A Post For You To Read...

[In case you were wondering...No. No I couldn't come up with a better title. I'll think about trying harder next time, though. Really.]

Well, I got a grade back on my Statistics report that I risked life and limb for last week. I got a 95%!!! Ha! Take THAT crazy wind storm that tried to squash me to a pulp!

The semester seems to be winding down nicely. I only have one last exam to take, and it's an open-note, open-book exam that I can take online from home. Yeah. I'm kind of thrilled about it.

I finally finished the project that I was making for my little sister's birthday. The poor soul was actually born on Christmas Day. She's never been too thrilled about sharing her birthday with Jesus though. Understandable. However, my amazing parents have always made a great effort to separate her birthday from Christmas.

Just in case you come across someone who was born in the same predicament as my sister, here are a two very important tips:

1) DO NOT TRY TO PASS OFF A CHRISTMAS GIFT AS A COMBINED CHRISTMAS/BIRTHDAY GIFT. They will hate you and think you're a cheap, tight-wad of a jerkface. It's an insult of the worst kind. You buy everyone else separate birthday and Christmas gifts every year, and these poor Christmas Day born people deserve the same treatment.

2) After you've purchased the aforementioned SEPARATE birthday gift, WRAP IT IN PAPER THAT IS NOT CHRISTMAS RELATED!!! Always.

Here is what my family does on Christmas Day to keep the two important events separate: Simply put, Christmas Morning is all about Christmas. Everyone opens their gifts and says "Merry Christmas." After lunchtime, the Christmas mess is cleaned up, and then it's all about MN. "Merry Christmas" becomes "Happy Birthday to MN". She chooses her own birthday dinner, just as everyone does on their birthday in our family. After dinner, she opens her SEPARATE gifts and we all sing "Happy Birthday" and have cake and ice cream. Then we play games or watch a NON-Christmas movie and at the end of the night, we all go our separate ways.

See? Much better than trying to combine the two celebrations. That's just mean.

Anyway, this year, I decided to give MN a homemade crocheted blanket, AND a book. Oh yeah, go right ahead and give me the "Sister of the Year Award".



Yes, yes I did make that. I've actually become re-addicted to crochet lately because of it. I've been obsessively looking up new patterns and different things to try and make. I have a VERY long list of blankets, shawls, wraps, and sweaters. I'm either going to have to get more picky, or get a full-time job to pay for all the yarn I'll need to do these projects.

Oh, and one more thought: I'm pretty sure my daughter thinks of me as a human iPod. Every time I go to put her to bed, I have always sung her a few songs to help her calm down. Recently, she's decided that she has some favorites. Now, as soon as I sit down with her in that rocking chair and we're finished reading stories, she immediately starts making requests. She will always ask for the same song first:"Jasmine song?" (This is her term for "A Whole New World" from Aladdin.) From there she will shift to "Ariel song?" (This, of course, is "Part of that World" from The Little Mermaid.)

Yeah, do you see a pattern here?

She loves the songs from Disney Princess movies. Even though she hasn't seen all of the movies, she loves all of the books, and she loves the princesses. So as soon as she realized that they all have their own songs, they're all she wants to hear. So she'll start with Jasmine, then she'll go to Ariel, and then I can be right in the middle of that song, and she'll ask to switch back to Jasmine, and then Rapunzel, and then Cinderella...All that's missing is the touch screen and ear buds. I'm a walking, talking MP3 player, folks!

Anyway, I've kind of got a headache, and I've run out of things to ramble about.

By the way, my 100th post is coming up fast, and it looks like I'll be doing a video blog. (Eeek!) It should cover just about everyone's requests. Doug asked for anything embarassing, and I can't think of anything more embarassing than sitting in front of a video camera, rambling for a few minutes, and then posting it online for the world to see. I'll talk a little bit about my writing for Charlie's sake, and I'll even address a few of my pet peeves for Chanel. Any other topics you'd like me to talk about, let me know. I'll try to squeeze as much as I can into a nice, short clip.

Okay, that's it for now. Have a nice day!

Filling in the Blanks...

So...this morning I wrote a hurried post in the computer lab on campus just before my final statistics class. A lot of things had happened within a very short time, and I was seriously shaken by everything I'd gone through just to get to school.

Anyway...I have returned to finish the story that I neglected to tell all of you the beginning or the end of.

I woke up earlier than usual for a school day today. I needed to get to campus early so I could take the final exam for my Communication Theory class and still be able to get to my last Statistics class on time. I lay in bed, after hitting the "Snooze" button a few times, and I heard what sounded like an airplane's engine pounding the house outside. I got up, and tried to look out of the window to see what was going on, but it was too dark.

I took a shower, and as I showered, I heard the wind getting worse and worse. I heard the sounds of people's garbage bins getting knocked over. I heard creaking and banging and the constant, horrific whooshing and booming of a violent, terrifying wind storm.

I got out of the shower, and sat listening to the wind for a few minutes. I actually cowered against the bathroom door for a moment, as I feared that the window might not hold up against the fury of Mother Nature. I had serious doubts about making the trip to campus, but I had to go. It was very early in the morning, and none of the day's classes had been canceled. I checked, multiple times. No word. So I got AJ out of bed, and got her ready to go to my mom's house. Ty was supposed to go to work later, so he would take CT to school after I left.

Just driving the half mile to my mom's house was scary. I was driving through a mess of roof shingles and pieces of house siding flying through the air. People's fences were knocked over, and of course it was garbage day, so people's trash was flying all over the road. I got to mom's house, and as I grabbed AJ and half ran toward the front door, clutching her close to me and sheilding her face against my shoulder from the wind, my mom opened the door for us. "You decided to try it today, huh?" Mom said as she helped me inside. I explained to her that I would gladly stay home if I could, but I had to go to Statistics. We were giving our final presentations today, worth 8% of our final grade.

Anyway, with many encouragements from my worried parents to be extremely careful and a big hug from my daughter, I set out for campus. The drive was crazy, I was fighting against the wind the whole time.

There was debris sailing through the air all around me. Road signs were torn from their posts. There was actually a trampoline, all of its framing twisted and bent, crumpled at the side of the highway. Police cars were everywhere, their lights on, driving to different accidents that were happening all over the place. I have no idea how I did it unscathed, but I finally got to school.

I found a decent parking spot, (though it was still a pretty long walk to the building I was trying to reach), then I took a deep breath and headed out. It was all I could do to keep my feet beneath me as I struggled across campus. The wind was at my back, pushing me forward and sideways, hard. I took shelter between buildings as often as I could, but it was tough going.

I finally got to the building I needed to be in, and headed down to the basement, where the testing center is. I studied for a few minutes, then took my final Communication Theory test. I don't think it was my best work, though. I was still recovering from the ordeal of getting there. My arms and legs felt shaky and weak. Apparently walking in hurricane force winds takes a lot out of you. It's a full body workout fighting for your life against Mother Nature. Anyway, I got through the test (it was 4 essay questions, so I won't know what my grade is until my teacher reads through them all and gives me a score.)

I still had about 30 minutes before my Statistics class was supposed to start, so I went upstairs to the Psychology department and tried to call my husband. He was extremely worried about me going out in that horrible weather, but I insisted on going. I wanted to give him some reassurances about my safe arrival at school, but I had zero cell reception from the moment I got there until after my test was over. I had to turn the phone off and then try dialing three times just to get a call through to Ty.

He answered: "Well, look who's alive." Apparently he'd been trying to call me, and because I was outside of reception, he had just been getting my voicemail. He explained to me that CT's school was canceled and he was with his little sister at my parents' house. He encouraged me to be very careful when I decided to come home, and then I let him go so he could get ready for work.

That was when the text messages started. The University actually sent messages to the entire student body warning them to stay inside, wherever they were on campus. I heard reports from other students of massive tree branches coming within inches of hitting people, and windows in the upper windows of the buildings shattering and raining glass all over the sidewalk. It was at this point that I went to the computer lab and wrote my earlier blog post. Since class still wasn't canceled, I printed off my presentation and when it was time, I headed to class.

Once we were all in class, my professor came in and started talking to us. Here's the real kicker of the day: "Well, I can see that there are some people missing today, but I won't penalize them because of the weather. We'll just report on what we have, and I'll e-mail everyone else." Really? REALLY? I drove through hell to get to class so I could get a decent grade on this report and now I find out that I could have just stayed in bed? Ugh. Needless to say, I was not happy.

Then, as we started the discussion, I get a text message from the University saying that all classes were canceled until 4:30 pm. Of course they were. My professor heard about this, and said: "Well, we're already here, so let's just finish this up." Sigh.

Anyway, we got through the reports, and once class was over I decided that I was going to try to get home. I zipped up my coat, put up my hood and tied it tightly around my head and face so I could stay as protected from the wind as possible. Then I headed out the door into nature's fury.

This walk was even worse than the first. It was entirely uphill, and I was walking against the wind this time. I had to tell myself constantly to keep going, thinking of my kids and my nice, warm house. I finally reached my car and scrambled to get into it and out of the wind. I sat there for a moment, gasping and gulping for air. My lungs were on fire. I tasted blood in my mouth. I've been coughing ever since.

Once I'd sufficiently caught my breath, I started the car, turned on the heater and my music, and headed home. The drive was slow, all of the signal lights were out, so we had to do the 4-way stop thing at every intersection.

As I drove home, I had to fight hard to keep my car from being blown off the road. I saw a lot of destruction. The damage that I'd seen on the way to campus, was even worse on the way home. More street signs had been blown away, their empty posts just twisted pieces of jagged metal. I saw at least two semi trucks toppled over on their sides. Police cars were still everywhere, trying to respond to the many accidents, and keep everyone else from adding to the casualties. I saw the aftermath of a really horrible car accident. The trampoline that had been on one side of the road as I headed up to campus had actually been blown across the highway to the exact opposite side of the highway.

I finally got to my neighborhood, and I felt my eyes stinging with tears as I saw all of the old, huge trees that had been there for decades lying on their sides, ripped up by the roots. People's houses had been torn apart, shingles and siding littering the roads and lawns.

However, the winds were calming down at this point, so people had started to emerge from their houses to clean up the mess that Mother Nature had left in the wake of her temper tantrum. I got to my parents house, and as I pulled into the driveway and turned off the car, I suddenly realized just how tense I had been for the last four hours. Relief flooded through me, but the sudden shift of emotion made me very physically weak. I was shaking as I walked into the house.

I sat down, and my mom gave me some lunch as I tried to recover. I talked about the horror show that I had seen on the way home, and mom told me about everything that had been happening at home. After lunch, I gathered up the kids and took them back to our house. I fed AJ a snack, and then got her down for a nap.

It literally took me hours to start feeling somewhat normal again. I was weak and shaky for a long time, my body just wanted to shut itself down entirely for a while. Ty came home from work early. The power was out at the store where he works, and he wanted to come and see what damage the storm had done to our house. He then went outside to clean up the mess.

We were very, very lucky compared to a lot of people in our neighborhood. Our backyard fences were all knocked down, we lost quite a few roof shingles, and our mailbox got pretty battered, but overall we didn't fare too badly.

Things are much calmer now. The kids are in bed, and Ty and I have the TV going on in the background as we work on our laptops on various projects.

I'm still feeling sore and exhausted, my arms are still a little weak, but I'm so grateful to have been one of the fortunate people who braved such a storm and got home safely.

Anyway, tomorrow is another day. CT's school has been canceled again due to all of the damage that the storm caused today. Ty will more than likely be working, but I plan to get some sleep, as much as I possibly can.

Lesson of the Day: Don't piss off Mother Nature. You'll lose.

Good night!

Stuck...

I'm on campus, at least a 30 minute drive away from home, and I don't know if I'll be able to get home at all for a while.

I don't know who pissed off Mother Nature here in Utah, but she's trying her best to blow every last one of us off the face of the earth today. People are losing roof shingles, trees, siding, and fences. Road signs have been blown away, metal posts are twisted and bent. Electricity is going on and off. Driving is a nightmare, and walking is even worse. Just walking across campus today, I was very nearly lifted off my feet and sent flying into several buildings.

My kids are at my mom's house, my dad stayed home from work today. My son's school was canceled. And here, on campus at the University, they've advised everyone to stay inside and out of the wind. I'm stuck, and I have no idea what I'm supposed to do when class is over. Will things calm down by then? I have no idea. Everyone just cross your fingers and pray that I will be able to get home today. I hate the idea of staying here all night, but the winds aren't supposed to give us any resemblance of a break until tomorrow.

Wish me luck, I'm definitely going to need it!

Just Sitting Here...

It's 9 PM. The kids are in bed. Ty is at work, and my favorite "Abbey Road" mug is steaming with one of my favorite herbal teas. So I decided, "Hey why not write a blog post?"

See? Isn't it the coolest mug you've ever seen? Yeah. I think so too.



Well, I applied to the other University. I've been admitted for Spring semester. Sadly, that option is just not plausible for me right now. It would take longer than I have left before school starts up again to get my financial aid transferred from one school to the other. Besides, this gives me a little extra time to make sure that I really want to make this huge change. I feel really good about it, but I also feel like I need to slow down and take one extra semester before diving in.

My little sister got married last weekend. It was a lovely day, filled with family and friends and...snow. It was actually kind of perfect. The whole day had been kind of cloudy and cold. Then the wind kicked up and it got REALLY cold. It started raining just before the reception started. Then, it started snowing heavily.

However, at the end of the night, when my sister and her new husband made their grand exit with their closest family and friends lined up on either side of the hallway to send them off, the doors opened and with the snow falling around them as they waved goodbye...it was just beautiful.

I'm just glad that I fulfilled my one assignment with a flair and a gusto that few others could have matched, I think. My mom and my sister, (the bride), gave me a VERY important job for the reception: Make sure to save my sister one slice of each layer of the wedding cake, and one slice of the chocolate layer for the groom. I completely understood this request. At my wedding, the only piece of my cake that I got to eat was the small bite that Ty and I fed each other. It was freaking delicious, but it was all I got. So sad!

Anyway, I was paranoid all night, worried that I would miss the cake-cutting and epically fail in my mission. But my paranoia made me very aware, and when it was time I was ready. As soon as my sister and her husband walked over to cut the cake, I was on the scene. As soon as they went back to the line and the servers were preparing to slice and serve the cake to the guests, I made my move. Before the lady could even make one cut, I said: "Could you please set aside one slice of each layer for the bride? And one slice of the chocolate layer for the groom?" She smiled, and readily assented. I double checked later on, and she had wrapped up the requested pieces of cake and hidden them away in the fridge until the end of the night. That's right, I rock!

Oh, and I have to put a plug in here for the awesomeness of my kids. They were dragged all over northern Utah on that wedding day and they both held up beautifully. Not a single tantrum, not even from our toddler! AJ charmed the heck out of everyone she met (as usual), and the manager at the reception hall said that CT has a job there as soon as he turns fourteen if he wants it! (Apparently, he was helping them to clean up at the end of the night, and he was very impressive in his work.) Either way, I'm proud of those two. I think they're still recovering from all the chaos of last week, though. It was a lot of driving around, and several late nights in a row, what with all of the extended family being in town and all. I could tell that they were ready for some down time when it was all over. To be honest, so was I. :)

The semester is winding down nicely. I just have a few odds and ends to figure out and the final exams after that and then I'm done until January. I've decided to slow things down a bit, though. I'm going down to part time semesters. Thinking through this new program that I want to get through, it requires a Master's degree above and beyond the Bachelor's. The thing is, it's going to be pretty intense once I start grad school. I don't want that to affect my kids, especially my little toddler daughter. So...I've decided to do half-time semesters until I finish my undergrad work, and then AJ will be old enough to be in school during the day, so I can go full-time for my Master's. I feel good about this decision, it's one that I haven't made lightly, but it's the right thing to do. For me, and for my daughter.

Finally, tonight after I put the kids to bed I was going around gathering up dirty laundry. When I went into the kids' bathroom for any and all dirty washcloths and such, I turned around and saw this in the bathtub.

(CT showers himself, so this is something he left behind after tonight's shower):



Yeah, I don't get it either.

Just a Few Things...

First of all, I've gotten a few good ideas for my 100th post so far, but you're all welcome to submit more questions for consideration. The more options, the better.

Anyway, here's a report of our Saturday (Yesterday):

My little sister's bridal shower was yesterday, and as I was getting ready, I told CT to brush his teeth. He and AJ were going to my parent's house where my dad would be watching them for me. They both adore my dad, by the way. He's pretty much the best grandpa EVER.

Anyway, as CT was brushing his teeth he called out to me: "Mom, my tooth is really hurting." I told him to come and show it to me. I had some suspicions, and I wanted to see if they were true.

I looked at the little tooth, one of the front teeth on the bottom, and I was right: the tooth was loose. When I told CT, his eyes popped open wide and his mouth spread wide in a grin. "Really?" he said, the excitement all but bursting out of him. I nodded, and he reached up and wiggled the tooth. He ran to the bathroom, and I heard him laughing with delight. "I can't believe I have my first loose tooth!" He ran back to me and hugged me tightly, too excited to contain himself.

Most of CT's friends at school have been losing teeth left and right, and he's been pretty worried about the fact that he hasn't even had a loose tooth yet. And now, out of the blue, he gets his first loose tooth. He was beyond thrilled about it, as I'm sure you can imagine.

When we got to my parent's house, he ran to my dad and lost no time in telling his grandpa about his loose tooth. It was a big deal, dang-it, and everyone that would listen soon knew about it.

I went to the bridal shower, and it was fun. My sister got some good gifts and, at the insistence of the guests, told the story of how her fiance proposed to her. It's a good story, and with MN's flair for storytelling, it's quite entertaining.

Anyway, I had to leave the party a little early so I could get AJ home to take a nap, and found my dad outside with my kids and HJ's two boys (HJ is my older sister), playing in the shallow layer of snow that had fallen the previous night and that morning. CT and my little 3-year-old nephew had built a snowman all by themselves. It was a bit shorter than my son, but it was really great, especially for a first attempt.

At home, I got the baby down for her nap, and CT wanted to go out and play with friends. It looked like it was going to get stormy again, so I told him to be careful and come home as soon as possible if none of his friends could play. (Saturdays are usually days when CT's friends are either not home or unable to play for some other reason.) Anyway, he returned home about 30 minutes later, and he was half frozen, despite the precautions I had taken to dress him warmly.

So, I wrapped him up in a big quilt and let him lie down on the couch under a heater vent. I let him watch a movie,(he picked "Despicable Me", in case you were wondering), while he warmed up. AJ was still asleep, so I pulled out my current extracurricular project. It's for my little sister, MN, a gift for her birthday next month. I'll be sure to include a picture when it's finished.

Anyway, Ty came home from work at around 8:20, and CT rushed to show his Dad the loose tooth (which he had been raving happily about all day, by the way). Ty looked at it, and said "Yep, that should come out in a few days or so." CT was practically bouncing with excitement, "Can we get it out now? PLEASE?" Ty said: "Sure, Buddy. I'll go get some thread and we'll take it out."

Ty tied the thread around the loose tooth and pulled, it didn't work. He tried again, and got the back part of the tooth detached from the gums, it started bleeding. It was hurting CT, who was suddenly starting to have second thoughts about his hasty wish to have the tooth instantly removed. He asked if he could wait and just let the tooth fall out on its own.

I said no. "It's so loose now, it will probably fall out while you're asleep and you'll end up swallowing it. Or even if it doesn't, it could get some bacteria underneath it and get infected." CT tried really hard to find a way to put it off, but finally he said: "Well, can we just use some tweezers and pull it out?" I went and got the tweezers, handed them to Ty, and after a few tries, CT's first loose tooth came out.

He was ecstatic, despite the bleeding. He held a towel against the bleeding hole that once housed his tooth, and stared in amazement at the little white piece of his smile that had just come out. I took a picture, and then we got the tooth all ready for the Tooth Fairy's visit. He got a dollar out of the deal, so that's pretty awesome, right? (It's WAY more than I ever got from the Tooth Fairy, that's for sure!)

Either way, it was a pretty big milestone, and CT is super excited about it. It's just weird for me to think about. I mean, when did my son get old enough to start losing his baby teeth? Sigh...he's growing up so fast. It really doesn't seem fair sometimes, but I am very proud of him. And I'm very excited for him in reaching this milestone. I remember the first loose tooth I ever had, and I was just as excited about it as CT is about his. It's a big freaking deal.


Yep. The first of the baby teeth has officially left the building. Just watch, before you know it, those little chompers will be falling out left, right, and center. Let's just hope the permanent ones will come in nice and straight. Please? PLEASE?!?!?

It's Fast Approaching...

This is my 94th post. Yes, that means the all-important 100th post is very nearly upon us. I completely neglected to do anything special over the summer for my one-year blogoversary, so I figure I should at least do something to celebrate my 100th post.

Soooo...I've decided to allow you, my fabulous readers, a rare opportunity.

Over the next few days, I would like to open up the comments section on my blog and my e-mail for any questions/requests that you might want to put to me.

Is there something about me and my life/past that you're curious about? Ask me.

Do you want to want to see a video clip of me playing the guitar (badly) and singing a Kelly Clarkson song? Speak up.

Want to hear the story about how I failed my first driver's test? Let me know!

Curious about any phobias that I might have? Bring forth thy request!

Basically, I will do my very best to answer all of your questions honestly and fulfill your requests. (Within reason, of course. No dares!)

So feel free to ask me whatever you want to. I'll pick 3 or 4 different questions/requests to answer and put them into my 100th post! If your question/request is granted, I will put up a link to your blog and tell everyone how awesome you are, just because I'm so freaking nice.

What do you think? Are you up for this? I sure hope so, or my 100th post is going to be pretty boring. Help me out here, okay? :)

"This is Halloween, This is Halloween. Pumpkins Scream in the Dead of Night..."

So, tomorrow is Halloween night. I always look forward to Halloween night for a number of reasons.

First: The kids love it. They get to dress up as anything they want. AJ is dressing as a little ladybug girl. CT will be dressing up as a Persian Knight. (And just for the record, yes Ty and I will both be dressing up. Ty is going to be an ancient Celtic King--there's a costume contest at his work. I'm going as a sort of Harry Potter/Hermione mash-up character. I'm kind of playing it by ear.)

Second: Taking the kids to my parents' house so the grandparents can see the grandkids in their cute costumes. My dad always sets up the fire bowl in the driveway. He and my mom sit outside with a big bowl of candy and socialize with their friends while handing out the candy to the kids that come trick-or-treating. At least until it gets too cold outside.

Third: Nerds. No, not the dudes with pocket protectors, I mean those tangy little Wonka candies that come in those tiny boxes. Halloween is the only time of the year that I eat them. Sugar rush!

Finally: Every year since we became parents, Ty and I have a tradition that is all our own.

We will come home from trick-or-treating (and mom and dad's house) and we all change out of our costumes. We get the kids bathed and into their pajamas and then we put them to bed. Once they're asleep, Ty and I will go downstairs to the TV room, snuggle up under a blanket, and...watch "The Nightmare Before Christmas". It's perfect for celebrating Halloween AND kicking off the Thanksgiving/Christmas holidays. It's the only movie in the history of the world that can do that, you know.

Sure the story and characters are just a little bit twisted, Tim Burton has that effect on...well...everything. It's pretty freaking awesome. But the music in that movie is to-die-for AMAZING! I mean, whoever first decided to pair Tim Burton's off-kelter view of the world with Danny Elfman's musical genius deserves a medal or something. Those two just go together like cookies and milk, or in their case, like skeletons and red, fur-lined coats...

I love all of the songs, but by far my favorite song is the very first one that sets the tone for the entire film. It's brilliant! Oh you don't believe me? Check this out:



See what I mean? BRIL-LI-ANT!!!

I have to admit, this tradition of watching "The Nightmare Before Christmas" on Halloween night with just Ty and me is something that I REALLY look forward to. Unfortunately, this year our little tradition will have to be put off for one extra day. Ty will be at work all night on Halloween. It's kind of a bummer, but I'm going to take the kids to see him while he's at work. It should be fun, and I'll still get my movie night with Ty in the end, so it all works out.

So, what are your Halloween traditions? If you don't do any of these types of traditions at this time in your life, what were your Halloween night traditions when you were a child? What are you dressing up as this year? What's your favorite Halloween-themed movie? How's the weather in your neck of the woods? I want to know! :)

It's Just Me...

The house is really quiet right now.

The kids are in bed, and Ty is working and won't be home until long after midnight. It's just me, a re-run of "Wipeout" going in the background, and my laptop.

This week hasn't been anything particularly special. I got a little stressed out by my Statistics homework, but even that seems to have worked out relatively well. I still haven't made a final decision about changing majors and schools, but I am at least planning to apply to the new school, get accepted, and make my ultimate decision at that point.

I don't know exactly why I keep changing my mind about what I want to earn my degree in. I have a lot of interests, and (at the risk of sounding over-confident) a lot of different talents. I guess it's just taking me some time to really find my place, the one degree that will teach me something new and fascinating, but that will also give me something practical to use in the career world. Everyone cross your fingers that I will finally be able to just pick something that I enjoy and stick with it.

It's been colder lately, and I've been a little "under the weather" as a result. It's just been the headaches, stuffy nose, and scratchy throat that I always go through at this time of the year. Hopefully it will all manage to clear itself up soon.

I screwed up this morning, though. My alarm didn't go off properly, so I ended up sleeping in until ten minutes AFTER CT was supposed to be at school. I rushed him over and checked him in. Luckily he didn't miss anything too important. There was an assembly going on, and he made it in enough time to enjoy the show that was being put on by the magician that was there. It was also the day of his class' Halloween party, so he loved that too. He really seems to be happy in his new class, and he likes his new teacher a great deal. Here's hoping this is a good sign of things to come in future years!

I don't have a whole lot left to say. As I mentioned before, this week hasn't been all that eventful.

On Monday afternoon/evening, our family carved pumpkins for Halloween. I have to give Ty his due credit: He opened and cleaned out all four pumpkins. He's a brave, brave man. He also carved three out of the four pumpkins: His own, plus the two kids' pumpkins. I designed and carved my pumpkin myself, thank you very much.

Anyway, have a nice weekend! :)

90th Post!!! (Just the usual ranting, but there's a ninja at the end!)

Hi Everybody! (Said in Dr. Nick's voice from "The Simpsons")

I haven't been around too much since my last rant, and I apologize for that. Life does happen, though. I had two tests this last week, not to mention the fact that CT AND Ty have been off school/work for a nice, long weekend. Oh, and I've been considering a change in schools/majors.

Yes. You read that right. I'm considering yet ANOTHER change in majors. I should seriously commit myself to a mental ward somewhere, because there is CLEARLY something wrong with me.

I mean, I finally settled into the Psychology program with a minor in Communications, and now I'm looking at a challenging shift that will not only change my whole course of study, it will also force me to transfer to a completely different university because the one I'm currently attending doesn't offer anything even remotely resembling this program.

What am I considering turning my whole life upside down over, you ask? It's called "Communication Sciences and Disorders". Basically, it's a perfect, practical combination of my two current courses of study. It's just a more specific, scientific approach.

This program would be preparatory for me to go on to a Master's Degree in Speech and Language Pathology. This would allow me the chance to work with people who have speech and communication problems, helping them to recover from injury, overcome stuttering, correct their speech, and so many other fascinating, amazing things. It sounds like such a rewarding, incredible line of work!

I came across this option completely by accident. I was looking for a Master's degree program in Communication at a different University, but I couldn't find one. So I typed into their search engine "Communications". It came up with this Communication Sciences and Disorders option. I read about it, and was instantly drawn in by the possibilities. Then I found the same program offered at a school that's closer to where I live.

If I were to change schools and start this program, it would only take me one semester longer than it would take me to finish the degree I'm currently working on. My only real problem is deciding that this huge shake-up is what I REALLY want to do. Is it? IS IT?!?!?!? I don't know either! GAAAHHHH!!!

Anyway, here's a funny video clip with a ninja (It's a few years old, but it's one of my all-time, personal favorite YouTube videos. And it's just as true today as it was when it was first posted. Enjoy!) :)

A Resolution...

So...I went all crazy on my keyboard yesterday. I had a lot of thoughts and emotions running rampant through my head, and it was a relief to write them down and get it all off my chest. I felt better as soon as I hit "Publish", so thank you for your patience.

Moving on...

We met with the principal today, and Ty had a talk with CT's teacher (I didn't trust myself to talk to her and remain calm, I was still too anxious about our upcoming appointment with the principal).

According to CT's teacher, he has actually made some behavioral improvements over the past few weeks, which is definitely good news. Unfortunately, their relationship seems to have been materially damaged by having such a bad experience at the beginning of the school year.

The principal agrees with us. She's moving him to a different classroom with a new teacher, starting next week. She believes that CT needs and deserves to get a second chance, and she's willing to do that for him. However, she has made it clear that she will only do this once, and I completely agree with her conviction.

Basically, what we all agree on is the fact that CT's perception of the way his teacher sees him is irreversibly negative. She insists that she doesn't have a bad opinion of him, but whether or not that's true (I know I have my doubts, whether she's aware of it or not I think her perception of him is somewhat tainted by a negative bias.)

Anyway, it all comes down to this: CT thinks she sees him as a "bad kid", so that's how he's been behaving.

I know that my son isn't exactly an angel. I believe that my view of him is pretty realistic in that I know what his flaws are. However, I know without a doubt that he CAN pull out of the spiral of difficult behavior that he's been going through, and this classroom/teacher change can be the key to helping him do that.

Overall, I've been very impressed by and grateful for the way the school has worked with us in this case. They've been very understanding, and I'm very pleased with the way things have turned out.

I really am sorry that things didn't work out in his first class, and I know that this will be an adjustment for him. However, he's very excited to go to his new class and meet his new teacher, so I have high hopes for his future...

Someone Save Me From My Own Anxiety!!!

I'm freaking out.

No, it's not the Statistics Test I was ranting about the other day. I actually talked to my professor about the big screw-up I made, and it turns out that I was closer to the right solution than I thought. I just missed a step. Luckily, he gives credit for the parts of the question you get right, so I just might not have TOTALLY screwed up on that one.

What I am freaking out about is my son. Yes, CT is pretty much at the forefront of my thoughts these days, and every time I think about his situation my heart starts going a mile a minute.

Most of you know by now that CT is in First Grade. You may also know that he is a very VERY intelligent boy. He has always been leaps and bounds ahead of his peers in mental maturity. He learns things quickly and effortlessly, it's like breathing for him. He doesn't even have to try to learn something, he just picks it up instantly. He has always amazed me, and everyone he's ever met. He makes friends with kids of all ages, both younger and older than himself. And by older than himself, I mean teenagers and adults. He's a natural leader, kids just seem to congregate around him, and he loves being around people. He's curious and inquisitive, always asking questions and wanting to know more about things. All in all, he's an incredible kid.

So why am I so anxious and upset, you ask? Well, I'll tell you as well as I can.

CT, although extremely bright, also seems to be a bit of a troublemaker in class. He talks to his friends, gets up out of his seat without permission, and just generally makes his teacher's life very difficult. At least, that's what she's been telling us since school started back in August.

His teacher has actually had the school psychologist come and observe CT in class, monitoring his behavior. The psychologist sent home an evaluation for Ty and me to fill out, to test for ADHD, at his teacher's request. The way these evaluations work is that the child's parents fill one out, and his teacher fills one out. Then the two sets of data are analyzed and set against national statistics and standards. Combining this information with her in-class observations, the school psychologist has come up with a definitive conclusion:

CT does NOT have ADHD. In fact, in all of the times that she has observed CT in class, this psychologist has never once seen any kind of behavior that she would consider to be a serious problem. She says that he does show some very active tendencies, but that he is very able to focus on his work. He actually does his work very quickly, and moves on to the next step before the teacher has even finished talking the other kids through the first step. This, according to the psychologist's observations, causes a great deal of frustration in CT's teacher. CT starts acting up during these times when he's finished the work, and is being forced to wait for the other kids to catch up.

The thing that has me the most anxious, however, is the fact that CT's teacher seems to resent him, deeply. I noticed this after CT had been in her class for no more than one week. He's giving her a hard time, and she has completely written him off as a troublemaker and a "bad kid". She won't listen to me when I try to tell her that this is not the case. CT is not, nor has he ever been, the type of kid that seeks after negative attention. Whenever I try to talk to her about my son and the type of kid I know he is, she just shakes her head and dismisses my comments without a second thought. Her mind is made up, CT is down in her book as a bad kid, and she will take that negative perception to her grave.

The psychologist has noticed this too. She actually told us that CT's teacher's responses on the ADHD evaluation are negative. In fact, her responses are so deeply negative, that her results are not considered to be valid.

The psychologist and I have both tried to explain to this teacher that CT's behavior is linked to boredom, but she won't listen to either of us. She bristled at our comments, and immediately dismissed them. To me, she said: "There is no reason why he should be bored in this class. He needs to get engaged and find interest." She had a similar reaction to the psychologist's recommendations. Her opinion of my son is fixed, immovable, and extremely negative.

Now you can see what I'm so anxious about. Sending CT to school is basically sending him into a dragon's den of negativity. It's become a toxic environment for him. Have you ever heard of self-fulfilling prophecy? A child is going to live up to the expectations that we as adults are setting for them. If CT's teacher believes he is a bad kid, he will eventually become that kid. Ty and I have no intention of allowing that to happen.

We have set up an appointment with the school's principal for tomorrow afternoon. We are going to present our case to her, and get CT removed from this teacher's classroom. He deserves the chance to be in a positive learning environment. We are also going to ask her about testing him for a gifted and talented program, one that will be more challenging and engaging for him. If he qualifies, we will probably go that route.

Anyway, I hope you don't think I'm trying to make his teacher into a villain. I know she's doing the best she can, I just don't think that she is a good match for my son. Their personalities clash too much, and they have since day one.

Everyone, please send positive thoughts our way so we can get CT into a situation where he can learn and be seen for the great kid that he really is.

Thank you for allowing me to rant.

Have a nice day.

Okay, I've Tried, But I Just Can't Let it Go!!!

I took my Statistics test this past week. There are two parts to every exam in this class: Computational and Conceptual.

The Computational part is the pencil and paper, show-your-work, mathematical section of the test. This is what shows the professor that I know how to do the math. The Conceptual part is on the computer, multiple choice. It's basically the part of the test that allows me to show the teacher that I know what everything means.

I hate math. I think I've expressed this many times before, and in different contexts. However, this statistics class really hasn't been horrible. The only math that's been required is pretty basic, and I can do basic math. Even better? The professor doesn't expect us to memorize any of the formulas. He just gives us a packet to take into the test with us that actually gives us the appropriate mathematical formulas.

Doing all of the practice work for this section of the class, I did pretty well. I could usually come up with the right answer. However, when I went in to take the exam, my confidence evaporated when I came to Question #3 on the Computational part of the test.

There were 5 questions on this section of the exam. All of them had multiple parts within the question. Because of this, Question #3 was worth 30 POINTS. Yes, you read that right 30 FREAKING POINTS!!!

I'd done this particular computation several times before in the homework. And as I said before, I always came up with the correct answer. The formula was kind of hairy, but I always did it right. Unfortunately, for this particular concept, there are actually TWO FORMULAS. I'd only practiced ONE of these formulas. My professor had told us that he would be looking for the second of these two formulas on the test, but no matter where I looked in the book, I couldn't find it. So I never practiced it. I figured that since the professor would be giving us the formulas to use in the test, that I would be able to figure it out.

I was wrong.

I came to Question #3, and did the first 3 parts of the question without any problems. Then I came to the part where I would have to use this "other formula". And can I just tell you, IT THREW ME FOR A FREAKING LOOP!!! It's like my brain just shut down, refusing to comprehend the letters and numbers in front of me.

Oh I tried. I literally spent an HOUR on this one question, doing it over and over and OVER again. I tried the formula in a number of different ways, and no matter what I tried, I could only come up with numbers that COULDN'T POSSIBLY BE THE RIGHT ANSWER!!!

Finally I just gave up and moved on to the rest of the computational test. It went well, but I just HAD to go back and try Question #3 one more time before abandoning a huge chunk of that 30 points. I still came up with a crap answer, but by that time I had been in the test for an hour and a half and I had a baby to get home to, and the second half of the test to take. So I just submitted it as it was and kissed those points goodbye. I hate walking away from something like that, I knew it would haunt me for days, if not weeks.

I took the second part of the exam, and when it was over I trudged through the rain to the on campus shuttle that would take me to my van. Wet and cold, I started the half hour drive that would take me home to AJ, relieving my dear Mom from the duty of babysitting her.

It was when I was well on my way home, and it was FAAARRRR too late to fix anything, that the right way to solve that b***h of a Question #3 finally popped into my head! It was SO SIMPLE!!! I wanted to bang my forehead on the steering wheel. I spent the rest of the drive yelling out loud, verbally berating myself for making something so simple a thousand times harder than it had to be.

I ranted to Ty about it after I got home that day and he called me from work. (Telling me in the process that he got the promotion he had been waiting for! Yay for Ty!)

Ty, always the voice of reason, told me that I just needed to let it go. That beating myself up wasn't going to change the past. That I would do better next time. I knew he was right, and I want to let it go, but I JUST FREAKING CAN'T!!! I HAD the answer, I KNEW how to do the problem, but I just couldn't get past the unfamiliar formula and allowed myself to stand in my own way and overcomplicate the whole thing.

AAAARRRRRGHHHH!!!! It's been 3 days and I still can't let this go! It was such a stupid mistake, and it's going to completely destroy my grade for that test!!! It sucks, plain and simple! Grrrr...

Okay, I'm going to go eat some cookies now. I've gotten all upset again.

Just Stuff...

I have to go to the dentist today. I got a checkup last week, and apparently that whole flossing thing has come back and bitten me in the butt again, because I have two small cavities between two of my teeth. I take pretty darn good care of my teeth, but I just can't get myself to floss regularly. It's a real problem. And it's kind of annoying. Stupid flossing. (Don't tell my big sister I said that. She's a dental hygienist. She might disown me.)

Anyway, I've got to be at my appointment in about an hour and a half. Blech. Wish me luck. I didn't always hate dentists, but I kind of do now. I had a rather traumatizing experience a few years ago, but I REALLY don't want to go into THAT story right before I go in to get my teeth drilled.

Moving on...

My brother KT is officially gone now. He e-mailed us from New Zealand and his time as a full-time missionary for our church is well under way. He's such a great kid, and we're going to miss him for the next two years, but he's where he wants to be, and I know that he is going to be a positive influence on a lot of people. I'm really proud of him.

By the way, if any of you happen to go to New Zealand in the next two years and you come face to face with this young man wearing a suit, tie, and nametag, be polite and say "Hi" to him. He's my little brother, and he's one of the best people you'll ever meet.



Last but not least: My other little brother, MC, (6 years older than Kevin, but 4 years younger than me) is famous in our family for finding the best of YouTube's gems for hilarious random comedy. He showed me these videos the other day, and they cracked me up. I hope you'll all enjoy them too. (Warning: I'm not kidding when I say this is VERY RANDOM HUMOR, so prepare yourself!)

Guy on a Buffalo Episode 1

Guy on a Buffalo Episode 2

Yep. I know. You're welcome.

Hey! Listen Up!

Today, I'm going to give you all a great big treat! No, it's not one of CoCo's cousins. But don't be too disappointed, this treat is even better!

Charlie, from Notice Your World has written a novel. That's right! A NOVEL! It is currently available for eBook purchase through Kindle and Nook. It's also available in paperback through Amazon.

Charlie has graciously agreed to give you all some additional information about his book, so enjoy! (And then go buy his book. I've read a few scraps of it, and from what I've read it promises to be a great story!)

Title of the book: The Crystal Bridge

A basic description of the key characters and the storyline:

Kaden is a typical teenage boy who can open wormholes to worlds only he can see.

Aren is far from a typical teenage girl, seeing into the memories of other people as though they were her own.

When they meet, their gifts will send them to a planet torn by war, where a dark creature seeks to free itself from the cold spaces between universes. Their adventure may destroy two worlds. Or, they may just save us all.

What inspired you to write this story?

I have weird dreams. The novel originally came into my head as two separate dreams.

Dream one was about a boy who could open wormholes to other worlds. Nobody else could see them and he always returned to the same moment he left, unchanged. So, no one believed him.

Dream two was about a lab creating holographic simulations that began reaching into alternate worlds with some odd side effects.

My wife suggested I combine them, so I did.

Any surprises along the way?

I think it surprised me how much I've come to love the characters, like they're old friends. I miss them now that I'm not immersed in their lives. I wonder how they're holding up, how the experience changed them, and if their children and grandchildren will know how important and heroic they were.

I know they aren't real, but they are in some small way to me and hopefully to anyone else who reads this book. It was harder, definitely harder than I ever suspected, but so worth it, even if I never see a dime. I had to tell this story.

Thank you so much for letting me share this. It means more than you know.

The Crystal Bridge is available here:

Kindle Version

Print Version

Nook Version



Thanks for sharing, Charlie! Remember all of us when you're a world famous, best-selling author! Good luck! :)

The Best Big Brother Ever...

Our son is an amazing older brother. I don't think I can say that enough. He's 4 1/2 years older than his sister, but he's kind, protective, and helpful. He takes good care of AJ, and she adores him.

Tonight, after spending the evening with my family at my parent's house, Ty and I were starting to get ready to go home so we could get the kids ready for bed.

AJ was playing a sort of hide-and-seek game in Mom's coat closet with my brother, MC. In the kaffuffle of trying to get ready to leave, I missed seeing exactly how everything unfolded, but the next thing I knew, AJ was crying. Not in that fussy, whiney, "I'm just tired and crabby" kind of way. She was hurt. Badly.

I rescued her and found out that while AJ was hiding in the coat closet with her uncle and one of her cousins, a slightly older cousin had started pushing on the door, trying to close it. When it wouldn't close, he pushed harder.

Little did anyone know that AJ's tiny little fingers were stuck in the door frame, next to the hinges, preventing the door from closing all the way.

While she wailed in my arms, I looked at her fingers, three of them had been severely smashed by that door. There a deep crease running along them where the corner of the door had practically folded them in on themselves. She was hysterical, and in a lot of pain. I held her, rocked her, did everything in my power to console her, but she would just get all worked up and start crying even harder.

My mom got her a little sippy cup of water, and I sat down in a chair while she buried her face in my neck and cried. All the while, CT was choking back tears watching his little sister suffer so much.

He finally came over and wrapped an arm around AJ, hugging her and talking to her in a soothing voice. She was calming down a little, but when she saw her big brother, she was able to stop crying and listen to him:

"AJ, do you want to sleep with DJ tonight? And my monkey too?" (Just so you know, "DJ" is CT's FAVORITE stuffed animal--a penguin. He can't sleep without it. And here he was, offering it to his little sister without hesitation, just to make her happy.)

At this offer, AJ nodded, took a few shuddering breaths, and drank her water. CT continued talking to her quietly until she was calm enough to allow me to stand up and then we said our goodbyes to everyone and went home.

True to his word, CT brought DJ and his stuffed monkey into AJ's room for her as soon as we got home. AJ, while happy to hold onto DJ and Monkey for a little while, soon decided that she would rather hold on to her own favorite stuffed animals instead.

So CT got DJ and the monkey back, being fully rewarded for his kindness. Not only had he helped his little sister to feel better, he got DJ back as a bonus.

He and AJ are both dreaming happily now. I love those two little chiddlers!

Gone Too Soon...

Tonight I witnessed a true tragedy. I was doing the dishes--loading the dishwasher-- and then...and then...

*Sob* I can't go on...Give me a moment...

I guess I need to back up. Here, near my home, there is a wonderful grocercy store that has the best bakery in the universe. Seriously, they're second only to my grandmother. They make the best breads, rolls, cookies and...cake.

The other night, at my request, Ty brought home one of their single layer chocolate cakes. (It's a weakness, I know. But it's such a very, VERY enjoyable weakness.) We've been thoroughly enjoying this cake all week. Today, when Ty left for work, there was one slice of it left. It was sitting in its protective plastic dome, looking oh so tempting and delicious.

This afternoon, when I was loading the dishwasher, I needed to move this precious piece of cake to a newer, secure location so I could clean the counter top underneath it.

I know it was unwise, I know I should have been more careful, I just...thought the lid was on. I swear!

Anyway, I picked it up by its plastic dome, but the lid wasn't securely on so the cake it...it...well it fell into the dishwasher.

In. To. The. Dishwasher.

Here's the crime scene photo that I took. (I warn you, the picture you're about to see is extremely graphic.)

Now's your chance to turn away.

Seriously, once you see it, you won't be able to forget it.

Are you sure?

Okay then...



OH THE HUMANITY!!! Horrible, isn't it? I did try to warn you.

Such a waste of perfectly, divinely wonderful cake. Do you have any idea how many Raisinets I've had to eat to get over this horrific trauma? I think I've overdosed.

Sigh...Rest in Peace CoCo the Chocolate Cake Slice. You will be missed.

Taking a Vacation...

If you're looking for me today, I'm not here.

The fabulous, lovable, and oh so clever Nicki has been gracious enough to allow me to take up space on her blog with a Guest Post. This is to celebrate her 100th post!

For those of you that don't know Nicki, get over there and visit her. You won't regret it. You're welcome. :)

Just follow this link to see my guest post.

Have a nice day! :)

Sweet Relief!

So, the last couple of days have been a little strange. Every time I've stepped outside since September started, I've been a little disoriented because I DIDN'T immediately begin melting in a sweltering, miserable heat that can only be compared with the fiery pits of Hell. It's been...well...PLEASANT outside, and I've liked it. A lot. Fall is my most favorite time of year, hands down.

I especially love the beginning of September. You know, that time of the year when the Fever of Summertime seems to break, and the air has a little edge to it that promises colored leaves and chilly breezes being mere weeks away. Sigh...I love it.

Anyway, poetic musings on the weather are over now. Moving on...

I had to drop one of my classes for this semester. It was for a few reasons, including the following: It was on Monday nights, and then I had two classes on Tuesday mornings. It was going to get pretty tough dealing with a schedule like that.

However, the most important reason I dropped the class: I didn't want to take it in the first place. I registered for the class just to make sure that I would have a full-time schedule this semester, even though it wasn't something I was interested in.

So I went to the first night of class, and it was NOT what I was expecting, it was ever so much worse. Then I tried doing the reading assignment, and the textbook was just a bunch of drivel that did NOT interest me at all. I knew I'd be miserable for the entire semester if I forced myself through that class, so I saved myself the stress and dropped it. Now I only have 3 classes to worry about, and I'm oh so much happier. Yay Candice!

We got the digital copies of our family pictures back. Leesh acually managed to capture some really good pictures, despite the fact that the young kids in the group had a hard time staying still and looking at the camera at the appropriate times. (Except for CT, of course. He's always had this supernatural ability to be awesome in situations like that).

Anyway, have a good day!

Okay, WHY?!?!?

So...I got a little heavy on you guys in my last post, but I really appreciate all of the kind words that you left in response. Thank you.

Anyway, back to usual ranting that you've learned to tolerate from me...

This first week of school has been a bit crazy, but we got through it. My son started first grade, and his teacher is incredibly nice. However, he has a VERY serious problem with this little, teeny, tiny thing. I think the clinical term is: "Talking during class and distracting everyone around him." Yeah, we're all crossing our fingers that he'll get out of this bad habit and be a model student by the end of the month.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I couldn't even finish typing that sentence without laughing!

Okay, moving on...

Fall Semester is shaping up pretty nicely for me. I think I'm going to like most of my classes, and it also looks as though I just might not HATE my Statistics class. It's a freaking miracle! It also helps that my Statistics teacher understands how intimidating the subject can be, and has made it his mission in life to help students learn the subject as painlessly as possible.

What is my line-up of classes, you wonder? Well...

I'm taking: Psychology of Adolescence, Psychology of Women and Gender, Statistics of Psychology, and Communication Theory. They're shaping up to be good classes so far. Wish me luck!

My family is scheduled to get pictures done tomorrow morning. Yes, that's right, my WHOLE family. My parents, siblings, in-laws (including my younger sister's fiancé), AND the grandkids (my two kids, and my big sister's two kids). It's going to be crazy, but it's time to get it done. We haven't done a big family portrait since long before the first grandchild, (CT) was born. It's been a while, and my mom wants to get new pictures done before my younger brother leaves for a two-year mission to New Zealand next month.

Anyway, we got everyone on board several weeks ago, scheduling for Leesh to take the pictures for us, (She's a fantastic photographer). We coordinated which colors everyone would wear, and everything was ready to go. Then...

Today, as my daughter was taking her afternoon nap, and CT was outside playing with friends, I was doing my Statistics homework. All of the sudden I heard CT's sobbing coming closer and closer and then he pushed through the garage door. He was crying, and holding a paper towel against his bleeding nose.

He's gotten nosebleeds before, so I didn't think much of it at first. And then, right as I was asking him what had happened, I saw it. A huge, red, painful-looking goose-egg protruding from his forehead just above his right eyebrow.

Apparently, he fell off of his bike as he was riding it around a corner. It started wobbling and he lost balance and fell face-first onto the sidewalk. His exact description of the way he landed was: "I went: 'Dah, dah, dah.'" [He said this as he bobbed his hand up and down, drawing a very clear picture of what had happened.]

Yeah, basically he was bouncing along the sidewalk on his face. Poor kid. The right side of his nose showed some bruising as well, which explained the bloody nose.

I took him up to the bathroom and surveyed the extent of the damage. Aside from a small scrape by his elbow and a skinned, bloody knee, the massive bump on his forehead was the worst of his injuries. I made sure he was okay, and then sent him to take a shower and wash off all the blood. (It was all over his face, arms, and clothes.) Nothing to rush to the doctor about, but I still made him stay inside for the rest of the day. He's going to be just fine, just a bit bruised for a few days, (or weeks...)

My question is this: Why did my son have to fall off his bike and visibly maim his face the day before we were supposed to get family pictures taken? My brother leaves in a matter of weeks, and it's VERY hard to get everyone together in once place at one time. We can't postpone this.

I'm going to call this further proof that God has a sense of humor. He really, really does.

Sigh...oh well. At least it wasn't any worse, and he's going to be okay. Plus, Ty and I just figure that the massive goose-egg on CT's face will be excellent proof that he's a perfectly normal, active six-year-old boy. And it will make for a great story later in life, right?

RIGHT?!?!?

I Just Felt the Need to Share This...

Of course, I'd heard it before. I mean, just about everyone has seen the movie, right?

However, last night was the first time I'd ever read it myself. As I've said before, I'm a visual communicator, so for me reading something will always carry far more impact than simply hearing it.

As I read the brief, profound words, I was surprised by the tears that so suddenly flowed from my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. I was touched to my very core. Every word was singing to me, through my very veins, as though my heart was beating out the rhythm:


Invictus
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
--William Ernest Henley

This poem speaks to me, and it brought back some emotions that are still a little raw.

Most of you know that I have two beautiful kids, who I love with all my soul. What you may not know is that I have been pregnant 3 times. I hope you will all bear with me while I share the story with you.

From the first moment I saw that little pink plus sign on the pregnancy test, I felt that something wasn't quite right. I tried to feel happy and excited about it, but I just couldn't shake the overwhelming feeling that there was a serious problem.

I had spotty bleeding for weeks, and every time I brought it up to the doctor, I was always assured that it was perfectly normal for the first few weeks of a pregnancy. Then I went in for the first ultrasound. There was the baby, tiny and already growing arms and legs and miniscule little fingers. And there, in plain sight, was the baby's heartbeat--steady and strong.

The doctor calculated that I was about 8 weeks along, and set my due date for the middle of the next June. She also assured me that once a heartbeat was found in a fetus, my chances of miscarriage dropped dramatically. Things looked pretty good, and I tried to ease my mind.

A few days after the ultrasound was Halloween. Ty and I decided to announce the news to our parents. Everyone was so happy and excited, but I just felt sick.

We told our son the news before anyone else, and he was thrilled to be getting a new baby sibling. He was about 3 1/2 years old at the time. We took him to the appointments, and he heard the baby's heartbeat. He loved it.

Then, a mere week after that reassuring ultrasound, Ty, CT and I went out to dinner with my friend, Leesh. While at the restaurant, after showing Leesh the ultrasound pictures, we were just sitting there talking when I felt a sudden, small gush of fluid. I rushed to the bathroom, and was terrified to find that I was bleeding. That is one sight that will send just about any expecting mother into near hysterics. I could only feel cold. It was as though my blood had frozen in my veins.

I called the doctor, who told me to take it easy for a day or so and monitor the bleeding. If it got worse, I was to go to the emergency room. To my relief, the bleeding went away after the first 48 hours, and I went in to the doctor's office about 2 days later. She took another ultrasound, and the news was very comforting.

The baby still looked good, and its heartbeat was still strong.

About 4 days after that, however, we were at home, watching TV on the couch when I felt another small gush of fluid. Terror-stricken, I ran to the bathroom and saw that I was, again, bleeding. Then, as I sat on the toilet, there was an even larger gush of blood, and I immediately burst into tears of horror. I screamed for Ty, and he ran to me. I told him what had happened, and he called the doctor's office again. They told me to go to the emergency room.

We had to take CT with us, and he was amazingly brave. He sat quietly in a chair while the doctors and nurses at the hospital worked with me. He was scared, I could tell, but he didn't cry or panic. He was just very quiet.

Another ultrasound, a very in-depth ultrasound, was performed. The baby's heartbeat was still there, still looking good. However, after looking carefully at the images, the radiologist determined that the placenta had torn away from the uterine wall, very slightly. Otherwise, things looked relatively stable. I was told to rest until my regular doctor called me.

When I did hear from my doctor, she told me that there wasn't really anything that could be done. In the first trimester, if I was going to miscarry, it was going to happen, no matter what. She did, however, offer to give me weekly ultrasounds until we felt like things were okay.

For the next 3 weeks, the regular ultrasounds were very comforting. The baby looked great, the bleeding around the placenta had gone away, and the doctor said she felt like we could go back to regular 3 week intervals between visits.

Three weeks later, I went to my first normal visit. CT and Ty were both with me. The doctor measured me, and felt around, making sure everything was okay. Then she pulled out the little machine that detects the baby's heartbeat, allowing you to listen to it. She couldn't find a heartbeat. She checked in many different locations, but no heartbeat. She reassured us, "The baby could just be moving around too much to get a reading. Let's take an ultrasound."

We went back to the ultrasound room, and the doctor searched carefully. She found the baby, but something was very wrong. Where once there had been constant movement, all was now perfectly still. Where there had been a fluttering heartbeat, there was emptiness. I felt my own heart shatter when my doctor whispered hoarsely, "There's no heartbeat. I'm so sorry."

As my eyes overflowed with tears, Ty's low, quiet voice could be heard from the corner: "Is there a way you can find out when the baby's heart stopped?" The doctor nodded, measured the baby, and determined that the baby had died at around 12 weeks. Within a week of my last ultrasound.

I went in the very next evening for a D and C--which is where they dialate you and clean out the uterus, so the mother doesn't have to go through the cramping and bleeding when the body finally expels the fetus.
It was just supposed to be a 30 minute, outpatient procedure. Unfortunately, something was once again very wrong.

I remember waking up from the anesthesia with a pounding headache. I heard the nurse, sitting next to my bed, talking to someone on the phone about how I would have to stay in the hospital overnight because something had gone wrong during the surgery. It was later that I found out the whole story.

During the D and C, I had started bleeding. Bleeding is normal of course, but the normal amount of blood lost during this procedure is around 300 mL. I bled out approximately 1300-1500 mL. It was all they could do to get my blood pressure high enough to keep me alive.

Poor Ty. Two and a half hours after I'd been wheeled away from him and into surgery, the doctor came to him in the waiting room and pulled him into a smaller, private room. She was hesitant to begin, but she finally said: "Well, it's touch and go right now, but we think she's going to make it." She then told him what had happened, adding: "It's just a good thing that she chose the D & C, because if she'd chosen to expel the baby herself, she never would have survived the ambulance ride to the hospital."

After I'd woken up, they wheeled me into my room for the night. There was Ty, sitting against the far wall, his face as white as a sheet. I've never seen him so afraid before, or since. He walked up to me, carefully, and kissed me. He was being very quiet, very distant. I think he was still in shock. Ty said he needed to get home to CT and put him to bed.

It was the first night I'd ever spent away from my son, and I missed him terribly. Ty called me before putting CT to bed, and let me talk to him. I told him I loved him and that I'd see him the next day, doing everything in my power to keep him from hearing the tears in my voice. During my overnight stay in the hospital, I had to have 2 blood transfusions. Then I had to take regular doses of iron for several weeks afterward.

The next morning I took a shower, and as I was brushing my hair in the mirror, my doctor came in. She looked very surprised that I was up and about already, but she was happy to see that I was doing well. She filled me in on the rest of the surgery, and told me I could check out that day.

Ty brought CT with him when he came to pick me up. CT promptly climbed into the bed with me, and my entire body filled with warmth at the sight of him. I smiled as I held my beautiful son in my arms. Between him and Ty over the next few weeks, I found a way through those darkest days.

As painful as this was for our little family, it was also the catalyst behind a very important decision. It was because of this loss that Ty and I finally decided to take an enormous leap of faith and go back to college. If we hadn't lost that baby, we would never have taken such a bold and frightening step.

After such an experience, we both knew that it was now or never.

Of course, life has an amazing way of bringing joy out of pain. Within 5 months of the miscarriage, I was pregnant again with our angel daughter. Life moves onward.

But now you see why "Invictus" speaks to me so powerfully. Pain and sorrow are a part of life. It's what we choose to do with it that makes us who we truly are.

[Insert Post Title Here Because I Can't Think of One]

1) So...I've decided to create an award. No, it will not have any special rules. Okay, maybe one...but nothing too daunting I hope. It's just my way of expressing appreciation for my fellow bloggers. Yep. That's how nice I am. I haven't put it all together yet, but let's just say it will be making its appearance soon, so keep your eyes open! (Also, I am currently accepting bribes to help me choose the lucky bloggers who will be this award's first recipients!)
2) We took our son school shopping today. He's now the proud owner of a new "Phineas and Ferb" backpack, some nice new school clothes, and two new pairs of shoes. It's strange how quickly shopping can wear me out. Yes, I do occasionally get bitten by the "shopping bug" and enjoy a few hours of perusing and purchasing, but overall...it just makes me feel exhausted. [However, despite the tired-ness, tonight I did get a new pair of Converse Chuck slip-on shoes! They were on clearance! Woot!]
3) Poor Ty has been in misery lately. I don't mean that he's been in bed, howling for sympathy. That's just not his style. He's a real trooper, going about his usual business, but he's in a lot of pain. What is the cause of this pain, you ask? The dear man had one of his teeth pulled.

He had the offending molar filled back when we were first married, but the filling actually fell out just a few years later. It's been bothering him ever since, and he finally went in to try and get it fixed with a root canal. Sadly, the tooth was broken beyond any help, and he had to have it extracted. The resulting wound is taking its sweet time to heal though, so he has to suffer until it's done torturing him. Here's hoping that that will be soon!
4) Last but not least in this fit of rambling, I have made a prediction for the future of "America's Got Talent."
For those of you that don't know, Piers Morgan and Howie Mandel have been going head to head in an all-out verbal and mental brawl pretty much ever since Howie joined the Judges' panel. However, I think last night's show took their quiet war to a whole new level.

Last night, while watching the "Wild Card" episode, where the judges brought back 4 of their favorite overlooked acts for a second chance, Ty and I clearly saw what must have been something very near Piers' breaking point.

Howie brought back this RIDICULOUS act that was clearly not going to go through to the next round, simply because he KNEW that it would completely piss Piers off. Well, his diabolical plan worked flawlessly. It was as I watched Piers writhing in agony during this act's performance, with Howie watching Piers and laughing fit to burst that I made my prediction.

I turned to Ty and said: "You know, I think that it won't be long before 'America's Got Talent' breaks new ground with Piers Morgan..."

Ty, as though reading my mind, finished for me: "You mean by having the first ever publicly televised murder?"
I nodded, "You nailed it on the head!"
We both laughed a little, even though in my mind it is a very real concern. I mean, I know that in a lot of those reality type shows, even the smallest rivalries are trumped up far beyond truth for dramatic entertainment purposes. I really do know that. However...I just can't convince myself that the hatred between Piers and Howie is anything but very real. They try to gloss it over as best they can, but their pure, unadulterated animosity is pretty hard to miss.
Either way, just watch and see if I'm wrong. In the next year or so, I'd be willing to bet that Piers Morgan will either quit "America's Got Talent", or he'll go completely postal and brutally murder Howie Mandel on live television.

Personally, I think it's a toss up.

A Challenge...

Some of you might remember this post from a few months ago. What most of you probably don't know is that Doug from "I Like Cheese" issued a challenge to me after reading that post:
"Your next writing assignment is a list for people older than you. "
I know. What an evil taskmaster, right?
Well, I have to publicly proclaim that despite my best efforts, I just can't come up with anything to complete this assignment. The list I gave in my older post was the work of several years. That level of brilliance takes time!
Therefore, I am issuing a challenge to my wonderful readers: Help me make this list of nicknames for people older than me. (I'm 29, so we're talking ages 30 and above!)

Who is up to the task? Let me know, and I will gladly collaborate with you to create this post for Doug, so he won't send his cheese monsters after me. (Oh yeah, they exist, and he is NOT afraid to use them! What do you think happened to Lindsey Lohan?) Help!

PS: I'm officially at 25 Readers now! Happy Dance! :)

End of Summer Random Ramblings...

The Summer is nearly over. I'm not sure how I feel about this.
I have very much enjoyed the last 3 1/2 months of having nothing to worry about but spending time with my adorable kids and reading as many books as I can cram into my few unoccupied hours. In just a couple of weeks, I'll be back in school again, and all that leisure will be gone until December. I often feel so guilty being a mother AND a full-time student because my thoughts are always so scattered, and often preoccupied with homework and everything that I need to be getting done for school. I sometimes feel as though I'm not giving my kids all the attention they deserve.
But I also feel so...alive when I'm going to school. Yes I'm a nerd, and I'm proud of it too. I LOVE my classes. I love learning and growing, and knowing that I am finally working toward something that has always meant so much to me. I'm addicted to education. I want to go on and complete graduate school through a doctorate degree. I. Love. It.
And...now that I have officially graduated with an Associate Degree in General Studies, (graduated with University Honors, thank you very much), I feel really motivated to finish my Bachelor's Degree. I'm halfway there! It also helps that I've finally settled on a major, and I intend to really stick with it this time. (Although if I did change my mind again, Ty would have something to laugh about for months to come!)

What is the final verdict on my major, you ask? A Bachelor of Science in Psychology with a double minor in Communications and Neuroscience. Yep. Wish me luck!
Our son will also be starting school on the same day as his parents. He'll be going to 1st grade. This means he will be gone ALL DAY LONG. It's so weird to think about this. I mean, I rarely see him during the day because he's always out playing with friends anyway, but this feels different somehow. It doesn't help that I will literally be putting his life into the hands of people I barely know.
He's going to be having lunch at school for the first time in his life, and he has a severe peanut allergy. Sending him to school, knowing that he will be in a cafeteria surrounded by kids with peanut butter sandwiches, peanut butter cookies, and who knows what other peanut products scares me half to death. Yes, he will have an epi-pen at school with him. And yes he knows how to avoid peanuts, but still I worry.
He's my son, and he means the world to me. I just can't handle the idea of something happening to him when I'm not there to protect him. (In case you couldn't tell, I am a paranoid, overprotective mother. But seriously, who can afford NOT to be like that these days?)
Okay, I think I'm done rambling for now. This is just all of the stuff that has been on my mind lately. Thanks for your patience. We now return you to your regularly scheduled weekend. :)

A Brief Review of "Cowboys and Aliens"...

When I saw the first preview, I believe my thoughts ran along these lines: "What the crap? What a stupid concept for a movie! Have they seriously become THAT desperate for movie topics that they've just started mashing up random genres by drawing them out of a hat?" You know, something like that. Let's just say that "Cowboys and Aliens" was NOT on my list of "must see" Summer films.
As I've watched the previews for this movie over the last few months, I've grown increasingly curious, but still not really all that interested. However, when Ty suggested tonight that we find a babysitter for the kids and go see "Cowboys and Aliens", I jumped at the chance. I didn't object to the idea of seeing that particular movie and come on, one-on-one date nights for Ty and me are few and far between these days.

So we called my mom, who graciously agreed to watch the kids for a couple of hours. I sat down in my seat at the theater with few expectations for this film.

I find that that is the key to enjoying most movies: Don't go in with any expectations whatsoever, good or bad. Just sit in your seat with an open mind, and let yourself be entertained. (Admittedly, there are still going to be some movies that just suck, no matter how open minded you try to be. So take this piece of advice with a grain of salt.)
Anyway...as I watched this movie with my mind wide open and my mouth full of Raisinets, I found myself enjoying it. The plot was interesting, the acting was excellent, and there was enough action to keep the story moving but not so much that I was completely freaked out by it. It was a very good movie.
Overall, I'd say "Cowboys and Aliens" is definitey worth seeing at least once. Ty and I have no plans to rush out and buy the Blu-Ray when it becomes available, but it was enjoyable and entertaining. And, just for the record, I think the ending easily lends itself to being a decent set up for a sequel, so keep your eyes and ears open for "Cowboys and Aliens 2"!
I won't describe the details of the movie to you, for fear of spoilers. However, I will say this for those of you that are curious: Think "Independence Day" with horses and cowboy hats.

And there you have it. If you're looking for an entertaining movie to go and see this week, "Cowboys and Aliens" is a pretty darn good choice.
Happy Friday! :)

A Mystical Fairytale for You...

Once upon a time, a little family went to a campground for 4 days. It was filled with trees, ninja mosquitos, unstable gravel walkways, rattlesnakes, and mud puddles. After this 4 day period, the 6 year old son and his family went home with nothing worse than a sunburn and a few scrapes on his knees and hands. Very normal for a 6 year old boy.
Then, after driving all night and arriving home at 3 AM, this family slept in a bit. The mother woke up at around 10:30 and went downstairs to a strange sight.
She noticed a partial roll of toilet paper on the kitchen counter that was spotted with blood. Next to that roll of toilet paper was a box of band-aids. She looked up from this odd sight to see the boy's Epi-Pen partially protruding from its protective case. She tried to push it back inside the case and close it up, but it wouldn't budge. She pulled out the Epi-Pen and inspected it, and then she noticed why it couldn't fit back into its case. It had been deployed.
She felt a little chill settle into the pit of her stomach as she started putting the puzzle pieces together: Bloody toilet paper, band-aids, and a clearly deployed Epi-Pen.
She called her son upstairs from the TV room and asked him the obvious question: "CT, did you mess with your Epi-Pen this morning?"

He looked up at her and said: "No."
She then confronted him full-on: "CT, I found a roll of toilet paper with blood on it, a box of band-aids and this [holding up the Epi-Pen] has obviously been set off. What happened?"
CT knew he was caught, and admitted: "Well, the needle sort of went through my nail."
The mother looked at his hand, and sure enough, the Epi-Pen's needle had gone all the way through his thumb and even partially through his forefinger.

Yes, CT had apparently woken up that morning, gotten himself breakfast, gotten a hold of his Epi-Pen, took out the safety peg at the end, placed his hand too near the needle end, and hit the kitchen counter with it, activating the spring-loaded needle and sending it through two of his fingers. Then, instead of coming to his parents for help, he had tried to cover the whole thing up. He mopped up his own blood, wrapped his wounds in band-aids, and tried to put the Epi-Pen back into its case. He even replaced it on the microwave where it had been before the whole incident took place. The mother, though appalled by his attempts at deception, couldn't help but be at least a little impressed by his survivial instincts.
I mean think about it: A six year old boy hadn't screamed or cried at all when a huge needle went all the way through his thumb and finger. He had simply pulled out the needle and patched himself up as best he could.
Either way, the mother consulted the boy's father about what had happened, and they agreed that he should be taken to the Instacare to make sure everything was OK. The doctor assured the mother that CT would be fine. She could then relax a little, and give CT a proper chewing out for that morning's events. She can only hope that he has learned an important lesson and WILL NOT be messing with his Epi-Pen again.
The End
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Personally I just can't figure out how that kid made it through four whole days of running around a campground without any major injuries and then, within 7 hours of being home he puts a massive needle all the way through his thumb! Seriously, what the crap?!?!?

There's No Place Like Home...

Perhaps some of you have noticed that I've been rather...absent over the last few days. Or not. Anyway, I'm back now and I figured I could offer an explanation about where I've been, [whether you want to know or not].
I was in Idaho. Oh yes, you read that right. Mystical, magical, exotic Idaho. Apparently there's a tiny little town called Idaho City, and up in the mountains there is a campground called "Camp Pinetop." It was there, among the trees of Camp Pinetop in Idaho that I spent 4 days in the company of my extended family on my dad's side for our family reunion.
Grandma, Grandpa, Aunts, Uncles and cousins. I was surrounded by family. No I'm not complaining about that because my family is amazing. My siblings, cousins and I have all grown up spending time together every summer at our Grandparents' house, or at bigger family reunions. Now many of us are fully grown adults, some of us with spouses and children of our own. Our kids now play together at reunions. It's like my Grandma has always told us: Friends come and go, but family is forever.
One of the people who came to this reunion is my cousin JK. I haven't seen her in about 5 years, so I was really happy to see her there. When we were younger, JK and I were the best of friends. Every summer, from the time we were in elementary school through high school graduation, we were practically joined at the hip. We did everything together, from the moment my family arrived at Grandma's house until the moment we went home. And then, between reunions, we wrote letters (yes, letters, you know, those things with the paper, pens, envelopes and stamps?) on a weekly basis. I've actually kept all of her letters from those years, and while catching up this past weekend, I found out that she's kept all of my letters too.
It was interesting, seeing JK after all this time. We have both changed in many ways, but mostly we're very much the same as we were as kids. I loved seeing her there, and I really hope it won't be another 5 years before we meet again.
Camp Pinetop was a bit...well...rustic for my tastes. There were individual cabins with bunk beds that we slept in. There was no heat, A/C, or electricity in these little cabins. It was hard for me to get used to sleeping in a little cabin that had only screens in the windows and on the door. The first night we were there, I jumped at every rustle of the leaves, and every buzzing of bugs outside. I slept terribly.

Waking up the next morning, I felt the same way I always felt after a sleepover when I was a teenager. You know, that groggy, fluttery, exhausted feeling that can only come from getting less than 4 hours of sleep? Meeting up with everyone at breakfast though, I actually found that most of my fellow adult family members had slept as terribly as I had. Fortunately, it got better after that first night, and I was able to sleep reasonably well.
Our son, CT had the time of his life up at that campground. He was surrounded by kids who were his age, or one or two years younger. He spent nearly every moment of every day there running outside in the sun, hiking, swimming, and just being free. (As free as his paranoid mother would allow him to be, anyway. I'm actually pretty proud of how reasonable I was about letting him play. Ty and I barely saw him for more than a couple of hours per day--and that's including the time he spent asleep.) Of course, he found a way to slip and fall in the mud several times, dangerously depleting his already limited supply of clothes that I'd packed for the trip, but we managed because I'm an awesome paranoid mom that packed extra clothes. Ha! Take THAT mud puddles!
Our daughter spent the entire trip surrounded by admirers. She was practically the belle of the ball. Everyone adored her. There wasn't a single person--adult, teenager, or child--that wasn't immediately taken in by her charms. She spent almost every moment toddling around the air-conditioned lodge, gibbering in her 19-month-old way, or carried in the arms of some adoring aunt, uncle, grandparent, parent, or cousin. All in all, she was a hit [which, frankly, came as no surprise to her parents].
Ty and I spent much of our time talking to relatives, playing card games, chasing our daughter around, and being bitten by mutant, ninja mosquitos. I'm not kidding, these critters were vicious, evil spawns of the Devil! It seemed like no matter where I was or what I was doing, I was being drained of blood by one of those little vampire bugs! In fact, one of the most prominent souveniers I brought home with me were about 15 painfully itchy mosquito bites. On my neck, arms, legs, feet, back, AND...the ones I'm most confused about: ABOUT 7 FREAKING MOSQUITO BITES ON MY BUTT!!! How in the ever-loving HECK did that happen? You know what...don't answer that...
We were all scheduled to clean up and leave on Wednesday morning, but on Tuesday after dinner and the main family activity Ty and I decided that it would work out best for us and our kids to just leave that night. We talked to my Mom, letting her know our plans, and then we packed up, cleaned out our cabin and the pool house (our share of the overall campground clean up), and drove away just before 10 PM. (Ty had taken a nap that afternoon, so he felt equal to the task of driving the 5 hours to get home.)
Anyway, we figured that driving at night would be perfect because the kids could just fall asleep in the van and wake up at home. Our daughter dozed off within 20 minutes, and CT was asleep another ten minutes after that. Our diabolical plan was coming together beautifully! And then, after an hour or so, the baby woke up. She was desperately trying to wriggle free of her car seat, and in her sleepy state, she didn't understand why she couldn't move. So she expressed her frustration with the usual screeching. I climbed into the back seat and did by best to help her, but all I could do was get her to doze off for a few minutes before she would wake up crying again.
After about an hour of this, she woke up her brother, and he couldn't get back to sleep. So finally, Ty and I decided that it would just be best if I got back into the front seat and let the baby cry herself to sleep. It was one of the saddest things in the world, listening to her cry like that for an hour, but finally, finally she fell asleep and CT was able to go to sleep again too.
We got home just after 3 AM, and I was thrilled and relieved to be there. I revelled in the luxury of being in my own house, free of mosquitos and other such pests. I loved being back in my own soft bed, and knowing that my kids were in their own beds, safe and sound. It was just good to be home again.
I've basically decided that I'm a fuddy-duddy though. I mean, I like going on trips and taking some time away, but in the end, home is by far my favorite place to be.
All in all, I enjoyed the family reunion (as always) and I look forward to the next one. It's just good to be home again.