing homework and reading. But it's a great solution for our Tuesday/Thursday after-school care needs -- At $5 per day, it beats the heck outta $65/week for him to go to daycare for those two days.

He was particularly bubbly and chatty, telling me about the make-believe game of Kirby baseball he and two friends made up and played at recess.


Aaron was really proud of his contribution to the game: He decided that he would have "infinite poison balls," his friend Chaz would have "infinite tornado balls" and his friend Brandon would have "infinite icicle balls." Now before you start giggling uncontrollably, there is no anatomical reference here. These are like baseballs, except they pack quite a (makebelieve) wallop and apparently the goal of THIS (fantasy) game is to pelt your opponents with your special (pretend) power balls in order to put them out of commission, which is admittedly nothing like the actual game of Baseball. This, my friends, is the sort of thing you get when three very intelligent 3rd grade boys get together to make up games on the playground.

Aaron has always had a very VERY active imagination and I'll confess that he has been known to exasperate me. A lot. Because he wants everyone to be as excited and involved in his fantasy as he is, and some days I just don't.have.the.energy.

So while we drove along, he chattered on and I nodded my head and interjected the occasional "Oh really?" or "Wow!" hoping that I seemed interested. We were almost home and he had been busily chatting about this mindless game for quite some time (7 minutes, 13 seconds) when he turned to me and said, "Hey Mom?" And I thought "enough already!!", but sweetly said, "Yes?"

" -- if you were a millipede, would you have some sort of mechanism to tell you when a trap door spider was nearby?"

Well, I should hope so! But more importantly, if I were a millipede, I would be able to justify more shoes.

Money Makes the Monkey Dance

A few weeks ago, I had my first assignment due in my literary analysis & writing class. Since English and grammar are sort of my thing, I was really excited about the paper. I was lucky enough to have Sally Awalt as my English/Language Arts teacher in high school, not once but twice. She taught freshman English the year I entered high school, then moved to senior English the year I was a senior. She really pushed us on composition and literary analysis and it's something I enjoyed and did really well at. In the college classes I've taken before, I've honed my writing skills and gotten excellent feedback from professors. If there's one thing I know how to do, it's write an essay!

So our first assignment in ENGL 3308 was to analyze protest poetry written by feminists in the 1960's. I enjoyed the assignment, even though I don't really identify with the ideas in many of the poems we read. I threw myself into writing the paper and had it ready well before the due date. I even had it proofread by a friend who is a writer by trade. She had a few suggestions, but said the paper was great. I was excited to turn the paper in, and really amped the day we got the papers back. I couldn't wait to see all the accolades and compliments he was sure to have written! I couldn't wait to see the affirmation of my mad writing skillz and see all the ways in which I'd impressed my professor.

The day he returned our papers, the professor said there were 9 A's in the class. He said, "They don't call me Dr. A for nothing!" In a class of 23, with 9 A's, I was feeling very confident. For the next hour, he stood at the front talking about good things people had done, things that needed improvement, etc. He read excerpts from some peoples' papers as examples. At the end of the class he returned our papers and I anxiously flipped through, noticed a few corrections he made and finally got to the final page where he had written:

"Develop your allusion more thoroughly. Very readable writing style." B+

WHAT!?!?!

I was really disappointed, to say the least. After getting over my initial reaction, I could see the things that kept me from making an A. It didn't matter that my paper was really well written because I didn't follow the formula he gave us. I thought I had to just make an allusion, not develop it. I thought the formula he had prescribed was a suggestion, but realized he meant for us to follow it exactly. I thought I could make statements based on general historical knowledge without prefacing it with "I think" or "It is my understanding" or "I believe." He dinged me for not citing sources for statements like "In the late 18th century blacks in America were regarded as being unintelligent and better suited to physical labor." So instead, I should have written "As I understand American history...." Whatev.

It's a very boring way of writing, not at all what I'd expect to do in an upper level university course, but as Pressly says, "money makes the monkey dance" so the paper I turned in yesterday was tedious to write, I found it boring in nature and there were several phrases that suffered from chronic overuse, but I'll be damned if he's going to penalize me for writing well this time! I even had him edit my rough draft on our prescribed "writing day" where we are excused from class to write or can come to class to get his input.

A Little Humor

One of the guys I used to work with sent me this in an email (thanks, Scott!) and I thought it was pretty funny, so I figured I'd share it. I suppose we have been able to remain optimistic since we know the markets are cyclical and we are young enough to just ride it out.

New Market Terms

BULL MARKET - A random market movement causing an investor to mistake himself for a financial genius.

BEAR MARKET - A 6 to 18 month period when the kids get no allowance, the wife gets no jewelry, and the husband gets no sex.

P/E RATIO - The percentage of investors wetting their pants as the market keeps crashing.

BROKER - What my broker has made me.

STANDARD & POOR - Your life in a nutshell.

CEO - chief embezzlement officer.

CFO - corporate fraud officer.

STOCK ANALYST - Idiot who just downgraded your stock.

STOCK SPLIT -- When your ex-wife and her lawyer split your assets equally between themselves.

MARKET CORRECTION - The day after you buy stocks.

CASH FLOW - The movement your money makes as it disappears down the toilet.

INSTITUTIONAL INVESTOR - Past year investor who's now locked up in a nuthouse.

MOMENTUM INVESTING - The fine art of buying high and selling low.

VALUE INVESTING - The art of buying low and selling lower.

'BUY, BUY' - A flight attendant making market recommendations as you step off the plane.

FINANCIAL PLANNER - A guy who actually remembers his wallet when he runs to the 7-11 for toilet paper and cigarettes.

CALL OPTION - Something people used to do with a telephone in ancient times before e-mail.

PROFIT - Religious guy who talks to God.

Random.

Old Dog, New Trick

Our dog Chelsae, who is 14 years old, has learned that if she scratches at the door I'll get up. She's been house trained as long as we've had her (about 12 years) and all that time, scratching the door = "I need to go out." It's taken ME a few weeks to realize that she has a new trick. Apparently she's not the only one around here who is getting older! I thought maybe she was just getting fickle in her old age. It all became clear the other day when she scratched, I got up and went to the door and instead of just backing away like she had done several times before, she walked into the kitchen started doing the Feed Me dance. Her bowl was empty. She gets a little panicky when her bowl is empty and more than just a little panicky when she sees us reaching all the way to the bottom of the dog food bag to fill her bowl.

Note: Feed Me dance = Chelsae sits up on her haunches waving both front paws at the human for whom she is dancing, then she jumps in a full circle, bounces a little, stands up on her haunches and starts all over again. If you don't respond fairly quickly, she adds sound effects, indicating that the situation is dire. It is important to note that she doesn't usually want to eat when she does the dance, nor is she hungry; she just needs the security of having kibble in her bowl.





Flying High

Pressly has been learning to fly his new model airplane and Aaron is taking quite an interest in it. He has his own RC helicopter that he's been flying while Pressly flies his plane.

I was focusing on his face and snapped this shot about a millisecond before the helicopter crashed into my camera. I didn't even see it coming, so the perspective here is accidental but pretty cool. We both got a good giggle out of the crash.


Notice: Shirt and shoes are optional, apparently.































I love this one!


This one was way off in the distance and the lighting was really bad Aaron's expression is priceless.

Yes, Yes... I KNOW

I am seriously delinquent in my blogging. (sorry, Jess!)

Obviously a lot has happened since my last post. Aaron started 3rd grade and seems to be doing really well! He's in a challenging class and involved in some enrichment programs that he loves.

I've also gone back to school to finish my teaching degree! I'm so excited. The semester is about 1/2 over and I am just so happy to be chasing this dream.

I'm still making jewelry, but right now I'm mostly doing custom work. I've done a couple of wedding orders and a few other things and am contemplating selling some of my stash because I really don't need all the stuff I've amassed. The tools will never go, though. I'm a total tool junkie. ;)

Aaron's first 3rd grade report card came home with him yesterday. His grades were great, and we're most proud of his "E" (for excellent) in conduct. More interesting, I think, is what's on the outside of the envelope. I was really tempted to send a snarky note back with the signed envelope, but since I hope to be employed at his school district in the not-too-far future, I decided that wasn't the best idea.

Do you see what I see?

Rudolph the red nosed...Reindeer?

Apparently Aaron is working on a new installation for the 1001 Ways to Sink a Sub book. They had a substitute Tuesday, and when I picked him up from school, I found that he had adorned himself and his good friend Brandon in Rudolph disguises.

He was so disappointed when I recognized him!

What a cutie patootie! He just LOVES Christmas and is SO excited about seeing what Santa will bring him this year.

We're also trying to teach him about giving at Christmas, and have had the opportunity to let him make donations to a few different causes. He seems to be really enjoying that too, which is neat.

I've made some decisions (well, sort of).

Friday I got a call back from an interview I had the Friday prior. They offered me the job. I had basically already decided it wasn't a great fit, but asked for the weekend to discuss it with Pressly and think about it. I tried to get excited about it, but I just could not. A big part of my wanting to get a job is so I can meet people and get to know the community better. This job is in a town 20 minutes away, so that also was working against it. I tried calculating the weekly/monthly income to help me get excited, but it just didn't work. I kept thinking that I could make a months' pay in a good jewelry show over two days.

I discussed it with Pressly who basically supports whatever I want to do. He agrees that if I'm miserable at home I should get out and do something. He also asked that if I turn down that job that I don't despair over what to do with myself while I continue to look. I promised I wouldn't and decided to follow my gut on this one. I called them back on Monday and declined the offer.

I also got my magazine submissions completed and mailed them today via Priority Mail so I will make the deadline!

For now I'm going to work on getting all of my current jewelry loaded onto my website, and I'm going to put some stuff out on a few upscale selling sites, including Ruby Lane and Etsy. Not having a lot of history on those sites, I may not see a ton of action this holiday season, but I might get some more exposure and sell a thing or two since I'm not doing any more shows right now. I've neglected my website horribly over the past year, so its no wonder I don't get any sales from it.

I also have applications in for a few jobs here in town. One is for an inclusion aide with the school district, which I think would be extremely rewarding and the schedule would match Aaron's. The other is for an executive assistant for a CEO of our electric coop, and the requirements match my qualifications perfectly.

So I'll not stress about it. Instead, I'll enjoy reading to Aaron's class and going on their field trip. I'll enjoy photographing and describing my jewelry and adding it to the various websites. And I'll enjoy the holidays this year, not stressing about upcoming shows.

EEK! *Happy Dance* and maybe an answer to some prayers...

"Thank you so much for sharing your talent and creativity with us!"

That was the closing line in an email I received today. A few weeks ago, I made a last minute decision to submit a few pieces to a magazine, and they emailed today to let me know they have accepted several of my submissions! I'm totally floored. Really. I hoped of the five submissions I sent, they would choose one. The photos were not good at all, taken in a rush to beat the midnight deadline on my dining room table under incandescent lighting. The magazine will, of course, professionally photograph the pieces for publication, but I was afraid the poor quality of the photos and my quick editing job wouldn't do the pieces justice.

The timing could not be more perfect or ironic. Or confusing.

I've been praying for direction and answers about what to do with myself lately. I have basically decided to just hang up jewelry design as a business because I have not been feeling successful at it. People tell me that I am talented; they tell me that my jewelry is gorgeous, that it is unusual, that they love my work. But I totally suck at marketing. I do.not.like.it. I'm introverted and shy and exceedingly uncomfortable tooting my own horn. And I've been struggling with the fact that I just don't feel fulfilled or useful staying at home.

Since we decided to sell our house this spring and pursue our dream of moving to a smaller town, life has been chaotic. We sold our house in just 10 days, then moved to a rental house that also happened to be on the market, so I wasn't comfortable spreading all my stuff out there. During that time, we began the process of finalizing plans to build on our 13 acres. We ran into problem after problem with that process, and finally it became evident that it was going to cost a LOT more than we expected so we decided to see what kinds of existing homes were available. After only one day of looking, we found the perfect house. It was a foreclosure with a very attractive price, had a shop and sat on 4 acres. Within one week, we had a contract on this house, a contract on the sale of our 13 acres and were making plans to move.

Without a doubt, everything fell into place just as it was supposed to, but the limbo time and all the uncertainty wrought havoc on my creative energy. Plus, almost all of my supplies were packed away in a dank storage building, out of my reach.

Fast forward to now: adjusting to this small town lifestyle has been surprisingly difficult for me. I thought I knew what I was getting into because I grew up in a small town. I don't know anyone here. I'm not good at meeting new people unless we are forced together by soccer games, volunteering or other circumstances. My very best friend in the whole world might as well live a world away. We talk on the phone at least once a week and exchange occasional emails, but that's no substitute for real-life friendship and I miss her so much. I've felt myself slipping into a hole for the past few months, and finally decided that since my application to substitute teach or volunteer at Aaron's school hadn't received a response, that I should start looking for a job. I've had a few interviews, one of which would have been okay, but it's in a town 20 minutes from here, so it wouldn't afford me the opportunity to meet local folks. I'm supposed to hear back about that one by this Friday. I've been mulling over what to do if I am offered the job because it's not exactly perfect.

So here I sit, less than an hour after receiving this amazing news, wondering what the heck I'm supposed to do. And wondering whether this is the answer I've been looking for. One of my prayers was that I have the wisdom to recognize the right opportunity when it presents itself. Now I guess I'm trying to decide whether I've been endowed with said wisdom.

As for the magazine, I'm going to keep the details under my hat for a while longer, just in case something falls through with it. I'll announce details when it hits the stands, which is supposed to be Spring 2008!!

Puss In Boots

At the end of the Summer, I took Aaron to the Ft. Worth Museum of Science and History to see the Star Wars exhibit. That stuff was cool, but true to form, his favorite display was the gift shop. Being the ultimate dealmaker, he agreed that if I bought him a Jengo Fett costume he would wear it for Halloween. Of course, that was months ago, priorities change, promises are forgotten. Around October 5th, he announced he really really wanted to be Puss in Boots for Halloween.

Pressly and I stuck to our guns on this one. The boy must learn to honor his word, and not re-trade the deal after he's gotten what he wants.

Then I got a note from his school that the kiddos would be allowed to dress as story book characters for school on Halloween. Then Monday, he opened his bank and brought me all his change and his $2 bills, offering to pay for the Fett costume if he could just PLEASE be Puss in Boots for Halloween. So we gave in.

I'm not sure Katy agrees with our decision, though (or that look could be trepidation at the thought of us bringing home another cat)


But this all doesn't come without consequence. Oh, no. We still have to teach responsibility, right? So, the kitty litter box needs to be scooped every day, and at the rate of $.50 per day, he should have his debt paid by the end of the year. Aaron doesn't seem too upset about the deal (for now, anyway).

Happy Halloween!

I suppose it's because Halloween is the first "holiday" of the season, Aaron gets really wound up about it every year. I mean, honestly - he starts asking to put up the Halloween decorations around September 7th. And he gets so excited about all the cool stuff in the stores. This year, I gave in and let him buy a pumpkin decorating book with stencils and tools. It made cutting those suckers SO MUCH EASIER!

Aaron had picked out a pretty elaborate ghost to carve on the larger pumpkin, but Pressly and I were experiencing a great amount of anxiety over whether we could get all those teensy cuts to look right. We convinced Aaron to look for something a little less complicated, so he and Pressly started leafing through the book. As soon as Pressly spotted the alien pattern, he had his mind made up... we just had to convince Aaron! He agreed once we told him he could do whatever he wanted with the other pumpkin. So Pressly got his alien jack-o-lantern and Aaron freehanded a Dracula on the other. It was a lot of fun, and I think they turned out pretty neat!

Here are some photos of the process for your entertainment.

What a shame..

After dropping the kiddo off at school this morning, I stopped at a nearby convenience store for my morning caffeine. The dude in line ahead of me was also purchasing his morning pick-me-up, but his left the store in a brown paper bag. ;) A liquor store cashier once informed me that that particular size and shape of bag is called a 'wino bag.' How apropos.

How is it fair that HE could buy a 40oz Natural Light for $1.07 and my 20oz diet Coke was $1.40. I also have to say it doesn't give me warm fuzzies that you can buy beer just a hundred yards from my son's primary school. At 7:45 a.m.

Bring in the Clowns -and- A Hall of Fame

Aaron: "Mom, I finally decided what I'm gonna be when I grow up."
Me: "Great! What?"
Aaron: "A clown."
Aaron: "Sebastian is going to be a clown too. We're gonna work for each other. And throw pies in each others' face."
Me: "Wow, that sounds like fun!"
Aaron: "Mom, I had to pull my clip in class today."
Me: "What did you do?"
Aaron: "I just couldn't get that clown song out of my head. And I had to sing it."

So, forget the army man, the bridge builder and the architect. He's gonna be a clown. Which I think suits him quite nicely. ;)


----------------------------------------------------------


Aaron rode his second dirt bike race on October 6th. He really seems to enjoy it, which is nice because he sometimes shies away from things that are risky. But I think the competition and the thrill of the win got him!

He placed 5th in the race and brought home a nice trophy:

Then he told me we needed to hire a building person to come build a hall of fame for all his trophies. It needs to be very long and curvy.

For the record, he probably has half a dozen trophies right now, including several from his soccer and T-Ball exploits, this race trophy and the trophy he got in his first race where all the PeeWee riders trophied.

So naturally I told him we would build him that long, curvy hall of fame if I win $1,000,000 in the McDonald's Monopoly game.

(By the way, if anyone knows where I can get a Boardwalk gamepiece, I'd be forever grateful.)

Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My!

We're well on our way to a having a bonafide menagerie with two doggies, two hamsters and now...

TIGER!

A few weeks ago, Pressly said it would be okay for us to get a cat with the understanding that it would strictly be an outside cat. He figures it would be good for keeping the mice and snakes at bay around the house.

After thinking it over, I decided I really didn't want to adopt a cat from a rescue or shelter with the sole purpose of sticking it outside. Many of those cats are tempered for the indoors and are de-clawed. So I thought I'd just keep my eyes open for an ad for free kittens or something.

I was almost home this morning after dropping Aaron off at school when something ran across the road in front of me. It didn't move like a squirrel, but I was too far away to see what it was. Once I got to about where I had seen it, I slowed down and saw this tiny orange baby disappear behind a tree. I could hear it mewing loudly so I got out of the car and started calling to it. Knowing how temperamental cats can be, I figured it was futile, but I'm a total sucker for animals.

In just a second, it came out out from behind its tree and looked at me. I walked over, reached down and scooped it up, thinking at any minute this skin-and-bones furball was going to start clawing at me with all its fury. But he didn't! He started purring right away. Sweet baby just wanted to nestle into my hair. He rode fine in the car, and when we got home I gave him a little milk and introduced him to the dogs.

I took him to the vet, who says he's probably 8-10 weeks old but is so malnourished it's hard to tell. He has ear mites, and weighs only about 1 pound 3 oz, but other than that, he seems healthy. We're treating the mites, and as soon as he gets some weight on his bones we'll start vaccinations. Aaron named him Tiger for now, but says he wants to get to know him a little better before deciding on the final name.

He is such a lover, which is pretty unbelievable for a stray cat. Here's to hoping he's still around in the morning.

Giggles

Aaron's classmates have bestowed the nickname "Giggles" on him. His kindergarten teacher once told me that when he started laughing, she couldn't say anything to him or he would totally collapse in laughter gasping for breath, then the domino effect would cause the entire class of 5 year olds to erupt into laughter. I figured he would outgrow it, but apparently if that's going to happen, it'll be sometime in his early 30's. I asked him why he thinks his classmates decided to call him Giggles, but instead of answering me, he looked at me with a sparkle in his eye and informed me that a girl in his class is nicknamed....

Monkeybutt.

Aghast, I just looked at him for a minute, sucking in my cheeks and biting down on them to suppress an outburst. When I felt I could speak without choking or laughing, I asked him why she was nicknamed that. He just shrugged and said he didn't know but he thinks she said her uncle gave her the nickname. Of course, I told him he is absolutely not allowed to say that nickname to her. Ever.


Hmmm.... Giggles, Monkeybutt... wonder what he's not telling me?

"B" is for....

Bubbles!

....bubbles....bubbles...bubbles!

What's the point of having a jetted tub if you can't have a little fun every once in a while? We may have a problem, though. Aaron announced he's doin' it again tomorrow!

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So, where were mom and dad when this was going on?...

Bleeding the clutch hydraulics on the Miata...

Then Chelsae Butter offered to go on a test drive w/ daddy...


And when I went back in the house, I discovered that Katy got in on the Bubble action, too...
although, I'm not sure she was a willing participant.