Attraversiamo!

New Year's Eve! In many ways, this is my favorite day of the year. There is something so promising about the last day of the year. I love making plans, cleaning out the last of the Christmas decorations, getting my house ready, and embracing a new year.
One thing I do not like about the last day of the year is the laundry. My mother is quite superstitious, and she believes, and taught me, that carrying over dirty clothes into a new year is bad luck, and even worse luck will come if you dare to wash clothes on New Year's Day. This is hard to do in a family of six. So, as I type, my washer and dryer are humming along in their busiest day of the year. They get tomorrow off.
A good friend reminded me this morning that TODAY, December 31, 2010, is actually, and without doubt, the final day of this decade. This is a fact. I like to tell everyone I have a Millennium Baby, which I do if you agree that 2000 was the LAST year of the last millennium, but the fact remains that the first year of the new decade was actually 2001, and the final year is 2010. So because of that undeniable (but often disputed) chronological fact, today is the end of a decade. So, I'd like to dedicate this post to a reflection of the past decade.

Ten years ago today I was on the final days of my maternity leave, celebrating the fact that I had a bouncing baby boy but lonely as could be in the damp Pacific Northwest. I had some good friends, I had a decent job that I dreaded returning to, and I had a view of Mt. Hood from my window. I had a 50 minute drive to Timberline Lodge and a 50 minute drive to the Pacific Ocean. But I didn't have my parents, and I didn't have my parents-in-law, and I didn't have fried chicken and grits and Joy, Susan, or Jenny. So I started to plot and plan, and things fell into place. My company was sold in April of the next year, giving me enough severance pay to orchestrate a move back home.
Since I set foot once again on Georgia soil, and vowed to never leave it again, I have seen my beloved Buford Wolves win seven state championships, I have given birth to two more babies, I have planned a class reunion, I have bought a house, I have hauled my arguing father to the hospital with a stroke, I have watched his amazing recovery, I have lost my Uncle Nolan, my Uncle Buddy, and my precious friend Bjorn. I have reconnected with my old friends, and I have lost touch with some special ones. I have become a panther. I have become a Methodist. I have lost the greatest and most unusual cat in the world, only to be led to her clone 8 years later in a strange twist of events. I gained 90 pounds, and I have lost 70 of those again. I have struggled with financial security and been led to financial peace and back again, and back again, and back again. I discovered what was really important when my son was born too early and was in NICU, and I was led to peace and tranquility by a praying mantis. I learned that there are some people, no matter how many years pass, that are always there, and I unfortunately learned that there are some others, even if they appear to be in your corner, who are certainly not. I have gone from working 50 hours a week and commuting 20 hours a week to staying at home with my children and working when I have the opportunity. I have made some great new friends and I have also made some people very angry. I think I'm finding my place. This is me. This is who I am. This is who I am becoming.
Here's the deal, folks...I've spent the last decade going from being a 29-year-old lost soul on the other side of the country to a 39-year-old with a purpose, and I have savored the journey. I'm finding my purpose every day, and I'm finding it in the most unexpected of places. I'm finding it in the homes of old friends, the company of new friends, in a den full of Webelos and in a room full of Daisies. I'm finding it in a high school auditorium, at a keyboard, in a car, in a game, at breakfast, at a festival, and at a big, beautiful church I drove by every day but never thought to stop until one Sunday when the calling was too loud to ignore.

2011 is going to be special...I have no doubt. The class of 1989 is turning 40, and I intend to embrace that birthday at my happiest and fittest. I have the tools. I have the drive, and now I have it published so there's no going back. I'm ready. I'm willing. I'm not looking back.
Since I'm back to studying Italian, I'll leave you with this one phrase...
Attraversiamo. Let's cross over.

Happy New Year, friends.

A Lost Holiay

Today my children were out of school for Columbus Day, fall holiday, whatever you want to call it. It has been an interesting day that is going to end very soon with me sitting on the deck reading Cosmopolitan and eating an entire chocolate pie.

To work off yesterday's pumpkin cakes, I decided I would hit the exercise hard today. I did what should have amounted to 60 minutes of exercise, but it took me all day. This is why...

"Can I have another Band Aid?" Maisy must have asked this question 500 times. She knows there is a new box of Littlest Pet Shop Band Aids in the cabinet, and she is determined to injure herself just enough to use them all in one day.

"Columbus didn't discover America. There were many before him." Yes, Caitlyn, I know you are in a self-righteous, holier-than-thou phase in your life, but I didn't really see you turning down the chance to sleep late, now did I?

"There's a big scary man in the yard!" This one always manages to bring me from whatever I am doing, and as usual, it was Jackson EMC. It always is, or else someone equally harmless like the water man, the garbage man, or even a Boy Scout selling popcorn.

"Can I have another Band Aid?"

"Can I play with your iPhone?" No, no, and no. You might see my grocery list and decide to add a couple hundred dollars worth of snacks to it.

"There's a dead praying mantis on your desk." I was afraid of this this morning when I retrieved Big Fat Greenie from her container. She wasn't looking well, and I thought I'd put her on my desk for a while and see if she would recover. She didn't, so I had to stop my yoga session to conduct a funeral.

"Can I have another Band Aid?"

"How much longer do I have to read?" Well, Chance...you have to read until you finish that book you promised you'd finish before your break is over. Yes, I know the book is 400 pages long. No, I really don't have any sympathy. For the record, he did finish it and is now playing Wii and subjecting me to untold amounts of sports trivia that sounds something like this...

"Mama, did you know that the 2009 Philadelphia Flyers BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH..."

"Can I have a snack?" At last glance, none of my children were starving. I remind them of this fact when I take note that it has only been 27 minutes since the lunch dishes were cleared.

"Can I play with your iPhone?"

"I want to be Bubble Fat (Boba Fett) for Halloween." I admit, this was pretty cute, but if I don't finish this workout sometime today I am going to be Bubble Fat for Halloween, and every other day, too.

Today is going to go down as a loss, I'm afraid. I didn't really have a plan for today and I have paid dearly for that lack of plan. They got the upper hand early today and kept it.

Maybe I need a Band Aid. Nah...just the biggest drink Starbucks offers...that, and a chocolate pie.

So here it is October...the finest month of the year. The month of pumpkins, of my father's birthday, my husband's birthday, a month when I remember the most fun lady, Lucile Wallace on her birthday, Halloween, cooler weather, and yes...our wedding anniversary.
Let me stop for a moment to remember two things. We were married on October 30, 1993. I wanted a Halloween wedding, but I also wanted to be married at the State Botanical Garden of Georgia, and they would not rent on a Sunday for a wedding. So, October 30 it was. It was also my grandmother Lucile's birthday, 75th if I remember correctly. We were standing in line, listening to the opening notes of "Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini," ready to begin the processional. Suddenly she looked down at the dress she had purchased specifically for the wedding and announced in a loud voice, "You know, this dress would be perfect for my funeral." Loud enough for all to hear, yet so funny and so very Mama. I was lucky to have here there at my wedding, lucky to see her in that navy blue dress and lucky to have pictures of her from that special day. I was also lucky enough to have her for just over two more years after that. And yes, we did choose the blue dress for her funeral. It was, after all, what she wanted.

October 30. 1993

To try to add to the special days in October, twice we tried for an October baby, and twice we succeeded in at least getting an October due date. Chance was due October 6 but made his grand entrance on September 14. Maisy was due October 30 and I was ecstatic with this news, thinking for sure she'd share a birthday with Mama or my Daddy. Maisy made her appearance on September 24, but at least shares a birthday with her grandfather Charles. An October baby was not meant to be for me and I guess it is a good thing. This month is so packed with events I'm not sure it could handle anything else.

So far, we have 22 pumpkins we have "rescued" from the pumpkin patch at Winder First United Methodist Church. I don't really think they are abusing pumpkins over there, but for some reason Chance and Maisy feel the need to rescue the not so pretty ones. When I take Caitlyn and Chance back this afternoon to work a shift at the patch, I feel certain they'll come home with a few more strays.

Harry with one of our rescue pumpkins.

My husband Charley turns 42 in a few days. He's calling this his "21 again" birthday and I do believe he feels closer to 21 this time around than he did back in 1989. He's a hard one to keep up with, but with the help of Jillian Michaels, Denise Austin and Tony Horton, I'm giving it a good try. I get points for delivering the four children that help "keep him young." I'm super excited about Charley's birthday present this year, and really hoping I can make it happen without him finding out what it is. That's hard when he works at the very place I intend to purchase it and I feel pretty sure he tracks my purchases, especially around birthday time. It wouldn't matter if I went to another Costco, it would still show up in the system and the surprise would be ruined. So, the best I can hope is that they still have it in stock on his special day. That way, if he ruins his own surprise, he at least won't have found out ahead of time.

I can't discuss October without discussing one of fall's finest pleasures...harvest ale. Right now I'm sipping a Samuel Adams Pumpkin Ale, available only in the seasonal 12 pack from Samuel Adams. I must admit this is not one of the better pumpkin ales. There are some really good ones out there, though...worth trying are Dogfish Head Punkin Ale, Tumbler from Sierra Nevada, and last but not least Hex from my all time favorite, Magic Hat.
Me and Julie Lancaster, October 2010

"Tis the season to experience massive mantid losses, a sad time for sure. In the last three weeks I've lost about 10 of my babies that I hatched in March. I realize this is a long time for an insect to live, but I am always sad to see them go. For every one I lose, though, I usually take in another so that he or she can live out the final days in luxury, and if I'm really lucky, it will be a female with eggs still to lay. As I type, I have four Chinese mantid oothecae and about 15 Carolina oothecae. Baby mantids are always a possibility at any time (well, six to eight weeks after I decide I can't live without them, anyway).

I had the great pleasure of being referred to the other night at Maisy's Girl Scout meeting as, "that praying mantis girl." That's me!

So, I'm spending October planning for Charley's birthday, providing mantid retirement homes, leading two Scouts, one drama geek and one busy 3-year-old boy to their activities. I'm planning for our anniversary (seventeen years!), planning for Cub Scout camping later this month, thinking of Halloween costumes, and providing a pumpkin rescue service. I'm also enjoying my good friends and being thankful every day for friends, old and new, and for the circumstances that have brought them to me.


Maisy and Ginger Duren, October 2010

I'm eating a Paula Deen Pumpkin Gooey Butter Cake and lifting a harvest ale in your honor. Cheers!

Summer Reflections

It has been two months since my last blog entry. I thought when summer was here I would have time to write more, but that has not turned out to be the case. No matter...I'll fill you all in on our vacation, our summer, our fun once school starts back and the house is quiet.

For now, I am enjoying some precious things. Among them...
A day with Maisy today, shopping for Caitlyn's 15th birthday.
Caitlyn finding out yesterday that her drama teacher wants her to play the lead in the spring play.
A new color of nail polish that I am having a fit to try...Essie's Mink Muffs.
Chance's excitement over the National League winning the All Star game last night.
Harry's slow but sure progress on the big boy toilet.
The stack of birthday gifts with MY name on them, sitting on the chest in the dining room, all picked out and wrapped by my Caitlyn.
Charley's new ring, which was ordered yesterday.
My new church home, Winder First United Methodist, where I already feel so welcome I feel like an old timer.
My eight beautiful Chinese mantids that Aunt Barbara and Uncle Hubert found for me.
The quick, professional service of Northeast Georgia Medical Center, where I left my gallbladder last Friday.
My special order of Magic Hat summer sampler that is waiting to be picked up for my birthday party.
My upcoming birthday party with Charley and the children.
The fact that I finished my first Peachtree Road Race.
My friends Ben Whitten and Wayne Babb, who made Chance's day with their surprise gift.
My brown-eyed girls and my blue-eyed boys, who have made this a very special summer.
My memories of a childhood filled with pranks and teasing from Uncle Nolan, who would have been 70 on July 11.
My iPhone...I still don't know how I ever lived without it.
Trades at GameStop.
Copper Creek Brewing Company in Athens, Georgia.
The ability to look at 38 approaching rapidly in the rearview mirror with nothing but laughter and ambition.
My old friends, my new friends, and my friends of the road...you know who you are.
Enjoying a summer with my old sweetheart...nearly 25 years ago we had our first date. It has only improved, and we have improved with it.
The complete joy of having FOUR parents between us that love us and support us, even when we get a little off track.
The 70 pounds that was left somewhere between July 2009 and July 2010. Only 20 more to go until I can fit back into my wedding dress.
The lovely little arthropods that click their claws and patiently wait for crickets to drop from the sky.

So you see...the summer is not wasted. It is relished...spent poolside with friends, tableside with family and friends, and on the sofa watching Spongebob Season 3 with my little people. I'll get back into my blog, of course, when the house is quiet and the bus has left. For now, I'm racking up stories and snuggling down with what makes life important!

Time Passages


I first met Jeff Duren about a year and a half ago. I won't tell you how many years ago I met his wife, Ginger, I'll just say that it was many years ago and another place and time. But everything comes back around, and I was lucky enough to reconnect with Ginger at what we would probably both say was perfect timing.

When I first met Jeff, he was home from a round of chemotherapy. He was sitting in a cozy chair in his living room, with a baseball hat on and wearing a smile. He joked with me as if I had known him forever. I left my children in the car, for fear they might have a germ I didn't know about, while I delivered a Costco lasagna to the Duren household. I ended up staying forever...laughing, talking. When I finally returned to the car, Caitlyn asked me, "What in the world took so long?" I responded that I had reconnected with an old friend and had met a new one. That was a wonderful day.

I was fortunate enough to see Jeff several more times over the next year and a half, at their house, at our class reunion, and a couple of times as we ran into each other in the thriving metropolis called Winder, Georgia. The last time I saw Jeff outside the hospital was the day he found out he had come out of remission. I was standing in line in Target when someone tapped me on the shoulder. It was Jeff, and I knew from Ginger's updates that he was waiting around for a doctor's appointment later that day...the one that would tell him whether he was still in remission or headed for a bone marrow transplant. I asked him how he was doing and he said factually, "Not real good. The cancer is most likely back." I told him I knew about that and that I meant how was he doing emotionally. He responded that his faith was in the Lord and that he would go where the Lord took him. Then, he hugged me and hugged Harry, who also wanted a high five, which Jeff enthusiastically gave him.

Unfortunately (for us) where the Lord chose to take him was Home last Sunday, May 16 Fortunately (for Jeff) he is dancing and laughing, at peace and pain free. His family is still here, though, and they are in a million pieces, trying to come to terms with what has happened.


A lovely picture of Jeff and Ginger at our high school reunion


I am so thankful to have had the opportunity to reconnect with Ginger and to have known Jeff. Through all this, I was able to see the power of a good friend, a longtime friend. When Julie Lancaster and I sat at Jeff's funeral on Thursday of last week and witnessed our old friends Julie Kellam and Lisa McBryant walking in and taking their places with the family, I was moved beyond belief. I felt privileged to witness the power of a long time friend, and felt even happier to have these people back in my life.

Rest in peace, Jeff Duren. You made my friend happy, you gave her daughter a father, and you were and continue to be an inspiration to many.



The school year is drawing to a close. At the time of this writing, we have two more days. This has been a good year and I won't carry on again about how much I'll miss these teachers. We have had a couple of really full weeks. A few nights ago we were proud to sit in the audience as Caitlyn was inducted into the International Thespian Society. I was proud to stand myself and recite the Thespian pledge with the new inductees. They all looked very nice in their formal attire, and we were also very proud when Caitlyn's name was called as outstanding freshman Thespian. Congratulations Caitlyn on a very successful school year!

Caitlyn and her friend at the Thespian induction

Chance has had a pretty good year himself, even learning to write legibly under the patient guidance of Mrs. Langley, and under my threats to send him to handwriting boot camp with Maisy's kindergarten teacher. He scored well on the CRCT and is leaving third grade better than when he started. We can't ask for much more, can we?

As for Maisy, she has blossomed and become even more fun, if that is possible. She has learned to read and write, has learned math skills I swear we didn't see until third grade, and has learned valuable social skills. And to warm my nerdy little heart and soul, last Friday she brought me the "white envelope" with a big smile on her face. Inside the white envelope was the placement recommendation for the gifted program. She tested a few weeks ago and has really been looking forward to receiving the "white envelope!" Congratulations, Beamy! You may be a geek, but you're a geek with style and fun. I don't know where the world will take you, or perhaps where you'll take the world, but I can't wait to watch.


Maisy at last week's sock hop




While we're on the subject of things coming to a close, I might as well put this out there...a few weeks ago I made sure that Harry was the final entry into the Charles and Rebecca Martin household. Everything went well. Our ark is full, as Charley would say, and we're enjoying the new opportunities for adult life that leaving the baby years behind has offered us. I tossed all the baby equipment and only kept a Rubbermaid box full of my favorite keepsakes and clothes. The end of another era. As I work on reclaiming my adult life, working toward the body I once had before four pregnancies, I have started examining my options for the future. Harry has at least two more years before I even consider releasing him to the Jackson County school system and for now, I am content to take freelance writing and editing projects as they present themselves. However, inside and patiently waiting to escape is my academic side. She has been quiet for a while now, but is starting to make herself heard once again. So, I have ordered some information on some academic programs to see how I might want to proceed. It is a very good possibility that when Harry walks through the door of the kindergarten for the first time, I'll be walking once again under that sacred Arch. I'm never going to be completely happy until I am not just a writer, but a science writer. Don't get me wrong...I LOVE editing, but my first and true love is writing, followed closely by a love of science that was unfortunately squelched back in my junior year of high school by a teacher named Ernie Blankenship, who tried his best to convince me I wasn't any good in science. But the love has never left, and I have news for you, Ernie Blankenship..."You were wrong, Ernie, and some day soon I'll be seeing you from the by-line of a scientific journal article." I just have to decide...insects or igneous rocks??? Mantids or magma???

So, endings and beginnings. They are usually one and the same. Last night I teared up over the series finale of Lost. Tomorrow night, I'll tear up at a graduation where I only know a couple of people, and only know them through my daughter. I promised her I would take her to graduation to see some of her friends march in and (hopefully!) receive their diplomas. Pomp and Circumstance always makes me emotional. This time, it will be because I am not that far away from seeing my daughter in her cap and gown, grasping her diploma. Unlike the good old days at BHS, I bet they'll even give out real diplomas at graduation. She doesn't realize it yet, but seeing her first high school graduation is going to be a moving experience. She'll see her friends leaving and going away, but she'll also begin to see herself in their place, moving on to the next phase of her life. I wish we all could see life through the eyes of a high school senior once again.

Welcome summer. Welcome next phase. Welcome whatever is waiting around the bend.

Spoiling the Spoiled

Blogspot is misbehaving tonight...so some pictures are out of order. Please see pictures and then read post as it appears below.

Our niece, Caroline Elizabeth Martin, was baptized Saturday at Prince of Peace Catholic Church in Buford.

Chance rides the mechanical bull at Relay for Life

My Mother's Day party on Sunday night.

Charley and his group at Relay for Life.

Did anyone really think she'd stop texting for the event?

Wow...it has been several days since my last post. This end of school year thing is really taking its toll on my time. That, and the several huge projects I have hanging over my head!

Thursday night Charley and I welcomed the opportunity to escape for the night. Since our trip to Orlando in October was a success and Jim and Linda didn't go running, screaming from our home, we have tried to get away for a night when the opportunity presents itself. Our destination of choice? Athens, of course. Eighteen miles in distance but a complete world away. When I cross over from Jackson County into Clarke County, I suddenly feel about 20 years younger. I like to put on some REM and grab a Flagpole, sit on the hotel bed and plan out our evening of fun. You CAN go back to college, no matter how old you get, and the best part is now I am old enough to appreciate everything but still young enough to blend in downtown.

Our evening ended up where it usually does, at the Copper Creek Brewing Company on Washington Street. This is kind of the nerdy man's pub. It's not unusual to see professors grading papers at the bar. But the music is good, the food is excellent, and their rotation of house brews is beyond compare. I always leave there refreshed, and looking forward to my next trip away from reality. Thanks Jim and Linda, and thanks Caitlyn for being such a help.

Outside Copper Creek on Washington Street in Athens.

We enjoyed seeing Jeff, Julie and family at the Gwinnett Relay for Life on Friday. This event was HUGE and I had no idea how big it was. More on this and the rest of our weekend in the pictures.

Harry is coming along in his potty training. I'd love to have him out of diapers before our trip to Philadelphia in late June, but I think that goal is a little lofty. He just doesn't seem to care. He's proud of himself when he goes, but equally proud of himself when he "cuts the cheese" in his diaper (his word for any diaper activities). The big funny so far with his potty training came on Saturday. Most of you have already read this via Facebook, but I'll go over it again. On Saturday we went to see Jim's little girl baptized at Prince of Peace Catholic Church. Harry had been doing good for several days with his training, so we allowed him to wear one of his Toy Story pullups instead of a diaper. We have to wonder what the people at Huggies were thinking when they put Buzz and Woody on the crotch of a little boy's pullup. Did they ever stop to imagine a little boy, nearly three years old, go up to a group of people in church, point to his privates and say, "I've got a Woody?" I THINK NOT.

In a follow up to my previous post, I informed the people at BPC that June 6 would be my last day with the acolyte program. A big thank you needs to go to Alex Cook. His kind words went a long way toward making me feel like less of a flake.

I have a confession to make now...many of you are aware of my debilitating addiction to television spoilers. With all the information out there, it is so easy now to find out ahead of time little snippets of what might happen on my favorite shows. There are message boards, speculation threads, blogs, photo sites, illegal video clips, and people like Korbi and Ausiello to feed the frenzy. There are executives like Hart Hanson, who thrill in mysterious, one-line Twitter posts meant to rile the fan base. I was doing so well. At Caitlyn's suggestion, I had sworn off the spoilers cold turkey. I had deleted all my bookmarks and even disabled my account at The Lab, the unofficial Bones forum. I had done so well...I had gone nearly three weeks without so much as looking at a TV Guide. I was feeling better, mentally and physically. I had even started to realize that people like Booth, House, and Peter were fictional characters and what happened to them had no effect on my real life.

I might need a Number 9 to get through the Bones season finale!

Then it happened...an email with the title, "You Have a Private Message at The Lab." HA! They won't suck me in because I disabled my account. I don't remember my password! I can't possibly read this. But then I began to wonder what would happen if I clicked the link. Would it take me to a page that said my account had been disabled? What could the message possibly say? I had been off the site for weeks. Surely no old thread I had posted on had made its ways back to the top. Or had it? Maybe I should just click the link and get it over with...I won't be able to log on anyway since I disabled the account. Or did I?

Fortunately (or not) the link took me back to the site, as if I never disabled my account. So here I am, back on the crack as Caitlyn would say. Back to spoilers, back to speculation, back to being an Aushole. At least we're only about ten days away from the end of the season for Bones, the show that causes me the most anguish. If you need me before then, I'll be in The Lab.

On a final note, I'd like to say a bit about Mother's Day. I'm not going to get real sappy because I am not sappy, and neither is my own mother. But I would like to tell her how special she is and how much I appreciate all she has done and continues to do for me. She is a real gem. I am also blessed to have some other wonderful women in my life...my mother-in-law, sisters-in-law, aunts and friends. I hope the day was special for all of you. And to my children...Caitlyn, you are what first made this day possible for me to celebrate. You made me a mother and each new experience with you is special. Chance, you made me a mother for the second time and taught me how to appreciate little boy humor. Maisy, it is because of you that I decided to leave the traditional job and see what I could make of myself from home. And Harry, you are the icing on my cake. I am so proud of them. On days like today when my patience is thin and my agitation level is high, I hope they realize how special they are. Two girls and two boys...snips, snails, sugar, spice, light sabers, Hulk hands, bugs, makeovers, Tree Hats, video games, crowns, magic wands, and all...my hands are full but so is my life.

Endings, Beginnings and More Endings

At the beginning of our school year, I hung a big flag in the shape of a yellow bus that said, "School Days." At the back of the house, I also hung a little miniature bus flag that said, "Back to School." I did this to tease Chance, since he was not ready to give up his summer days in front of the television and clutching a Wii remote. But truth be told, I was secretly glad to see the big yellow taxi, even if it meant sending my Maisy off for the first time. Fast forward almost nine months, and I am as anxious as Chance for this year to be over.Maisy and Skulli love to sleep late!

We have had a great school year, full of fun and honors and awards and all kinds of good things that make a parent proud. If I may boast for just a moment, my Chance and my Maisy BOTH have the most AR points for their grade. To make this even sweeter, Maisy was the first kindergartener to obtain the prized AR hat. Caitlyn has really excelled this year as well, diving into her freshman year and coming out with good grades, good experiences and a mystery award to be given at next week's Honors Day.

But the time has come. It needs to end. A school year in its final days when teachers are tired and students are bored is almost painful to watch. They drag themselves up the stairs every morning, drag themselves off the bus and just seem to be going through the motions while these last days slowly tick by...tick, tock, tick, tock.

I am ready to fire up the Wii, ready to get into that growing Netflix queue, and ready to stop having to sign those damned agendas. I'm ready to quit harping on not ruining your good pants on Art Day, quit worrying over Maisy spending all her lunch money on ice cream, and quit asking the question I even hate to hear, "Do you have homework?"

My sweet, sweet boys.

Don't get me wrong...most if not all of our experiences this year have been wonderful. I admit I was a little afraid of Mrs. Baker (kindergarten) at Open House, but she has turned out to be what will surely be one of Maisy's biggest influences. I absolutely love that lady, and her assistant Mrs. Chambers. It is obvious that Maisy has them wrapped around her little finger, but those are some excellent educators and if Harry doesn't get them for Kindergarten I intend to cause a stink. Surely by then, with a child in each of the four buildings, I will have some power! Mrs. Langley, anti-sweets and anti-high fructose corn syrup Mrs. Langley...you scared me at first, also. I was sure my boy would spend a miserable year in your classroom. Quite the contrary...he has thrived under your care. His terrible, horrible, no good, very bad handwriting has improved because YOU have worked with him. You are a gem and I will miss you so. Again, if Maisy and Harry don't have you as a teacher I will cause a scene.

So the school year marches to an end, with some event nearly every day between now and then...and then, a peaceful morning...a beautiful, lovely day when my children can stay in pajamas and watch shows they would not admit to their friends that they still watch. It will be a beautiful day and I pine for it.

As I type, Charley is once again off at a meeting. I can't begin to tell you how proud I am of my husband for the choices he has made. He will be home soon, and unfortunately he will discover that the drain under the driveway is clogged with other neighbors' leaves left over from today's torrential downpour. But he will approach this like he approaches everything else...with is Cheshire Cat smile and with no complaints. He will find, however, that I have at least made supper for the children. This is no easy task for me.

The mess in the yard.

Yes, the rain storm we had this morning was particularly not kind to our yard. We didn't lose another tree. Instead, we gained several small trees that the storm ripped up by the roots, washed down the street, and deposited in our yard. This, a whole lot of leaves from trees we don't have, and a bunch of yuck that washed down with it. Lovely. Weather here in the springtime south is nothing if not interesting.

My mantids continue to entertain me. Unfortunately, this week I lost two adult males. They were well over 7 months old, and that is ancient for an insect, but I will miss them. The males were fun and oh, so pretty. I now have one surviving adult male, and he is the stud. The man. The one that will carry on my mantid population. He has mated with all three, yes all three, females and continues to be spry in his old age. Perhaps he swallowed the little blue pill...I don't know. All I know is he is a lovely insect and I hope his old age in my office is a happy one. I was thrilled to let him out of his enclosure a few days ago and let him fly about the room, showing off his pretty, perfect wings and giving us a fun show. When it was time to quit playing, he happily hopped back on his stick and went home for the night. If only Chance was so easy to call home from Cameron's house!

On a final note, I have to confess that I am so conflicted about something. It is driving me near insane and I don't know how to solve this problem. It is rare that I cannot make a decision. Usually the answer is crystal clear to me. Not this time. Back in October or November, I agreed to take on the acolyte/crucifer/server program at our church. I'm not sure how many of you are familiar with this type of program, but it is a lovely thing to see. At each church service, there are two acolytes (candle lighters) a crucifer (one who leads the procession into the church with the cross) and a server (one who collects the offering and who helps serve communion). This program has grown from a few kids in regular clothes to a full rotation of youth in full robes learning to serve the church in a very important way. It literally makes my heart sing to see these kids walk into the church each Sunday in the procession, paving the way for another generation of traditional Presbyterians.

But the reality is that I am not giving what I should to this program. When I agreed to do it, I thought Charley's schedule would improve and that I would not have any trouble meeting my weekly obligation. This has not turned out to be the case. Instead, I find myself in such a conflict. Do I continue to only give half my efforts to this wonderful program, or do I resign and turn it over to someone who can give it what it deserves? I find myself so stressed out each Sunday morning that I yell at my own children as I get ready for church. All three older children are becoming involved in other activities to the point that it is going to make regular Sunday attendance sporadic at best in the coming months. I literally had to pull off on the side of the expressway Sunday morning and have my older daughter talk me through a panic attack. Unfortunately this is getting worse and the only thing that is going to help is a cutting back of commitments. I know this. Charley knows this. And yet, the guilt of giving up this program and this commitment I made is so upsetting.

So the days go by and I do nothing. I continue to worry. I continue to panic. I continue to let opportunities to give this up pass me by. This is the week, however, that I make my decision. My decision is actually made. I am going to give this up to someone who can be what the program needs and I will watch from the sidelines, helping when I can and enjoying once again the pomp and circumstance of being a Presbyterian that I have not been able to enjoy since late November. The time has come. I am so sorry if I disappoint anyone but sometimes a decision has to be made for selfish reasons, and my family and my faith are being compromised. I am quite sure that spending the silent confession asking forgiveness for cursing at my own children due to stress over this program is a sign that something needs to change. I'll tell them this week and I'm sure I'll cry over it, but the decision is for the best.

I don't want to end on a sad note, so I will end on a small happy note. Harry has proven himself today to be the final little piece in our nerdy pie. All our children have built things with their food, but I think Harry has won the big prize. I give you Taterhenge.

Taterhenge.

Happy Monday, all...if this week goes as I hope it will it will be a good one.

A Gobblie Green Kind of Day

Ah, the Winder, Georgia, super store. Seldom have I been that I have not witnessed some sort of bizarre event. I remember the shoplifting lady who had been chased from the store and was being detained in a buggy corral awaiting police, shouting and threatening people with a stick. I remember standing in the self-check line around Christmas and having a little boy no older than four come up and grab my rear end while snickering about my "booty." Like I said...it's always something. Today was no different.

On Charley's days off, I sometimes like to escape my house ALONE and clear my head, even if that means grocery shopping. As most of you know, I do not like grocery shopping. This is because I do not like cooking. The only part of this process that I like is the eating, and thankfully Charley is a wonderful and willing chef. So, an hour or so looking at groceries, while still time away from the grind, is still a little stressful. I finally made it to the checkout with a full buggy and waited in line nearly forever before it was my turn. The cashier, a girl of about 20 I'd guess, didn't greet me or say a word as she started unceremoniously dragging my items over the scanner. She got about halfway through my order when suddenly she looked up at me and said, "I'm not going to be able to finish." Concerned she might be ill, I asked her if she was okay. "I quit," she said. "Pardon me," I asked. "I quit. I'm not working here anymore." She turned around, put the last thing she scanned in a bag, and turned on her assistance light. I guess I should be thankful for that.

Was it something I had purchased? Had she just seen one too many gallons of milk or packs of toilet paper? Perhaps it was the stress of not knowing if it was red lettuce or romaine. I'm not sure. My order didn't have anything that wouldn't scan properly, I never argued a price, and compared to some customers I've seen in there I was probably the nicest she was likely to encounter. But still, she QUIT HER JOB right in the middle of scanning my groceries. So finally a customer service manager came over to investigate the blinking light. She looked at me and asked where the cashier had gone. "Home I guess," I said, "She told me she quit." "Dang!" said the CSM, "That's the second one today!"

Some of you know how much I love nail polish. I keep putting off a professional pedicure because I usually don't have much time without Harry in tow. So, I keep doing them myself and trying to schedule a professional one so that I can be comfortable in my sandals. Yesterday I sat down with my beautiful new Gargantuan Green Grape. This is a FUN color. It looks like mint ice cream with a hint of lime. It's fabulous. I sat in my bedroom floor while my polish dried and Harry ooohed and aaahed over my new toes. Suddenly he jumped up and ran off, coming back with something in his little hand.

Most of you who know Harry well know that he loves him some super heroes. Villains, too. He loves his Hulkie, his Orangie (Thing), his Surfie (Silver Surfer), his Man (Spider), but most of all he loves his Gobblie (Green Goblin). We have all kinds of Gobblie in our house, and his favorite is a Green Goblin stunt motorcycle. He plopped Gobblie down next to my foot and proudly said, "Gobblie Green." It was a perfect match. So, that color will be Gobblie Green from now on, and it inspired me to rewrite an older country song. Something about John Deere green...

Here it is...Gobblie Green!

"Both her girls said that she should've used red

but it looked good to Har-ry...

in Gobblie Green"

Finally, the kindergarten presentations of this week finished, I decided it was time to release some of my baby mantids into the yard. I still have more to hatch and I kept some of this batch to raise inside, but for the most part I let them go on the roses and hydrangeas. The roses are in bad need of a mantis family to come take care of the aphid population, as you'll see from the pictures. Harry was particularly fascinated with the mantis release. He doesn't remember this ceremony from last year. I took the container outside and carefully placed each little baby onto a flower or leaf.

I love this one...they look like little scientists discussing a big discovery.

You people thought I was joking!

"What mantis doing?"

"The mantis is going to eat bad bugs so Mama's flowers can be healthy."

"Oh, good mantis. Mantis eat Harry?"

"No, no, mantis won't eat Harry."

"Good. Mantis need to eat Chance."

So we released the little babies, me hoping they thrive and multiply and that I'll see them as the summer goes on, and Harry hoping they catch Chance outside, alone, unsuspecting...

The upcoming weekend and next week looks to be incredibly busy. I need to sit down with a calendar for May and make sure I don't have any overlapping commitments. Perhaps I'll hit Charley with this when he brings me home his elusive schedule tonight. Have a great Friday, everyone!

Insects and trees...Mother Nature at her finest

Long, long ago in a city not so far away, I had aspirations of becoming a teacher. I imagined passing on my love of literature to young people, or perhaps conducting science experiments in front of eager little eyes. As a matter of fact, when I applied to (all hail) The University of Georgia in the fall of my senior year, I even chose English education as my intended major.

The summer before I started college, my father scored for me Gwinnett County’s dream job for teenagers…a camp counselor with the Parks and Recreation Department. To make a long story short, it was during that summer that I realized I was not teacher material, and come fall, I couldn’t beat a path fast enough to my academic advisor to change my major. I was not meant to be a teacher.

I tell you all this to set the stage for what I did today. My daughter Maisy is in kindergarten at West Jackson Primary School, and has been pestering me for months to bring my praying mantids for show and tell. When I was contacted last week by her teacher and told it was “Insect Week,” I finally gave in and agreed. It was going to be a small little presentation, in front of Maisy, her 17 classmates and the Maisy heroines known as Mrs. Baker and Mrs. Chambers. Later last week, Mrs. Baker asked if I would mind if another class came to watch. By the end of last week, I was slated for a presentation in all six kindergarten classes.
So today was the day, and Maisy was beside herself with excitement. I arrived at 9:30 and the fun began. I have to hand it to the teachers…they have done a wonderful job with insect week. The kids knew all about molting and exoskeletons and incomplete metamorphosis. So I was able to use my big words and rest easy knowing they understood.

This is my mantis visual, and here I am getting crickets out to feed the hungry insect.

The kids were wonderful, asked good questions and were well behaved. By the time I left the first presentation, I felt confident although I was dripping sweat and losing my voice. The second one went even better than the first, with that particular teacher showing a real interest in the insects and even following me around sniffing my perfume. The last presentation, while still enjoyable, started going downhill. In a croaky voice I answered one question after another, not from the students, but from one of the teachers (I am not sure which one, as there were four in the room).
“I’ve always heard mantises (it’s mantids, lady) were poisonous. Is that true?”
“Aren’t they kind of creepy and weird?”
“Is it true if a mantis looks you in the eye that you’ll die?” (REALLY, TEACH?)
“I once saw a mantis that was three feet long. What kind was that?” And the final kicker…
“Aren’t you afraid you are going to run your husband off with all those bugs in the house?”

I have to credit the children in that class. They showed excitement and wonder in spite of their teacher (whoever she was) and I left there thinking I had added to their day. I hope so, anyway. But I am still glad I’m not a teacher.


Yesterday we had a wind storm in Hoschton that finally brought down the pine in the side yard. Well, I should say brought down half the pine in the side yard. Thankfully when the tree fell, it fell straight back toward the woods, missing the fence, the road and the neighbor’s yard. This is the same tree that has worried our across the street neighbor for four years. She was constantly “suggesting” we remove the tree, sending tree surgeons over to our house only to have them pronounce the tree healthy, and in general letting our tall Georgia pine ruin her life. While I know she is happy the tree is down, this opens up a whole new realm of worry for her…how long will it take us to remove the tree? Let’s see…with professional tree removal not part of our budget, I would say probably about six of Charley’s days off, spread over several weeks and assuming good weather on all those days and assuming that Charley doesn’t get fed up and decide to leave it where it is so that Good Neighbor can observe it every day as she drinks her morning coffee and gets indigestion from the sight of the tree. She came over and said, “Aren’t you glad one of your children wasn’t under it when it fell?” What kind of question is that? I can think of lots of things I prefer to be flattened by a tree, and my children aren’t even on the list. This is what remains of the bottom of the tree...
and this is the top of the tree.


In between the kindergarten presentation and the tree fiasco, I got the mail out of the box and was pleased to see an invitation to Honors Day at the high school. This means one thing…that Caitlyn is receiving at least one teacher’s yearly award for excellence. I could not be prouder. She has taken on a heavy schedule this year, with all the honors and AP classes she could possibly fit in, while also carrying a huge burden as stage manager for the winter play, Science Olympiad competitor and secretary, and all-around dependable student. The guessing will be fun to see which of her eight teachers chose her for their award. My bet is on the biology teacher, but Charley’s is on the government teacher. She doesn’t agree with him politically, but I think he respects her for speaking her mind and I think she’ll leave a lasting impression on him. Whatever it is, she has taken a delicious bite out of her first year of high school and has set the bar high for the rest of her years at JCCHS.

So we worked on the tree…all day long. Thanks to our good friend and Charley’s cousin Jeff for loaning us his chainsaw. We cleared all the fallen limbs and started on the large trunk of tree on the ground. As some of you may know, I am terribly allergic to pine and pine oil, a condition that makes things like Christmas and living in Georgia somewhat difficult. However, with the help of a good allergy pill I persevered. All was well until I stabbed myself with the largest pine needle ever observed by man. Within a minute I felt like I had been shot up with a crazy drug. I could literally feel the poison coursing through my veins.

Pine-induced hives. They will fade in a few hours with the help of some good old Uncle Ben(adryl).

That’s when we called it a day. Never fear, the pine will eventually be moved, but it is time to move on to more important things, like the grilled steak Charley promised me, and the tent he put on the deck for the kids to enjoy our stargazing adventures tonight. Who knows? The tent might even be visible from across the street, where it might distract Good Neighbor just long enough to forget the tree is still there.

Playing catch up...a few photos

I couldn't start this thing off without sharing a few photos. Most are random, just some things I thought I'd share. Keep in mind that while I enjoy taking pictures, photography is not one of my sharper skills.

My current favorite picture of us.

One of my favorite views...downtown Athens through the Arch.

One of my favorite new colors...Gargantuan Green Grape.



My prized line of orange and brown nail polish.

Another favorite view...a Friday, whenever in the week Friday happens to fall.

Chance playing quietly in the yard.

White roses by mailbox...future home of hundreds of Carolina mantids.

A rare sight...ALL the glass bowls clean at once.

Baby Carolina mantis, born 4/24/10

My newly decorated typeface bathroom.

I adore the insect bulldog.

Cait, Chance and Maisy

Harry in all his Harry-ness

Finally, a comparison in celebration of my weight loss. The picture on bottom was taken in June 2009. The picture on top was taken this month. Still not where I want to be, but I'm almost there!