The day I almost safety pinned my keister

So I have this pair of pants where the button has fallen off and in its place I have a safety pin. I know I should either fix the button or I shouldn’t wear the pants. However, this girl doesn't sew much and it’s hard to find pants that fit. That combination tells you why I wear the pants the way I do. Now, I tried wearing them as is and found out the hard way that the zipper keeps falling down without something at the top providing closure. Hence the safety pin.

My normal “bathroom routine” with these pants is where I ran into my problem. I usually unclip the safety pin and leave it open but still attached to the pants. I’m usually really careful to keep half an eye on the pin so I don’t accidentally scratch the snot out of my leg. Today…well, I wasn’t so careful.

Today after I took care of business and was putting myself back together…no pin. I looked around on the ground but didn’t see it. I started to carry on with my day and just figured I’d have to be extra cautious about my zipper when it dawned on me. The zipper came into the stall with me. It’s not on the floor. That means that there is an opened safety pin pulled up inside my pants. Well, THAT can’t end up well!

I dropped drawer again and gave everything a good shake. I then heard the “clink” of metal hitting the floor and there was my safety pin.

I can’t believe I almost safety pinned my keister!

9 commandments of the bathroom

I'm looking around my computer for a file. I'm not finding the file but a whole bunch of other fun things, like my "9 Commandments of the Bathroom" I created in 2009 for our girls. Cracks. Me. Up.

The 9 Commandments of the Bathroom

 

1. Thou shalt keep thy bathroom clean for it is true, four young ladies must use it daily. Also, guests to our home must use it for Kenny’s bathroom is disgusting. Thus it is so.

2. Thou shalt use toothpaste to clean one’s teeth. Toothpaste should only be on the toothbrush bristles, your teeth, tongue and gums. One should not feel the need to decorate the counter, the faucet, the soap, the Kleenex box, the hair spray, etc. If some toothpaste should go astray, it must be cleaned up. Thus it is so.

3. Thou shalt hang up used towels and washcloths on the many hooks in thy bathroom. Used towels and washcloths shall not be wadded up and stuffed inside the cabinets, left on the floor (of the bathroom or thy sleeping chamber), or on the counter. When washcloths become crusty, it is past time for cleansing. Thus it is so.

4. Thou shalt not leave thy dirty clothes in the bathroom. Neither the inner nor the outer room. Dirty clothes shall be taken to thy sleeping chamber and placed inside the dirty clothes basket. Thus it is so

5. Thou shalt let thy mother know BEFORE one runs out of shampoo, deodorant, toothpaste, toilet paper. Thus it is so.

6. Trash shall be taken out weekly or before it overfloweth onto the floor, whichever cometh firsteth. Thus it is so

7. Bathroom users who are in the midst of their monthly shall deposit the dirties into a separate plastic grocery bag and that must be disposed of into the trash outside DAILY!! You shall incur the wrath of the mother if she sees (or smells) that you are not doing so. To do so would be not wise. Thus it is so.

8. Thou shalt put clean, folded towels away as soon as they are placed in the bathroom. They shall not stay on the floor or counter. Thus it is so.

9. Thou shalt turn the lights off when you leave. Only the lamp shalt remain on. Thus it is so.

 

THUS IT IS SO!

 

My apologies, Mr. Gaither!

My sincerest apologies to Mr. Gaither and his Homecoming people for the sneeriness of my attitude. Last night I went to the Gaither’s Homecoming Christmas concert at the Gwinnett arena. We go every year with the church. It’s funny…every year I sneer and make snide remarks and huff and puff my way to the concert and every year I’m absolutely blown away as some of the performances (Isaacs and David Phelps…I looking at you!!!). I think it’s the banter that gets me. Don’t get me wrong, some of it is cute and funny but it’s so rehearsed. They do a good job to try to make it NOT seem so rehearsed but things run too, well, smoothly for the bobbles to be real bobbles. But then I don’t like Duck Dynasty for the same reason. I know there are lots of people who watch and enjoy the show and find them to be genuinely hilarious. And they may very well be hilarious…the first time they cut a remark. However, by the time they film it? It’s rehearsed and forced and someone like me just can’t get around that. Which is strange because I am truly so easily amused. My kids (well, my 14-yr old, mainly) get embarrassed because of the things that crack me up.

Case in point, a couple weeks ago Jo and I are at the pediatrician. We are in the waiting room and they have Sesame Street on the TV. Jo’s texting on her phone and I’m playing Candy Crush (don’t judge). Anyhow, it’s an Elmo section of S.S. and the following busted through my Candy Crush zone and tickled me. Elmo was talking to a fish or a turtle or some creature like that, I didn’t stop to check, and he says, “What do you do? Elmo doesn’t know much about you other than you swim around and say ‘forsooth’ a lot.” Okay, so right now at this very moment, that doesn’t sound funny. But at that moment in time in the pediatrician’s office? Pure comedy magic. So I’m cracking up (and I don’t laugh softly) and in my defense, I did NOT snort  (it happens when I laugh sometimes) but Jo was mortified. Of course, once I explained, and I did the Elmo voice, she softly laughed, too. Softly. She takes after her father.

Kenny and I can be watching the same show and I’m rolling around laughing at something and he’ll just be looking at the screen. When I ask him if he didn’t get the joke (it happens) he’ll say something like, “No, I found it funny. But just not funny enough to laugh hysterically at” at which point he gives me “the look.” <sigh>

Sheesh!

Photo-bombed!

Okay, so if you know me at all, you know that I love a good "fart" picture. What is a fart picture, you may ask? Well, it's a photo where at least one person is smiling away and the other(s) in the photo are making a face. So, someone (usually the smiler) has let one loose and the other(s) are reacting it. See? A fart picture! (Why, yes, I'm 8 years old mentally. Thank you for pointing that out.)

A recent photo funny that has gained popularity is photo-bombing, wherein while someone's getting their photo taken, someone else jumps in, or pops up in, the photo. A good one cracks me up. This is one from the other night. We were out to dinner with friends and I had gotten my hands on my friends' baby and asked Meg to take a picture of our preciousness. My other friend Barbie photo-bombed this photo spectacularly. I can't look at it without cracking up. Perfection!!!

Warning: Brain Fart!

Ask me how I’m doing. Go ahead, ask! Well, since you’ve asked, I’ll tell you. I’m in the middle of a morning-long brain fart. I’ll give you an example of how my brain’s working/not-working today. Check out the photo below.  

 

 

I was going through the laptop checkout sheets and matching them with an Excel spreadsheet of who had what computers to make sure that both lists were the same (there was a burble in the system and some teachers didn’t get the machine they were assigned). I’d started checking them about a month ago and vaguely remembered making a mark on the sheets I’d checked but I couldn’t find my mark. I did, however,  wonder what in the world the “28” that was penciled in by the machine’s serial number meant. So I started the project over. I got about 10 sheets in when I realized that the “28” was actually my “TS” mark! Yep, I’d penciled that in and didn’t even recognize my own handwriting!

 

And THAT just about sums up how I’m doing today! J

Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!

From an email I wrote to a friend:

Okay, just so you know. I consider ourselves to be close enough that if you see that I have something in my teeth, or my fly is down or there's a booger hanging out of my nose...that you would tell me. Okay?! What leads me to this soul-baring revelation?

(Sorry if this gets gross.) This morning when I getting ready for the day and was cleaning my ear I noticed some goop coming from the back of my ear. Up until then, there had only been a little puss coming from the front. I cleaned it up, put the antibiotic cream on it and went on my merry little way.

So just a couple minutes ago I had this "thunk" and went to the bathroom and wet down some Kleenex and held it to the back of my ear and sure enough I saw a little goop so I did the best I could at cleaning it up with cold water and Kleenex.

Now I'm not a big "take pictures of myself in the bathroom" kind of gal so when the thought to use my phone to take a picture of the back of my ear came to me, I decided that Someone upstairs was trying to tell me something. Oh. My. Word. Thank the Lord He did. The entire back of my ear was packed with a greenish-yellow crust. I hightailed it to the main building where they have hot water in the bathrooms and did a hot compress and cleaned off the back of my ear and will probably now check my ear periodically (Anal Girl here probably do it every 10 min) to make sure there is no build up.

So as I'm giggling and grossing myself out, I realize that the back of my ear probably looked nasty last night, too.

Hence this email. You have my permission to let me know when there's something whack-a-doodle including, but not limited to, crusty ears, boogers, bad breath, something in my hair,etc. without worrying about embarrassing or offending me. Okay?! Cuz that's how much I love you and trust you!

 

So, I was right. I am checking my ear about every 10 minutes. It involved using my phone to try to take pictures. I am so grossed out. There is a crusty scab in the middle of my ear that is green....GREEN! B-O-O-G-E-R Green! There is no hot water in this stupid pod where my office is located so if I want to do a hot compress to loosen the booger green scab on the back of my ear, I have to traipse up the hill PAST PEOPLE, including little kids who like to point out that you have a booger green scab behind your ear, to the main building's adult bathroom. It located, unfortunately, by the front office so one can only go in there so many times before they start giving you the wonky eye.

 

I still can't believe I poke a freakin' hole in my own ear. But...on the plus side, I may be able to sleep on that side tonight. It's tender, but it ain't screaming at me anymore!

Dumb and Dumber

Okay, so I'm not proud of what I've done. I feel like an idiot, to be quite frank. I do not know what possessed me to do it but rest assured, I am paying the price to the MAX!

So let me give you a back story...and then another back story. Otherwise this will REALLY make me look like I need a brain scan...instead of just looking like a doofus.

Backstory 1...I have double-pierced ears plus a cartilage piercing in my left ear. I've been thinking for some time that I'd like to get a third level to the piercings but sitting in the middle of WalMart just isn't my style.

Backstory 2...Jo had her ear cartilage pierced a couple years ago. Unfortunately, a keylloid (spelling) developed and we had her remove the earring with the promise that she could get the other ear's cartilage pierced after sports were over. This actually didn't happen until about 3 weeks ago. She was happy, I was the benevolent momma. Then it got infected. We tried to clean it with hydrogen peroxide and swab it with triple antibiotic ointment, but, nope. I was red and inflamed and not happy. So Jo's on a 10-day power antibiotic and I have a piercing earring. That's where my demise began.

So here it is last Thursday. We leave the next morning to take Lorie to American University (sniff, sniff...but I digress). Kenny3 has driven the 2 hours from Point University to be at the house for Lorie's last night with the family (totally bawl moment...again, I digress). I don't know what got into me. I really don't. I wish I could go back and pinpoint what made me do it. I was talking with Kenny3 as  I cleaned out my purse and saw that piercing earring. While we had the conversation (NOT about ear piercing), I rinsed it off in hydrogen peroxide and then proceeded to jam it through my cartilage about halfway between my 2nd piercing in the lobe and my current cartilage piercing. Brilliant, right?! Wrong! Halfway to Washington, D.C. I knew I'd made a horrible mistake. I took the earring out and started picking the scabs that formed. (I know...I'm so embarrassed about typing that. Not exactly first aid 101). I suffered with it Friday and Saturday. Saturday night I raided my sister's first aid kit (sorry, Lori!) and grabbed the only thing I could find...some Neosporin spray. I spritzed my ear down Saturday night and all day Sunday, but I was miserable. Monday found me at the Walgreen's clinic with a raging ear infection. I was given the same antibiotic as Jo and a topical antibiotic cream.

Last night I barely got any sleep. For some reason (karma, much?) my body insisted that it wanted to sleep with that ear down. I tried to arrange myself so that my hand took the weight of my head...but no. Add to that indignity, somehow I got restless legs. I didn't get to sleep until 5 a.m. So here I am at work with about 30 minutes of sleep to my name and a load of work to do once I leave school.

And it's all my own fault. I know it. I feel like a major idiot. But I am fully paying the price for my idiocy. My ear is throbbing and looks a mess between the bright redness and the goopy coating of antibiotic.

Oh but the story gets better. When I was talking about it with Jo, she said that the ear didn't stop hurting until a week later. A WEEK?! Course then I realized that the child got her antibiotic Thursday night so she's only been taking it for 3.5 days (and then she says that she's missed two pills) so I'm hoping that tomorrow morning the day will dawn brighter and happier for me and Mr. Ear.

And I'm done with poking holes in my head. I'm 44...better act like it!

A totally Tracy kind of day

Okay, so it's been a Tracy day. It's only 1:28 p.m., but I'm ready to shout "stick a fork in me...I'm done!"

First, the day started with my alarm going off. Normally I wake up at 4:30 a.m. and spend the next 55 minutes in that half sleep thing until about 5 minutes before my alarm rings. I turn off the alarm so I don't have to hear it buzz and then spend the next 5-15 minutes (depending on my mood) fighting with myself that I need to get up and no, I can't take a sick day just because it's morning. So when I sleep until my alarm wakes me...I wake exhausted and confused and that's just not the way to start a day.

Next I had to face a Weight Reality. Now there are two types of Weight Reality. The first is the reality that sets in when you see the number on the scale. I face that every morning of my life. I am now 183.8 lbs. That's over my top weight from last January. The weight that forced me to join my school's Biggest Loser program and helped me to lose 20 pounds (course, it seems I've found it again). But at that weight --which is lighter than I am now-- I was wearing size 18 pants. Right now I'm 183.8 lbs and still in 14s (although the fit and camel-toe of it all should be convincing me to buy some 16s...but I digress). Today the other Weight Reality came to light. I grabbed a sleeveless blouse and broomstick skirt thinking that it would be good for work and the traveling I'm doing after work. Shower taken, undergarments on and shirt goes over my head and clings to my NOT-so-lovely-lady-lumps. Hmmm...not good. Then I attempt to put the skirt on, but that waist is just not gonna stretch to go over my saddlebags and hips. Not today, my friends. And I can't put it on over my head because it gets stuck on my midriff on the way down. So because time is of the essence and my clothing selection is limited because of what had to be packed for my trip this weekend and what is clean...I have on a stained, brown pair of slacks that need desperately to be size bigger with a different colored brown top...cuz brown is a neutral and goes with everything, right? Even a different colored brown. Okay, not really, but it got me out of the closet...so to speak.

So off to school I go. It's proctor time. I'm with the class where the chucker is. This child is so desperate for attention that he sniffles and coughs, clears his throat and blows his nose, turns around in his seat and counts out loud and, yes, he makes himself throw up for attention. He did it yesterday and was gearing up for it this morning. I talked him down today...but he doesn't like me anymore.

Fast forward to after lunch and I'm on the verge of a big project that affects funding for the school

and just need an answer from a bigwig at the County Office level before I get moving on it. I can’t get started on any of the other things on my plate because once you start on those, you gotta finish them, so I decide to do some office sprucing. I cleaned out some files, put some equipment and cables away in the Tech Closet and wiped down everything I could wipe down. And then it hit me. The perfect project.

 

Currently my desk sits in the middle of my office so when you come in you can see all the power cords hanging from my computer down the back of the desk and into the surge protector under my desk. My desk has those holes in it to string the power cords through so you don’t have the ugly cord mess. Well, I do have that ugly cord mess and it has bothered me all year but I didn’t want to take time away from my other duties to do anything about it. See what I mean? It was the perfect project to tackle. Quick and easy (oh, those words haunt me)… today was the day. And that’s where my story took a lefthand turn. In trying to “help” feed the power cords through the hole, into the pocket and then out through the other hole in the kneehole in my desk, I realized that my hand really shouldn’t have been shoved in quite as far as I shoved it, because it wasn’t coming out. So there I stood, in the middle of my office, bent over slightly with my hand stuck in my desk, frantically trying to yank it out. I have my tennis bracelet on that hand which didn’t help matters and the power cord was in there taking up space as well. As I got more and more frantic that I’d have to call someone to help me, it dawned on me that with a good stretch and just slight damage to my hand, I could touch the toolbox. I was able to finagle a screwdriver out of the toolbox and ever so slightly broke my desk to give me the ¼” that I needed to unjam my hand.

 So now I sit at my desk with a nice and neat deskfront, cords neatly tucked through my desk to the surge protector below. I was able to cover up the damage to my desk (until the next person tries to feed their power cords). My hand –and tennis bracelet—are intact with just slight scratches to attest to the panic-filled yanking they bore, and I am able to cover up with coughing most of the uncontrollable laughter that bursts forth when I imagine what my face must have looked like when I realized I was trapped.

 

I'm NOT still trapped in my desk (good); no one walked in on me while I was trapped in my desk (better); and I didn't have to have someone come rescue me (best). Plus, I got a good story out of it...

The hole in question...and yes, if I'd been able to reach my phone,
 I'd have taken a picture of my hand stuck in there!
Thank you very much!

But all in all...it's just a totally Tracy kind of day.

Poo bomb

My Facebook status read, " I didn't ever care to know what would happen if a piece of dog poo fell from about 3 feet in the air and hit a shoe in mid-stride as one hustled a dog outside. But I know now...and I really truly could have lived a rich, full life without that knowledge!" TMI? Maybe. Graphic? Not as graphic as I could have gone. However, as I explained further down in the comments from that status, the answer is that what happens is that the poo explodes into a thousand jillion little poopie pieces. Okay, so that was a little graphic. Be glad there is not Smell in your computer screen. Words CANNOT describe.

We are, as you probably guessed, trying to potty train the dog. Success is limited at best. I'm starting to feel that I need to edit the Borg tagline so it reads, "Success is futile." How many times have I caught that dog mid-squat and ran him out the door only to have him run around the yard for the next hour with no deposits? Well, no deposits until he comes inside and there, "Hoot, there it is!"

I am determined, however, to win the Battle of Poo. I am a worthy opponent, as this Yorkie Terrorist that we have brought into our family will so realize. Everyone in my family already knows, and soon so shall he...I always win.

Fa la!

According to my sister, Fa la! is the new cool "whatever" at my niece's school. I'm totally up on all the cool jargon and am psyched to introduce this to Hightower Trail and Bethel...Fa la! But the truth is, I'm having a Fa la! kind of a day. I know there's things to do, but I can neither come up with them on the spur of the moment, or can't get them done at this exact moment.

For example, I was greeted with the heartstopping email from my MedFlex spending company stating that the orthodontic bill for Meg's braces wasn't approved and we'd have to send a check for $2662 to cover that expenditure within 20 days. Luckily, my fingers and brain still functioned while my heart didn't because I thought to open the receipt that I'd scanned and emailed to them to find out that I'd scanned and emailed a dental bill from 2009!! But, Fa la!, I don't have the orthodontist's bill here at school, so I'll have to wait until I get home to take care that.

Or there the call I need to make to the girlie doctor to make my yearly appointment, but my calendar is at home. I'm not about to make an appointment without my calendar opened in front of me...been there, done that, by the time I'd figured out I'd doublebooked myself and tried to reschedule things...let's just say, Fa la! definitely covers it!!

Work-wise, the only thing on the helpdesk is something that I can't take care of while students are in the classroom otherwise Math Time becomes Tracy Time! Plus the fact that I'm waiting on a Dell tech to show up so I can't wander too far from the office...well, Fa la!

Add to all of this that I stayed up past my "time that let's me fall asleep easily" watching American Idol and then the Olympics, so I'm very sleepy. Managed to get ready on time even though I took an extra 15 minutes to get out of the bed only to find out that Jo had slept through her alarm! Nothing like having to run across the school parking lot with the eyes of the loooong line of car riders watching you to make your morning start off just peachy!

AND, it seems that choosing to eat the school's sloppy joe for lunch may not have been the best choice for my stomach...wish I'd worn a pedometer. I'd've probably logged a mile walking back and forth to the teacher restroom.

Well, all that adds up to a definitive Fa la! Day!

you can take the momma out of the home...

But you can't take the momma out of the woman! So I'm at work and as happens in humans I eventually need to use the facilities. All of the adult restrooms here at school are one-stallers and all are on the classroom halls except for the one off the teacher workroom (which is ALWAYS busy) and the one in the principal's office (which is kinda off-limits). So I'm taking care of business and hear this noise...and it's not coming from me! Now I'm not one of those who likes to use public facilities in the first place. I like to have my own space with my own things and I really like to feel that I can control my surroundings a bit. After all, in my own bathroom I no problem announcing to whoever it is outside the door that, "I'm in the bathroom. Unless someone is about to bleed to death or the house is on fire...LEAVE ME ALONE!" But I've found that that kind of attitude is just not as acceptable in the workplace.

So I'm hearing this noise that somewhat like feet scuffing...not an uncommon sound on kindergarten hall. But I purposely planned this bathroom break for a time when the little crumb-catchers are supposed to safely be in their rooms at naptime! I try to crane my ear to catch more sounds to help discern what it is that I'm hearing while at the same time concentrating on the task at hand so I can leave the room as quickly as possible. And then it hits me...the sink is dripping. That's the sound I heard that caused all this internal ruckus in my head.

Sometimes I just have to shake my head over my own insanity!

Thoughts from the kindergarten hall...

So my "new digs" with this job is a room that is not quite a closet on the kindergarten hall. We're starting our 7th week of school (cuz here in Jaw-ga, we start school in the freakin' summer...but don't get me started on my opinion on having the same school year start date nationwide, which would be after Labor Day, like normal people) so I feel that I've got the "vibe" down here now.

For the first thing, it's very loud down here. Little people like to make noise. The teachers are over-emphasize, over-enunciate, over-everything to make sure these crumb-catchers listen and understand. While we're still in the "getting used to school" days, the kids like to sing loudly in the bathroom. Instead of having one room for boys, one room for girls with multiple receptacles, they have individual rooms that have a small toilet and lowered sink: 4 for the boys and 4 for the girls. When the kids go into the rooms, there's a lovely echo because it's all tile. We get serenaded many times during the week...reminds me of Boo from Monsters, Inc.

Speaking of bathrooms brings me to the second thing I have to get used to here on Kindergarten Hall...the smell. The grout in the bathrooms apparently holds onto things. Depending on how good their aim is, sometimes the overwhelming Habit-Trail smell gets to me. I've put Renuzits in my office, but that doesn't always help. Funny anecdote: Kenny came and visited me a couple weeks ago, so I showed him my new office. Kenny came just inside the door, talked to Lisa and then I walked him back to the car. He asked, "Does Lisa have a problem with B.O.?" She doesn't, I promise...it's the kindergarten bathrooms!

The last thing to get used to is the popularity problem, it's virtually impossible to sit in here with the door shut without feeling claustrophobic (did I mention it's close to being a closet and there are two of us in here?), so that means as the 100+ kindergartens go up and down the hallway, they pop their heads in and say "hi" and some of the more adventurous ones actually come into the room with a "whatcha doin?"

But now I'm listening to the theme song of "The Letter People" which brings back memories of my kindergarten time...waiting for Mr. T with the Taaaaaaaaaaall Teeth to be introduced. "Words are made of Letter People. A, B, C, D...follow me!"

Rock on (rock on)!

So last night I went to my first non-Christian concert since the Go-Go's concert in the late 80s. Def Leppard/Poison/Cheap Trick came to a local amphitheatre. Let's jump back to the beginning of this saga...

Last Spring one of the teachers who is friends with Jeanmarie (the school's bookkeeper) sent an email saying that Poison and Def Leppard were coming to Atlanta. She knew I was an 80s band kind of girl. I sent an email saying how neat that was and that we ought to go together...not thinking about the fact that these people actually GO to concerts! :) So the next thing you know I'm part of a group of 6 women who are forking over $85 to get tickets when they came on-sale. I figured that it was the perfect 40th birthday present to myself.

Fast forward six months...I'm no longer in the office and the teacher who brought this up in the first place is at another school. But we all met up in the school's parking lot to drive together. Should have realized how auspicious this would be when some of the tickets were lost. Jeanmarie and the one teacher each bought 3 tickets (Ticketmaster would only you purchase 4 tickets at a time. They each bought 3 figuring we'd trade seats out with other concertgoers so we could sit together). Jeanmarie's dad passed away a week ago, so she gave her tickets to the other teacher in case she didn't make it back. And those were the tickets that came up missing. After about 45 minutes of angst and phone calls to the teachers family asking them to look through pocketbooks and gym bags and the family van, it was brought up that Ticketmaster would give us new tickets since JM bought them via credit card. So she called Ticketmaster and the cloud over the night magically lifted.

After an "interesting" drive to the amphitheatre, we found parking and got to see females using the parking lot as a restroom. (I ask you, what kind of friend lets you cop a squat out in the open without find a jacket or other way to block you from about 5,000 sets of eyes? Or at least points out a convenient patch of trees 10 yards away?) Hmmm...well, since the concert started at 7 and it was 7:02 when we parked, we threaded our way through the parking lot to the Will-Call window to pick up the rest of the tickets. The people-watching was in full swing and so was the boozing. Gotta question the choice of not only attire but shoes for those women who KNEW they would be getting plastered before they even walked (tottered, stumbled, whatever) through the gates.

Tickets in hand, we got through the line at the gate and found our seats. Cheap Trick had about 3 songs left in their set when we got there. We ended up being able to sit together because of empty seats. Funnily enough I saw a couple from the church. I knew they were going to be there, they ended up being 2 rows in front of me. Kind of glad they were in front of me instead of vice-versa cuz I'm well aware of what I look like when I dance. That kind of sight might irrevocably change the way they viewed their pastor's wife. Ha ha.

Cheap Trick ended and they had about a 10-15 window to set u for Poison. I gotta tell you, the Poison set was full of C.C. Deville. I like guitar, but hmmmm. However, that man should really give a shout-out to his dentist. His teeth are amazingly white! I could see his teeth almost better than anything else on the stage!

Def Leppard came out after a quick stagechange and the atmosphere got just electric. The hair on my arms stood out. I couldn't believe I was actually there doing the big-butt White girl dance, but I was. I'm truly surprised that my arms, legs and feet don't ache and I'm REALLY surprised that I actually have a voice!

As truly amazing as I found the concert and seeing these people LIVE that I've only seen on video, I gotta say that the concertgoers gave me almost as much of a show. There are a lot of people my age who really should know better than to drink as much as they do in a public area...especially dressed as they chose to do. You KNOW that in their heads they think they look goooooood and sexy and a heck of a lot younger than they are. The ladies behind me were taking pictures of bad outfit choices and shared them with us during one of the set changes (thankfully, we weren't in the mix) so I know I wasn't the only one thinking this. There were two couples sitting in the row in front of us that were the most, ahem, entertaining. They started the night as two distinct couples, the women slow dancing for the men or on the men, or turned around snuggled up to them...ick, ick, ick. Some time during the first couple Poison songs, the ladies traded off gentlemen and then traded back. Some time in the last couple Poison songs, both ladies managed to drop their beers. The two men looked at each other, threw back what was left in their beer cups and off they and the women went. The rest of of breathed easier (and didn't have to block that part of our peripherel vision anymore...MY EYES!) because Def Leppard was up next and we were all determined to enjoy every second of that set. Two songs in one couple (which was the same man/woman that left) came back. The man sat in a chair right in front of me and leaned back so that he was kind of laying down. The woman sat on his lap and performed a dunken lap dance followed by laying face up on the man as he proceeded to feel up her chest and she texted. They finally...finished (???) and got up to dance drunkenly together again. The other couple came back two songs before the end of D.L. set. Absolutely bizarre.

Def Leppard finished their set with Pour Some Sugar on Me and then came out and did Rock of Ages for their encore. Then it was time to try to get the six of us back to the car. We managed to get there really quickly (probably because we WEREN'T drunk and could weave in and out of bodies without falling over or getting dizzy). However, it took us 30 minutes from the time we got to the car until we hit the blacktop. Considering if the car had been pointing the other way we could have DRIVEN onto the laptop, that was pretty bad. But with Jeanmarie's master skills behind the wheel, we made it back to Conyers by 12:45 and I was in the house relating my night to Kenny.

Oh, and how did my husband take my girls night out? Well, his first text to me asked if I was stoned yet. ("Why yes I am" was my response even though the smoke that got blown in my face was strictly cigarette, no doobies anywhere I saw). He second text was "Do you still have your bra on? Which prompted Jeanmarie to ask if Kenny knew who I was with (My answer to Kenny was, "I hang down to my belly button without my bra...not exactly how to bring the sexy back!").

Right now, it's back to being something "not real" but I know I did it. I have my ticket and I have a couple blurry pictures I took on my phone. I also have some sneakers that smell like beer.

Now to talk Kenny into taking me to the Journey/Night Ranger concert in September! :)

You should be dancin', yeah!

So I'm doing laundry the other day and I walk into my room with my arms full of clean laundry to put on the bed and sort. As I come into the room I catch Johanna waving her arms and booty around and watching herself in the mirror. I dump the clothes and look at her. She giggles and runs away. A little while later as I'm walking through the house with another load I see a hair bow look like it's moving on its own out of the corner of my eye. Johanna is in the kitchen sliding around on the floor. I ask, "What are you doing?" and, again, giggles and running out of the room is the answer I get. Later on, I'm laying down on my bed and watching the tube. I hear these muffled grunts and huffs coming from my floor. I sit up and there's Jo watching herself in my floor-length mirror. She's on the floor and doing her version of a move that I call, "Here's My Crotch" from the So You Think You Can Dance show. You can probably figure out what that looks like. Anyhow, when I realized that the new season of SYTYCD is now on, all the pieces of the puzzle suddenly fit together...Johanna was dancing! Either she's stopped her "auditioning" or she's gotten better at noticing when I'm in the room.

Sometimes seeing is believing

Okay, so the house is out of control. I don't think there is one area in the whole house that I wouldn't be embarrassed to have seen right now. (Yes, I can see how there would be an obvious question of why I'm sitting here blogging instead of cleaning my house, but I don't come out looking well in the answer so I'm going to choose to ignore that and move on.) So, as I'm traversing the Basement I step over something yet again but this time something in my brain says, "hmmm, something's not right." Now, the something not right isn't that I'm stepping over something again and not picking it up. That's another something not right and not part of the story. It's that I realize that there are no dolls or other things sitting around this something. I look at the "something" and realize that it is a shoebox top sitting on the carpet in the living room right in the path from the girls' area to the kitchen. I then notice it has writing on it. Apparently, they came across a bug. And instead of killing it with a shoe, they decide that the best course of action is to trap it and to leave a note. If you can't see it, it says, "Bug! (under this) Needs to be Killled. Meg and Jo" with an arrow pointing down.


No, I didn't lift up the box top to see if the bug was under the box top and yes, the box top is still sitting in the same spot I found it. Killing bugs is Man's Work.

The one, the only...Meagan

My dear sweet middle child. The one I used to call "doe-di-doe" because she just went along with the flow. She's killing me. Seriously. In the mornings as we drive to school, the radio station we listen to has a thing called "the Jr. Joker" where kids call in and tell a joke. Every day it's the same. We'll be driving down the road, the Jr. Joker will come on and tell the joke and then beat...beat...beat and you'll hear an "oh!" and then quiet laughter out of Meg's corner of the car as she finally gets the punch line. And these aren't hard jokes, people. Today's was, "What do you say to the hammerhead shark after a test?" "I don't know, what DO you say to a hammerhead shark after a test?" "You really nailed it!"

Now I wish I could just leave it at that but in writing this post I couldn't remember what the joke was today so I went to the girls' rooms and asked Meg and Lorie if they remembered what the joke was and Meg's response was, "I don't remember it exactly but it had a hammerhead shark and a nail in it and it took me a really long time to get it."

'Nuff said!

Eye exams

I've needed to get Johanna and Lorie's eyes checked for awhile now. I kept putting it off and putting it off because of money and time issues but finally got a jump on the calendar and scheduled them for Winter Break.

I wish I could have read the thoughts of the optician because Johanna was ON! The way she was talking reminded me of game show contestants from the 70's and 80's..."I'd like to buy an E for $300, Jim" in that overly-loud, overly enunciated way they talk. So funny. "That's an H, then an I, then either a G or an O, then a T. Wait let me go back to the G-slash-O and I'm going to say it's a G." She also read the letters from right to left, which threw us all for a bit. Add into it all that with the thing you look through in front of her face, she was stylin' a little like Anakin Skywalker in Star Wars I getting ready for a Pod race, and you can understand why Lorie and I giggled our way through Jo's exam.

The glasses should be ready Monday. I'll post pictures after we pick them up.

Lorie gets to third base

Tonight I forgot that I had nursery duty at church. I'm supposed to have it every fourth Wednesday but for whatever reason, I haven't been in the nursery for awhile. Johanna stayed home sick from school so I was keeping her home from church when Lorie called to tell me that I had nursery and there were 4 babies there. So I grabbed Jo and got to the church. I made Jo stay in Kenny's office and told Lorie to help me out in the nursery. There ended up being only 2 babies but in the end I was glad to have her in there because of the humor factor.

One baby hadn't ever been at church before and when she got sleepy, she got more than a little unhappy. She was actually unhappy at Lorie. For whatever reason, she decided that Lorie was mocking her pain and would cry and sob whenever Lorie would laugh. I rocked her and sang to her and eventually she went to sleep. That's when the fun started and Lorie got "lucky".

The baby she was holding started stinking. Lorie got a panicked look on her face because I told her that she'd have to change him since I didn't think that my baby would let me put her in a crib without waking up and screaming bloody murder. That's when Lorie informed me that she's only changed one other baby "and that didn't go well." I told her tough luck, that she was a smart child and needed to just get on with things. So she takes the baby and get a diaper and wipes out of his bag. Then she sits him on the changing table and looks at him. I suggest lying him down. Apparently this is the point where the other baby she'd attempted to change started pitching a fit and rolling around. She got a scared look on her face and gingerly laid the baby down. This baby, being a bit more good natured, lay down nicely and kept playing with whatever toy Lorie'd given him. He was dressed in overalls, so I told Lorie to look for the snaps between the legs. She said there weren't any and hauled the baby up and started unbuckling him from the top while we argued about whether there really were snaps or not (by the way, I was right...there WERE snaps). So she gets him out of his overalls and laid back down again. In the meantime, I'm laughing as hard, yet as quietly as I can, because I have this sleeping baby on my chest. Lorie crosses her legs and informs me that she's really got to pee. Well, seeing that I've got dead weight on my chest and she's got a half-naked baby on the changing table, I told her that that would have to wait. She tentatively opened the diaper and SURPRISE! false alarm...he'd only been passing gas. She got him in his new diaper and then back into his overalls (sooooo funny) and then back on the floor so she could run down the hall to use the bathroom.

When she got back, her baby was unhappy. She got the bottle out and him in comfy-to-him-horribly-uncomfortable-to-her position and gave him his bottle. At which point he put his hand back and copped a squeeze. So between the open mouth kisses she got at the beginning of the night, him "feeling her up" and her getting up close and personal with his privates, I told her that she'd gotten to third base and didn't even get dinner and a movie out of the deal.

It only got better when as we are leaving the nursery, I caught sight of her from the rear...she really HAD needed to go to the bathroom!!! Add to it being in the car with little Kenny and her arguing about whether or not her knowing how to change a diaper in theory was just as good as being able to actually do it (and from her recent experiences, I'm not sure why Lorie was so adamant about her position) and then them arguing about Kenny's usage of the word "airy" (Lorie said it was "ar-ry" as in saying the letter "r" with a "ry" on the end) only to find out that what Kenny really meant WAS airy and what Lorie really meant was "awry"...well, it was a classic Stokes night!

What's that smell? Oh, it's me!

Okay, so for the last week I've noticed that body odor has become a problem with me. The first time I thought, maybe I forgot my deodorant this morning. I've managed to do such a thing a time or two in the past, but the second time I noticed "that smell" I knew FOR SURE I'd put my deodorant on. So next I think, hmmm, hormones they are a changin'. Maybe that's why I'm so odiferous these days. Maybe I need to look into a new brand of deodorant! But being the cheapskate that I am, I wanted to finish up the stick I had so I started spending more time in application mode but with no difference in outcome! Well, this morning as I'm doing the deodorant applying thing and thinking to myself how weird it was that just suddenly I stunk, I noticed that the deodorant applicator felt kind of rough. I took a second and actually looked at my deodorant only to find out that I'd hit the rock bottom of the stick! It was actually at the grid pattern at the bottom which is the rough part I felt! Who knows when it ran out (I'm thinking about a week or two ago with the first b.o. whiff I caught)!

Since I didn't have a back-up stick, I dove into my overnight kit and grabbed my sample size deodorant from there and taaa-daaa, now it's 9:41 p.m. and b.o. has been conquered!