Butt Swatter

This morning as I was pulling away from Peyton's school, I noticed he was sitting on the bench by his teacher. I pulled back in the spot to check on him, see if he was in trouble, or just sitting. I called for him to come over to the fence and his teacher told him to tell me what he did. I asked him and of course, he shrugged his shoulders and said, "I dunno." He wouldn't say, and then started crying, so his teacher walked over and let me know that he was hitting kid's butts, which I knew about, and we've been working on, but Peyton's just having a hard time grasping why other people don't like this. The thing is, he's not doing it to be mean, it's more the affectionate, hey, we're on a football team together, butt swat.

Peyton's a touchy-feely kid. He always has a hand on someone's ear, or head, or face, and now their butts. I wonder even if the other kids would notice if the teacher hadn't pointed it out, but now they have, so the kids tell on him when he does it. I felt so bad for him, with the tears welling up in his eyes, and his little voice saying, "I'm trying to remember." I know you are, sweetie, just wait, in 12 years, it will be ok again.

Excel at Excel

Why are blank Excel spreadsheets so much scarier than blank Word documents?

Here We Go Again

Stupid, stupid storms need to go away!

We had a great time at Lake Placid this weekend with Larry's parents. It was a nice relaxing time, just getting away with no set schedule. Then when we came home yesterday afternoon, Larry's little cousin had a birthday party that we went to. They had rented one of the big water slides for the kids, which they all had a blast on. Peyton went right up, and then Shey wanted to go, so I took him. It was so much fun, we're talking about renting one for Larry's birthday just for the adults. What an adrenaline rush. We took some photos, I'll edit and get up here as fast as I can.

My Rocket Scientist

I know you can't see all the detail, but Peyton made this jet out of Legos, and I am so impressed. I don't think I have the foresight to make something this realistic looking by using big Legos. He can recreate it over and over too. It's so fascinating to watch his progressions from stacking a bunch of blocks and calling it a rocket, to this, which actually looks like an airplane. He's doing so well in school too. His teacher said he's the one kid who always knows the answers. I just hope his teachers are ready to keep him busy in the future.

Waiting on 5 o'clock

I bought this and this at lunch today and I can't wait to try one out tonight. I think I am sick, and I need some help. Mutant Erika, get off me!

Letting Go

Tenth Avenue North led the singing at our services Sunday morning and during one song the chorus say, "and we raise up holy hands . . ." Some of the people will do this, I never have. I don't think there is anything wrong with it, I just feel weird doing it. The people who raise their hands are those charismatic folks on TV who speak in tongues and heal people with the touch of their hands. I guess that while I've found these last few months attending this new church moving, I'm still working on the outward appearances.

The singer explained though that raising your hands is not saying, "hey, I'm super Christian, look at me raising my hands." but rather an outward showing of "Hey, I'm a mess and I need some help." I had the vivid image of a child reaching their hands up to be picked up by their parents. I like this image.

To further solidify this idea, the preacher (I'm still having a hard time calling him Pastor, another one of those childhood notions) started a new series on stress management and not surprisingly, the first step of handling the noise of life is surrendering your life to God. All of it.

That's scary. Not sure why, but it is. The whole relationship, a personal relationship, with God makes my breath catch in my throat. Strange, how the one person/being who is not supposed to ever let you down, is the one I'm most afraid to open myself up to. Even thinking about it now makes my chest tighten.

I'm working on it though. I'm ready to feel the peace, ready to let each day take care of itself, ready to be a better person.

I've put off writing this entry, the one that throws my new spiritual journey out there. Don't want to be one of those fanatical, you know. But I needed to for myself, if I'm going to work on this, it has to be fully.

So there you go, and someone please pass my mom the tissues.

Be Nice to Me, I Gave Blood Today

The traveling dracula buffet was in our office plaza this morning, so as I am now the perfect person in every shape, form and fashion, I hopped on over there to donate a little life. They used some new system on me call Alyx, whereby they remove my blood, take what they need, and give me back my plasma. Strange, strange. The tech kept trying to show me the whole process, and I kindly said, no, no, I'm good. I did take a peek every so often, but I didn't want to study the damn needle in my arm. Ewwwwwww.

Tomorrow is spa day. A friend and I are going for a chocolate wrap thing, a facial and a pedicure. I can not wait! Pamper me, please.

Updating everyday

I'm really trying to get into the habit of updating this blog everyday, but sometimes, there just doesn't seem to be much to talk about, that's interesting, that is. Last night I was superwoman, I cooked dinner, did the dishes, bathed both the kids, and did 45 minutes of yoga. Go me. The scale is hanging at the same number, but I figure all this work has to be doing something. Doing/performing/practicing yoga with your husband on the kitchen and your 4-year old playing/whining/trying to steal your blocks isn't quite the rewarding/relaxing/pleasing experience it should be, but I'm trying. And man, am I sore. Who would have thought holding a pose and stretching could create such soreness. I'm quickly becoming addicted though. And I've decided that following a yoga DVD with peaceful yoga, rather than Denise Austin's hyperactive yoga is much more pleasant.

And there we have it, my yoga impressions.

Beep Beep Beep

I was in the middle of negotiating a deal with the Pro shop to trade golf shoes and a new driver for vet services when an urgent hand shoved me and a whisper came out of the dark,

"Ka, what's that beeping?"

I layed there quietly for a moment, listening, groggy from sleep, until I heard it too.

"It's the computer. There must have been a power surge."

Of course, I knew what the beeping was. We've lived in the house over two years and I investigate the weird noises, know the house without turning on the lights, and am awake all the time. Apparently, it has been a figment of Larry living with me, because he has yet to master the floorplan of the house and its noises.

As he walks down the hall that is straight, and leads directly to the office, he turns on the hall light, which floods all three bedrooms with light.

Fucker.

Then he has the nerve to give me lip for being aggrevated at being awoken at 4 am.

"But you're always up!"

But I wasn't this time, or I would have walked down the hall, in the dark no less, turned off the computer and returned to bed without anyone in the family being none the wiser.

Slumbering Little People

How beautiful they look,
lying in the king size bed
they kicked us out of at
5 this morn.

Starting Anew

Peyton began pre-K this morning. In celebration, (and also because I am suffering from a diaryland mental block) I decided to start a blog. It seems when I want to write an entry, it's normally only a sentence or two anyway, which lends itself to the blogging world, rather than an entry.

So, here we are.