He's a Planner!

Mitch: "Mom?"

Me:  non-committal "Hmmm..."

Mitch:  "What if you died and you were home alone with us, taking care of us?  We don't even know dad's number at work.  What would we do?"

Me:  "Baby,  don't worry.  Nothing is going to happen to me."

Mitch:  "But what if you die and there is no one here with us?"

Me:  "Go get a grown up from the neighbor's house."

Mitch:  "OK, mom.  Thanks."

OK, OK. I'll Try.

To blog again.  It's just that somewhere between birthdays and T-Ball and teaching and homework and...life...a few things had to give.  And since they were definitely NOT going to be neurotically vacuuming my house, drinking beer, and drinking beer while vacuuming my house, it appears that blogging may have slipped through the cracks.  But I will try.  I will try to get back into it, as this is the closest thing to a babybook that my kids will ever have.  Basically, me mocking them in typeface, for all the world (or the two people who will check this who actually haven't totally written me off) to see.  I'll go put a few more dollars in the future therapy fund after I post this.

Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, screams the 4th of July like weird hats, homemade bike decorations, and crashing a golf cart parade!  Happy Birthday, America!

Bueller? Bueller?

Long time, no post.  I must apologize for my prolonged absence.  Having a single parent summer, and then starting a new full time teaching position has made it next to impossible to document the insanity that I encounter on a daily basis. 

Let's recap, shall we.

Mike left.
The boys and I finished up the school year, traveled this great land of ours, and made wonderful memories with grandparents and aunts.  We made it from South Carolina to Arizona to Michigan.  We swam in two of the Great Lakes, jet skied, and saw the rings and one moon (possibly two) of Saturn.  We tractored.  We Gatored.  We roller coastered.  We paraded.  We water parked.  We had tonsils removed.  Matty ate.  No, really.  He does that now.  I interviewed.  I got a new job.  We played.  We worked.  We mowed.  We pruned.  We harvested homegrown watermelons. 

But all the while, we missed Mike.

Then, he left Iraq.

And got diverted to Italy instead of Spain. Something about Greeks.  Then, he climbed a volcano, and it started erupting.  And went cliff diving.  And got stern lectures from me, including the words, "So help me, if you have safely made it out of a combat zone only to die on a volcano...". Then he made it to Spain.  Then across the Atlantic.

And then he made it home.

And, even though it was a long four months, it also felt like he hadn't been gone a day!  We were so happy to have him back!  We celebrated by spending some time in the Lowcountry at Edisto.

And here is a random picture of the boys in their school uniforms on Mitch's first Mass day at school.

So, that is it for now.  See you in another four months!!!

Vote For Pedro!

My kids....aahhhhh....my kids.  They are a constant source of entertaintment.  Usually the mocking kind. 

On the last day of school, Matty had a Fiesta!  That got me a-thinkin'.  Just stick with me for a minute...

He loves tots.  Ligers are pretty much his favorite animal.   And, he definitely has nunchuck skills.

and.....

And perhaps the apple does not fall very far from the dork tree.  I am just one side pony tail short of a Deb,  as I bet you that my parents still have my Kaboodle up in the attic!  We are all Dyno-mite!!!

I Think I Feel A Wreck Coming On....

My great friend Steph sent this link along to me a few months, and many, many laughs ago.  If you have never checked out

http://www.cakewrecks.blogspot.com/

then please do yourself a favor.  Get a good cup of coffee, a comfy chair, and peruse.  My thoughts turn to cakes, as I am picking one up tomorrow morning in preparation for our preschool graduation.  I do not have high hopes.  Here are come factors involved:

1.  It is from Wal-mart.

2.  It is supposed to read:  "Congratulations, Graduates!"  I am just asking for it, aren't I?

3.  see #1

4.  It took her three tries to correctly record my 10 digit phone number.  She said that she was having such a hard time, "cause those first three numbers are different than around here."

5.  I had to slowly, oh so slowly, spell out each word to be written on the cake, and at one time had to tell her that her lowercase "d" was actually a "b."

6.  It is going to have "ligt blue triming" and "pastell colors"

Go check out the sight.  Maybe you'll see our cake in a few days!

Well, Now I Know...

If I ever wondered what my boys really thought of me, well, wonder no more.   This, apparently, is what I look like, according to Mitch.  Complete with earrings and a necklace (I attribute that certain Frankensteinish look to my accessories).

Mitch also gave me a new purse.

And then Matty answered a few questions about yours truly.

Not bad, Matty.  You get bonus points for the treadmill and lettuce comments, but you were incorrect about the money situation going on in my purse.  I also am not quite sure how to take the idea that the sole reason that you love me does not involve me taking care of you or comforting you or playing with you or cooking for you or cleaning for you or laughing at you as you put on your undies and run around the house yelling, "Captain Underpants!"  My redeeming quality is that I love your daddy, who is definitely your best buddy.  Not quite sure how to take that!

Slight Hiccups...

So, Mike has been gone about 11 1/2 days, but seriously, who is counting?

So far, I have had two slight emotional hiccups....no breakdowns or hysterics or sobbing...just momentary feelings of "Oh, man.  I wish he were here."

Here are the circumstances surrounding each:

*At Wal-mart (I know, I know), I was on autopilot, just going about our normal Wal-mart business.  Mindlessly filling the cart with our household staples.  Yelling at kids to put back the neon purple Pop-Tarts.  The usual.  I reached for the Arizona Iced-Tea that Mike drinks, put it in the cart, and then thought, "Shoot.  He's the only one that drinks it" and then had to put it back on the shelf.  Pitiful.

*While driving in the car, our song came on.  Everlong, by the FooFighters.  When we first met?  First date?  First song at our wedding?  Nope, nope, and nope.  Everlong is our song...our Guitar Hero song.  The one where I become Domestica and he becomes Rock Daddy and we totally rock that thing out like teenagers on a Friday night while our kids snore in their beds.  That song.  I silently played air guitar while a tear silently slid down my cheek.

OK, not really, but it was sad hearing that song and knowing that he was not here for me to kick his butt at GH.