Friday, April 30, 2010

How honest?

How honest will you be? Imagine this: Little Pat (like my gender neutral choice) comes in at age 14 and says, "Mom, did you ever smoke marijuana?" or "Dad, how old were you the first time you had sex?"

How will you answer those hard questions? It isn't just limited to those things, underage drinking, drinking and driving, other drug abuse/use, adolescent violence. What will you say to your Pat when those tough things come up?

And by tough, I don't mean the internationally dreaded, Where do babies come from. I mean about your personal history, your infidelities.

Personally, there are one or two things on my list I'm not proud of. Things I really don't want to be honest about, but personally, I think I will.

I knew so much about my parents, they were open books about their own dirty secrets, but we never got around to talking about what I should do, so that's something I plan to fix in my future.

But honestly, I knew my parents smoked pot. It was a little obvious, it was the 70's, they would have been minorities not to have. But it was open, common knowledge. They weren't ashamed. They told us they did it, and we didn't. Neither my sister, nor I ever smoked weed, ever.

My sister drank a lot, but I never got drunk in HS. I was a sophomore in college the first and only time I was ever drunk. We drank vodka shots, vodka and code orange Mnt Dew, and when we ran out of pop we poured the last of the jug of vodka into a gallon jug of orange juice and had screw drivers. I still remember the awful hangover I had.

And while I don't have as many secrets to share with Archer, Chance does. He will have to be open and honest in the hopes that his awful adolescent choices can serve as a what not to do for his son.

I honestly think it worked for me. My dad was an alcoholic until I was 13, and I know that was part of my decision to not be wasted every weekend of high school like my peers. (I also think genetics play a role. I just don't like alcohol and instantly get sharp, stabby pains when I drink anything. Especially beer, everytime I burp I have to hold back vomit. My body is just intolerant.)

Chance doesn't like to take advil, because both his parents, and both adult siblings are addicted to prescription narcotics. His aunt, whose husband is a pharmacist is also addicted. He uses the knowledge about his parents to see a potential weakness and avoid it. (While possibly going a little far.)

So, the follow up question is, will you be honest when Pat comes in and asks what you did as a teen/early adult? Will you share your past in hopes of them learning from your mistakes?

I love answers, and discussions. Feel free.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Tattoos and Relationships

A co-worker said the other day, that his fiancé would kill him if he came home from his bachelor party with a new tattoo. I chimed in with, "Well, what if it's of her name?"

He gave me the oddest look and said he would never get a person's name tattooed.

Ok, I get that. Really I do. But it depends on the reason you feel that way. If you think it's tacky fine. But if it's because tattoos last forever, then I'm left wondering: Arent marriages supposed to last forever also?

If you can't tattoo the partner you have comitted to or vowed to spend your life with's name on your body because you are worried about the forever-ness of it, I'm worried about the forever-ness of your marriage.

Another friend asked what the tattoo on my foot meant.

Well, in case you are also wondering, it means soul mate. Chance has the exact same thing, slightly larger on his back.

When I told her that she said, I swear to you, "I hope you never get divorced." Hmm, isn't that a given? Shouldn't you hope that no matter what?

So, I've given you other peoples examples and opinions, now I'll give you mine. I think it could be tacky but I also think there are ways to pledge yourself with body art that's beautiful and heartfelt.

Chance and I researched the symbol. We really talked it out, and we got it together on our four year anniversary.

So, in the event that we do get a divorce? I still think God put our souls together. "I found the one my soul loves." Song of Solomon, 3:4. Our souls are matched forever even if our bodies and minds can't see eye to eye.

I don't regret it, I made the conscious decision to never regret it. If he dies someday, and I remarry, I still believe he is the one.

With that said, I never went into it thinking that we wouldn't be together forever. As I've said before, I was a naieve girl who thought no one had a relationship and love like we did. I honestly thought that. I am now older and a million times less self centered and I can see that isn't the case.

I told you mine, tell me yours? What is your opinion of permanently decorating your body with either the name or idea of a spouse or other life partner?

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Sunday, April 25, 2010


The major benefit of my job is the life saving two months off in the summer time. Lots of people say teachers don't get paid enough, but I'm totally ok with my salary. I get two weeks off for winter break, one week for spring break, an two whole months for summer.

We are at 5 weeks and counting. Only five more Mondays. For the sake of my mental health, I'm dying fora break.

As much as I love being a mommy, I'm worried about the break in gonna need after spending all my time with Archer. Is that awful?

He and I have been butting heads all week. He has been turning off the power switch for our entertainment system, climbing on the table, getting in the toilet, etc etc.

Needless to say, I need some alone time.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Thursday, April 22, 2010

9 Years

A common question on formspring is how Chance and I met. I said I was going to blog about it a while back, so here it is.

Chance and I actually met in kindergarten. No, really. We went to school in a town where the population was about 600 max. There were never more than 25 kids in our entire class. So, as you can imagine, these same numbers also go back to our parents day, so subsequently, our parents went to school together too. His mom and my aunt were best friends in HS.

We were always in the same group, maybe even a little clique-ish for elementary school. He was best friends with my cousin, and we all went to the lake together. As a child, I thought we went to the lake to play, but realize now it was probably so our still young parents could drink and socialize.

The more time our families spent time together, the more I hung out with his sister. She was older than me, but there were usually only two or three girls, so we stuck together. I even spent the night at their house with his sister a few times because we were both smart and a little nerdy.

In junior high, his parents bought a house in the country and we began riding the same bus.

Secretly, I always had a little crush on him. I think it was his bad-boy demeanor. ; )

Well, in the 9th grade I starting dating another boy who rode our bus. He teased me relentlessly for that, and actually still does.

After a month said boy first told me he loved me (to which I responded was just to soon to say back) and then broke up with me the next week.

Chance used my broken heartedness to his advantage and began talking to me more.

He started asking me to be his girlfriend in February I believe. He called all the time, wrote me hundreds of notes, which I think I still have.

Back then, Chance partied quite a bit. His older sister lived with her boyfriend her senior year, and all of their friends drank and smoked weed at their house. He naturally followed in their footsteps. Well, actually, he did it side by side with them.

So, he invited me to parties, and my parents were very much againt their 15 year old drinking with 18-21 year olds. Imagine that.

Eventually, his sister broke up with her live-in boyfriend of 3 years, and starting dating her now husband. This ended most of the partying, and Chance started driving (at 15) to my house after school to hang out.

Even though I had had this massive crush, I kind of knew that I if we began dating it would be forever, isn't that wild. So, I resisted for a very long time.

In April, the 21st of April, 2001, I said yes. The very next day, a Sunday, he kissed me for the very first time. His first kiss. : )

We dated all through high school. The June after we graduated high school we moved into a small house in the same town we're in town with my best friend.

We lived there, happily ever after until the next summer when Chance joined the Navy. He was having a hard time finding a full time job, and wanted more from himself. He spent a month in basic training before was discharged for a substantial hearing loss in his left ear. He had been given a waiver from the recruiting office, got to Chicago and they couldn't believe he even made it there.

He came home in August, and we spent three awful months at his parents house. It really wasn't that bad, but we had lived on our own, and you just can't go back.

In December, we got the smallest house ever in my favorite town, where my dream house and the college I graduated from are. It was outrageously priced and we had to buy appliances for it, but it was better than a bedroom with his parents anyday.

That's the house we lived in when we were married in 2006, on our five year anniversary. No engagement, no honeymoon. Still, we don't do much to celebrate, we have a good marriage, and we celebrate each other daily.

Eventually, we'll do more but right now, I'm content with a nice dinner at home and snuggling on the couch. Even Archer can hang with us.

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Rain, rain

It's raining here for the second day. Honestly, I don't mind, since Archer is with his daddy! : ) He has had excess energy, and is burning it off with Nanny and Papa.

So, it's America's Next Top Model Marathon!!

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Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Ya weirdo

Talking with one of my students today about conversation skills today. I asked how many people were needed and he said, "I don't know." So I asked what would happen if there was a conversation with just one person.

His answer? You would be a weirdo.

Love my job.

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Monday, April 12, 2010

House Stalking

I have been stalking my dream house. It's in the town I lived in while in college. It's also where I go to take my teleclasses now.

I love it so much. I drive past it both days a week I go to class.

Isn't it gorgeous? It has 6 bedrooms and multiple fireplaces. A two car garage and a rental property.

Problem? It's about $60k out of our price range. Wanh, wanh, wahh.

In my dream world, they sell it to us for $60k under and we sell ours for $50. That would really help.

Ahh, to dream.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Note to others

If you are an in-law, listen up. Do not just show up unannouced at peoples home on a Saturday. It's rude.

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Thursday, April 8, 2010

Facebook Comments

This is my obligatory post on my personal facebook comments.

Sometimes, when I comment on photos and statuses, I feel like I'm saying the exact same thing all other 19 posters have said. I don't like that feeling. While I love looking at photos of all my friend's beautiful babies, I don't want to be a "Oh, how cute" drone.

So, what I generally do is comment on other's comments or about something happening in the photo not just the overall cuteness that it has.

I go back and see what others have posted and think, "Hmm, what I said could be a little flip, taken wrong, or just off point." That's not how I intend it.

Point? If I comment on something not directly related to a photo, or don't show the appropriate amount of sympathy/empathy for a status, just overlook it please. I don't do it to be a pain or insensitive, I'm just trying to speak my mind and not fall in line.

Thanks and sorry for any inconviences this might have caused.

Charity and Giving

Let me introduce you to my friend today. We'll call her Wilma.

Wilmla is someone I have known since college. We weren't necessarily friends then, but I knew of her and had a few classes with her. From the outside, she was perfect. Her hair was always pristinely blonde, no or dark roots. Her clothes were expensive. My first class with her was a summer class, and she was always tan, and just perfect looking. She drove a brand new Yukon Denali. Loaded. She was just perfect.

She seemed on the edge of snotty, she didn't go out of her way to talk to people. She had a friend from high school that was in all of the same classes with her, with the exception of the summer class, and she talked to her, and no one else.

I didn't dislike her, but I wasn't going to be her friend because I thought she was just too perfect. My life was by no means awful, but how could someone who is so perfect have anything in common with someone like me? She was definitely the type of girl that made other girls extremely self-concious just by being in the same room as them.

I walked into our speech clinic one day, and see a little boy. He's adorable, but was not a client. I asked my supervisor who said, he was Wilma's son. I do some quick math and figure that Wilma and I are the same age, so that means this child was born during or right after high school.

I instantly liked her better. Isn't that awful?

We had a few other classes together, and I actually iniated some conversations with her, but nothing more than superficial small talk.

When I started my new job, Wilma had already been working for the same district, doing the same job as me for over a year. We emailed casually a few times, but nothing major. We didn't do lunch or talk on the phone, unless it was job related.

Another student I graduated with, who also entered the same grad program as me, was hired on two months after I was. My supervisor had said we were needing someone new, so I suggested another friend, we'll call her Betty. She was hired over the phone the next day.

Betty and I grew up in similar small towns, we were major rivals in baseball and softball. Betty and I instantly took to having lunch and hanging out in my office when we had free time. We were much more than just the friendly acquaintances Wilma and I were. I showed her the ropes a little, and we just liked to talk.

Betty ended up going to work at the same school, at the same job, in the same office at Wilma. They hit it off quickly, and we all started lunching together as much as possible.

I had so many girl friends in college and while working (before Archer was born) and I had really missed it much more than I had realized.

I went out with these girls in Bricktown. We talk on the phone daily, and recently have been having lunch at my office together, as Wilma's boyfriend's desk is right next to mine. So we all take a day and bring lunch; it's a cheaper, healthier alternative to Chili's and Atlanta Bread daily.

Yesterday, I noticed that one of my students (I only have secondary kiddos) was wearing shoes that didn't fit and were in the worst possible shape. I called around, asked my sister who has has a 17 year old son, and then I called Wilma. She has a younger brother and a boyfriend (my coworker, in case you forgot) who are both smaller than Chance so I thought maybe they might be closer to the size shoe a 13 year old boy would need.

Her response to my asking if either of them had shoes they didn't wear or couldn't fit? I'll take care of it.

See, what I left out, is that Wilma's dad is a selfmade millionaire. He worked his way from the bottom to the top. She grew up in a mansion, they take lavish trips, and they donate their time and money for the good of others.

So, my friend who used to intimidate the crap out of me, and probably made me a little jealous by her superficial perfection, is deep down a truly awesome person.

I called her last night, and she immediately took charge of the situation. Answered my problem in a way I didn't even ask for, and helped out a student in need that she didn't even know.

Now, you might be saying that she asked her dad for the money, or that it wasn't her gift, it was his. I don't know who actually paid for the shoes, which by the way, there were two pair, but she made it happen. She could have just said, my dad has money, and we pay our dues. But she didn't.

I appreciate that quality. There aren't really a lot of people who have the means, and give that willingly, at the drop of a hat. After church last night even.

So Wilma, if you read this, I'm proud of you.
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