Boys' rooms makeovers

Since the big girl went off to school, Charlie decided to claim her vacant room, and Sam's room needed some overhauling, as well. So after a long trip to Ikea, 3 weeks of battling with Ikea's customer service, some paint, some good ideas, and a whole lotta work, the boys' rooms are finally done. Here are the results... (Charlie's room is the blue & green one, Sammy's is red & black.)

Kitty update

It was becoming more and more evident that this kitty already has another home, not mine. So we returned to the scene of the crime, and drove around the surrounding neighborhoods, looking for kitty-wanted posters. We didn't see anything until we went back to the shopping center where we first found him. And there was his picture, splashed across the front doors of Pet Smart. It turns out his name is Luey. And he is now safe and sound back with his owners. Case solved.

What's in a name?

OMG, the stress!!! For years, I have been bitching about the fact that out of all our pets, I have not had the privilege of naming ANY of them. Not the cats, the dogs, the goats, the bunny, the ducks, the chickens, NONE OF THEM! So finally, I find a cat, a wonderful, lovable kitty, and I get to name it, because hey, I found it! But I am finding it just about impossible to come up with the perfect name. Hell, I'm finding it impossible to come up with anything somewhat suitable. Yeah, I know, I said I was going to call it Depot, but ummmm... this cat is too pretty to have a goofy name like that. But at the same time, I don't want to give it a foo-foo name, because really, I'm not that kind of girl. So please, if you have any suggestions, please send them on. I would like to give it a name that symbolizes where I found it (Home Depot, in the green house, behind the bean pots). And yes, I have already thought of calling him "Beans," but again, it just doesn't seem to fit. Oh, and one last thing, he is one step away from being called "Gary," from the SpongeBob cartoon, as suggested by my lovable son and hubbie, but I absolutely protest this name, so PLEASE help me come up with something different! Here's some kitty pix to give you some inspiration...

Depot, the cat

Am I turning into the cat lady?! I think I might be, but I'll let you be the judge... Today we went to the Home Depot, as we do most weekends. Mission - to buy plants and dirt (same mission we have every weekend). I did not see anything that I really wanted (probably because I already have all those same plants), so I popped my head in to look at the pots (yeah, like I need anymore of those, either!) Anyway, I see a kitty hiding out behind the big bean pots. Beautiful kitty. Big kitty. I walk up, call him out, and he's a total sweety. He obviously belonged to someone at one point in time. So I pick him up, walk him to the counter, and they have never seen him before (unlike the other crazy kitty that actually lives in the garden center and meows pitifully all day). I checked with customer service, but they also reported no missing cats. Then we took him next door to the Pet Smart. Again, no missing kitties. What was I to do? Bring him home, of course. The kitty shall be called, "Depot". I'll have to take him to the vet and groomers on Tuesday. I just hope he learns how to get along with the other animals here at the farm. Anyway, I'll post a picture, just as soon as he decides to quit hiding under my bed.

My hero

Couldn't forget to mention this... tonight we were on a walk, thru the woods on the path that leads from the high school to our neighborhood. We were only about 10 yards onto the path, when Stevie jumps back and yells "Copperhead!" That's enough to make me run back the other way, never to return again, ever!!! But the big man quickly accesses the situation, decides that he should kill the snake because kids walk thru there everyday, finds a heavy log, and then proceeds to beat the shit out of said snake, quickly and with due cause. Then he makes sure to leave the carcass out on the path, if only as a reminder to the neighborhood kids to WATCH THE FUCK OUT!!!

A couple more days

In two days we leave for Rome, GA to take the big girl to college for the first time. I cannot wait. I am emotionally exhausted by this whole ordeal, and I just want it to end. Not only does she think that she is now the shit and can order us around (oh wait, that was always the case!), but now that she has her braces off her teeth and a cool new car, the boys have been circling around the house like vultures, ready to de-flower her at any second!!! The only thing I can think of to make them go away is for her to go away to college... 5 hours away, where I can worry, but do not have to be reminded of her every second of every day.

So, while the girl is packing up her room, getting ready to go, she came across some old pictures, and I just have to post this one. OMG, is my Sammy the most adorable kid in the whole entire world, or what?! Here he is at age 3...

Back to school edition

In case you're not from around these parts, you wouldn't know that it's back-to-school time. Normal locales designate the day after Labor Day as the first day back to school. Not so around here. My boys have been back in school since Friday, August 4. So I've been bustling around, trying to get everything back into motion, making sure they are adequately supplied, bathed, clothed, fed, and of course, making sure the girl is ready to go off to college, too. And because I've been running around doing lots of little chores and errands, that's exactly how this post will read, too.

E. got her braces off two weeks ago. The dentist had to fit her in before she leaves. So in one day the orthodontist took off the braces, then I drove her over to the dentist, where she had oral surgery to implant a falsie into a gap. She is now the proud owner of a full rack of teeth. The only catch is that she cannot chew on that side of her mouth for three months, and food should be no tougher than the consistency of steamed fish.

I earned a crappy parent award on August 3. I went home early from work so I could take the boys to their respective open house events, to meet their teachers, etc. I was so excited, because I love it when I get to be mommy. Charlie was really wound up about it because this is his first year in middle school, and he was a little... apprehensive, to say the least. So I drove Sammy over to his school first, wondering why there were no cars parked up in the front. Then I realized that no one was actually going into the building. Odd. And then, I looked over at the marquee, only to notice the dates - open house was the night before. SHIT! I missed it! And as I drove home, I had a sinking feeling in my stomach that I had missed Charlie's open house, too. I ran in, checked the website, and I was right. I missed that one, too. When I explained to Charlie what had happened and how sorry I was... his eyes filled up with tears. I calmly left the room, went into my bedroom, and cried like a baby. I suck! But despite that, the first day of school went off without a hitch and no one is mad at me anymore.

To make up for my transgressions, I took the boys shopping on Saturday... for five hours. It's not that we bought that much or spent a lot of time in any one place. It's just that it was tax-free weekend in Georgia, and EVERYONE was out school shopping. There were no short lines. There were no short cuts. And every store was probably jammed beyond acceptable fire code capacity. Steve wanted to come with us, but I dodged that bullet. I'm glad, too, because he would've freaked in that crowd. Luckily, though, I managed to keep the boys happy and in good spirits, and a good time was had by all, except me feet.

Work is calming down, but there's some interesting stuff going on. Basically, it's time for a new fiscal year, a new academic year, and department restructuring. I'm hoping to be restructured (I applied for a higher job position). But even if that doesn't fall thru, I did get a promotion to senior manager. Cool.

And the last tidbit, I'm going home today to some new fish. I just got a call from Stevie, and he's at the fish store, picking up my new cobalt discus, three of them. The store owner, Patty, has been holding them for me for a few weeks now, waiting for me to get ready for them. I'm not 100% ready, but she needs to move them out, to make room for some new guys, so I promised we'd pick them up before Thursday. Please, oh please, Lord, don't let me kill these things!

MySpace, small world

Oh man, I have finally given into MySpace. Yes, I know. I'm such a loser, or at least if my big girl ever finds out, she will think that I'm a loser. Why does a 36-year old mom of three, with a nice career and plenty of friends, find the need to play around on MySpace when it is clearly a site geared toward teenage hook-ups? Do I not already have enough to do? Doesn't my hubbie give me enough attention? Well, I'm not quite sure if any of that matters, but I'm glad I've taken the plunge into MySpace, so there! After all, I found my good friend, Steve, whom I haven't seen in like 13 or so years, and we're having lunch next week. I can't wait! And I've found some other friends from my "childhood," as well. I guess I like MySpace because it makes the world feel just a little bit smaller and a little more within reach.

***Update - I think I just figured out why I shouldn't be on MySpace. One of the same guys that has been messaging my 18-year-old daughter just sent me a message, too. He said "You're hot. Let's talk." EWWWWW!!!

Lost my filter

OMG, why do I say these things?! Coming out of my mouth before I could stop it... "Some of these parents think that the sun rises and sets out of their kid's........ (butt)!" (Said to a very professional and kind professor re: a student in his class) My parents always used very colorful sayings that apparently I have picked up, and they reverberate before I ever have a chance to stop them. I'm so embarrassed!

Little piggy

I think my boy is getting ready to have a major growth spurt. Tonight we went to Love's for dinner. And he ordered from the adult's menu instead of the kid's menu, a giant plate of snow crab legs. When it came to the table, I was thinking there was NO WAY he would eat all that. But I was wrong, VERY WRONG. He demolished all his crab legs, a huge baked potato, and even after he ate all the fried shrimp off of Stevie's plate, he was still looking around the table for more. I am always hoping that the boys have a major growth spurt and become tall like their daddy, instead of short and elfish like me. Tonight may have been a sign of bigger things to come.

The happy gardener

Well, things at work are finally starting to get managable. I mean, at least I'm not in a panic the entire day, and I don't feel like I'm drowning.

Drowning... I know what it feels like, really. Flashback five years. When I learned how to scuba dive, I had a horrible time with this particular skill where you have to fill up your mask with water and then clear it out. I'd feel the water under my nose and immediately sniff, and then I'd think I was drowning. So the first time I had to do that skill in the ocean, I was sitting on the ocean floor, I took in a little water, and I immediately tried to bolt to the surface to keep from drowning (which I wasn't really). Only you can't just pop up from the bottom when you're diving, or you get the bends (nitrogen bubbles caught in the bloodstream - very bad). So my dive instructor, Carlos, was trying to hold me down, even though I was trying to get away. He was a great instructor, because despite me trying to beat him off and pummelling him with my fists, he still didn't let me swim up too fast. By the time I finally got to the surface, I was exhausted and couldn't swim or function any more, so Carlos had to tow me back to the shore. How in the HELL did I ever learn how to dive and actually get my license?!

Anyway, I haven't been drowning in work as much this week, so I've been able to relax at night, do things I like, and not just immediately fall asleep after dinner. My favorite thing to do at night after dinner? Drink a beer, sit in the garden, pull weeds and prune stuff. Very zen. Here I am in the garden...

Little feet, pink shoes

In case you don't believe it, I have little feet. It only makes sense, considering I am pretty short, and I would look totally ridiculous if I had big feet. And even though I am short, I DO NOT wear heels. I hate them. They hurt. And they make me look like I am just pretending to be tall.

So I just splurged on a pair of shoes. I have been wanting them for a year now, and I finally gave in and bought them. They are the most comfortable shoes I have ever had, and yes, THEY ARE PINK! Every girl should own a pair. Now I just have to get lots of pink shirts to match them so I can wear them everyday. (Kinda reminds me of when I was 14 and HAD to have a pair of pink Converse high-tops.)

TGIF!!!

At long last I get a break from work. Four days, to be exact. I have no plans, other than to stare at my boys and try to memorize the patterns of freckles on their faces, and maybe talk to E about getting ready for you-know-what. Actually, I'm sure that I will spend a lot of time cleaning the house and gardening, because that's what I like to do and it needs to be done. Hopefully some other spontaneous events will occur, and hopefully my camera will be ready... will post pics as soon as they happen.

I bought my lucky shirt today. Well, I'm not sure that I actually bought it. Did I steal it? Maybe? Not exactly? Well, sort of? Hell, I don't know! Scenario... I went to the mall today in between runs to the buildings to deliver "art stuff". Ran into the Gap to buy some t-shirts. Found one very plain t on the clearance rack for $3.99. Took it up to the cashier, rang it up, computer says $0.00! Jack-pot! He let me have it for nothing! So it's now officially my lucky shirt, and I will have to wear it every day to ward off the evil spirits.

Came home today to find the cuuuuuuuutest spiney box puffer in my tank. OMG, he's only an inch or so long. Smallest one I've ever seen. 120 gallon tank, practically all to himself (I haven't really started stocking the tank yet). And I can't wait to start feeding him shrimpies to make him fat and sassy. It seems that my dear local teenage boy fisherman caught this puff with his casting net and brought him back home for my tank. What a great surprise! Thanks, Dominic!

Tater Salad

Okay, aside from this whole wo*k thing that I just babbled about, even though I said I wasn't gonna, I forgot to mention something. Stevie calls me the other day while I'm at wo*k. I don't really have time to talk to him, because I'm so damn busy shopping and stuff. But I decide to give him two minutes of my time...
He says, "So, what are you doing on September 29?" (Hell, I don't know! All I know is that I have to go shopping tomorrow and buy shit.)
"I don't know, Honey. That's too far in advance to know."
"Okay, well, I bought the tickets."
"Tickets for what?!" (I'm thinking John Mayer at this point. You say tickets, I say John Mayer.)
"Tater Salad!"
"OMG, no f'ing way!"
"Yes, f'ing way!"
And I hung up the phone.
Okay, my faaaaaaavorite comedian is coming to town, and before I even knew it, my honey found out about it and bought tickets. I think I love him, and I looooove Tater Salad!!!

I will not talk about work.

Well, I don't have much to report, as I don't like to fill my blog with the mundane details of work. And that's all I've been doing lately - work, work and more work. It's during this time of year that my kids forget what I look like because they see me so rarely.

Actually, my work is not mundane, boring, or anything like that. I do have a job that is fun and that I do enjoy (most of the time), and I work with the best group of people ever.

{Side scenario... two Sundays ago, we all worked until midnight, on a Sunday, driving from building to building, caravan style, hauling some very heavy art "stuff". Boxes and boxes and boxes. No one complained. Everyone chipped in and carried more than they could. And we got it done. Because we had to. Actually, they didn't HAVE to. It was my responsibility. But I needed them. And they came. I owe them a lung or something.}

So the past two weeks of work have been extremely hard, overwhelming, and creeping into my every thought. And considering that I am dealing with a dying mother, a daughter who is about to go off to a very expensive private college, and all the other usual suspects (two boys, a husband and a father-in-law who don't know how to communicate with each other), I don't have much space in my brain for this work thing. And yet, there it is, consuming my every waking moment, and most of my sleeping ones as well... WORK!!!

However, I said I wasn't going to go into the mundane details (like all the schedule changes, calls for supplies, confused students, etc.) Instead, I'm going to give you my shopping list. Yes, I said my shopping list. In the past month, starting with a zero balance, I have managed to max out, actually exceed the spending limit on my corporate credit card. Here's just a sampling of what I have purchased in the past month... 75 flash drives imprinted with logo, 125 plastic dress forms (they look like shiny black bodies), 4 suites of living room furniture, a 16'x16' rug, 100 lbs. of cuttlefish bone, 12 nights of hotel rooms for two interns, 2 200-piece tinkertoy sets, 2 100-piece fiddlestix sets, a 160 gb external harddrive, a whole mess of printmaking paint, hundreds of cd-r's and dvd-r's, paper, magazines, a food processor, do-dads, and I don't know what else. And of course, I have a shopping trip scheduled for tomorrow. I think I'm supposed to buy a microwave. AHHHHH!!!!

MINI friends

P.S. And apparently, there is a great community of MINI owners up there in ATL and Rome. On several occasions, I walked out to the car, only to find that the Red Rocket had been making friends in the parking lot. A MINI rule... there is always great size in numbers.

There's something to be said for conducting research on the internet.

In the past 9 years, we have been making most, if not all, of our life decisions with the help of information collected on the internet. And today, with complete confidence, I can say that this method is doing pretty well for us.

The internet has shown us about what to expect on the island of Terceira where we spent three wonderful years. Then the internet brought us to Savannah and to The Hill, where we have carved out a fine little life for ourselves. The internet introduced me to SCAD, such a great school to work for and to be a part of. And in the past two days I have had the opportunity to visit the school that we have helped Esther choose, based on what we saw on the internet, and I can whole-heartedly say that this is the best place for her. WOW! What a relief to see it first-hand, and to have everything confirmed. What a great school this is, and what an enriching, supportive, and special community she is about to become a part of... and I owe it all to the internet???

I'm your number 1 fan!!!

Really, the title of this post should be "I'm a number 1 geek!" Or, "Why I'm a pitiful middle-aged woman who still thinks she is a teenager!" See, I have a confession to make. It's really quite embarrassing, and my husband teases me endlessly about it. Are you ready for this? Okay, I am a member of the John Mayer fan club. A bona-fide, card-carrying, paying member of the John Mayer fan club. Yes, John Mayer, that same cotton-candy sickenly sweet pop-star that sings directly to teenage girls and makes them swoon, but makes all other members of the population go into fits of disgust? Well, I confess... I LOVE HIM, and I even pay to love him!!! I can hear you now... "Whyyyyyy?! NOOOOOO, not him!" Well, I can't help it. I discovered that if I became a member of his fan club, then I could get awesome tickets to his concerts, AND I could buy those concert tickets before the general public. Reason enough for me. But as a bonus, I also get "breaking news" about his upcoming releases, tours, etc. And that's what has me so excited... he has been recording a new album, and I am impatiently waiting for us "members" to have access, before you people in the "public", to have a listen to the first single from this new album, Continuum. So nanny-nanny-boo-boo!!!

I'm okay, really.

Alright. One day of everyone at work tiptoeing around me is enough. When I arrived today, everyone looked at me as though they had seen a ghost. "How are you? Are you alright? You really don't have to be here today. We'll cover things for you if you need to take some time away." I swear, it's the outpouring of love and concern from everyone that has me so unhinged. I'm not used to this. I can deal with cancer and death. But empathy? That's just too hard.

One last goodbye

My mom has lung and brain cancer. Did I mention that already? Well, after speaking on the phone with my dad on Sunday morning, I packed my bags, loaded up the car, and drove to Virginia. Dad didn't ask me to come up, and certainly wasn't expecting me. But it was something he said... "I'd be surprised if she lasts longer than a day or two." Apparently Mom's condition had drastically changed. She wouldn't get out of bed. She wouldn't eat. She wouldn't drink. For two days. And when I arrived there on Sunday night at 11:00 p.m., I went up to her room to see her, to tell her that I love her, and to tell her goodbye. She was lying across the bed, a sheet twisted around her tiny body, and she was almost completely naked. I rubbed her bald head, and she knew who I was. She reached up and gave me a limp-armed hug. So I told her what I had to say, and then let her go back to sleep. Needless to say, I didn't sleep that night. I lay there awake all night, wondering if she would be alive when I returned to the townhouse in the morning. Part of me wished that she would pass away in her sleep. Not because I want her to go, but because she seems so miserable, and I think that would be a good way to die. I think she lost her will to live.

But when I did return in the morning, she had already eaten a cup of cereal with milk and had a cup of coffee. Was she playing possum? I don't know. She continued to eat and drink throughout the day, and even decided later that evening, that she was going to get up and come downstairs. Dad and I rushed up the stairs when we saw her teetering at the top, holding onto the rail. She can't walk on her own, but she had gotten out of bed, put on a tshirt and her tennis shoes, and had gotten herself to the stairs. So we brought her down, and she spent about an hour sitting on the couch and working on the word jumble. When I looked at her scribbles later, I saw that she actually had unscrambled a couple of the words.

This morning when I left, I said my last goodbyes. There wasn't anger or sadness or anything. Tomorrow she won't even remember that I was there. I only told her that I loved her and that I will miss her. And I won't be going back up there to see her again.