First Story: I'm the proud mommy to two furbabies. They're pretty good most of the time, but if their behavior is any indication of what any kids we may have will be like then we are in for an interesting (read: troubling, very troubling...my kids will be grounded....or if they respond like their father does to grounding we'll have to figure something else out) time of parenting. Last week we were almost out of the expensive (as far as cat food goes) Science Diet Hairball Control formula they have been eating for awhile now. We had a bag of Science Diet Adult formula we picked up one time when we couldn't find the other stuff. They didn't really enjoy it, but we decided we would try again to see if they would eat it. (Last time they knocked their bowl over and fished out the regular food - we were mixing them together to try and wean them off the old stuff.) Surprisingly, they ate it. I bought a bag of the regular stuff and put it into the launry room (closet basically). Every day when I came home last week the laundry room door had been knocked open, but I didn't think much of it. I just thought they were being ornery and knocking it open while they were playing. Wrong! I went to open the bag of the Hairball Control formula on Saturday when they finally were out of the other stuff and noticed...hey, there are holes chewed into the bag! Those bad little kitties had been opening the laundry room door and snacking on their favorite food while Mom and Dad were at work all day. Rotten, totally rotten is what they are. (They're also going to be very upset if they have to go on a "poor kitty" diet if Mommy doesn't get a decent job in Alabama...can you say "Meow Mix?")
Second Story: The past two weekends have been hellish. My stress level has gone through the roof. It's a mixture of a bunch of different things all mixed together at once to make me totally nutso. Too many unknowns at the moment. My job is to plan, when I don't know the plan I tend to get ticked. I dealt with it for the Marine Corps, but it soon will not be the Marine Corps that my plans rest upon. Faith, I just need faith, I know. It's always been tough for me to have faith though. On the surface I look like I'm put together and have faith (and parts of me do have faith), but most of me spends the time waiting for the other shoe to drop. If things are too good to be true, instead of totally enjoying it I spend my time partially enjoying it and partially bracing myself for the undoing of all the great stuff. I have a wonderful husband who I know I only met him because somebody bigger than me wanted us together. I'm grateful for that. Only he could deal with me when I'm stressed and still Love me the way he does. (I'm kind of a big b if you know what I mean when I get too stressed.) Plus, he loves my insane family. It truly takes a special guy to love my insane family too. He's a keeper. .oO(I do remember a weekend visit approx. 3 years ago that he was stuck in the middle of the back seat, in a car full of girls, where he was cowering and saying "what did I get myself into?"....mwuahahaha...wonder what he thinks after 3 years in the family....maybe I don't want to know, LOL.)
Third Story: I voted in the NC primary/spring election. I voted on a whole 3 things...the presidential primary, a sales tax for NC, and school board. Sadly, I didn't pay attention to the details of the other candidates. So I stink as a voter and I didn't answer all the "questions" on my ballot (bad teacher), but I didn't want to add my vote in an uneducated way. I didn't want to just pick one to pick one. Plus, the things that were going through my head were terrible! I've spent too much time with Marines, way too much time. Here's an example that may not make me lose my job...one of the candidates for NC treasurer was named Wiesel and thought...hmmm he sounds Jewish. If he's Jewish maybe he would be good with the state's money. When I realized my decision process I thought...yeah, I should just stop now. Then I went to scan my largely incomplete ballot into the electronic machine and it had an error. I made a stray mark on my ballot. I had to give my ballot back to the nice ladies at the table, who had to have looked at my democratic primary ballot...saw my vote and probably wondered...she voted for him?! That's surprising. I figured my vote should count since I am "unaffiliated" and chose to take a democratic ballot since I don't think the republican primary really means much. Guess there's no secret who I voted for now. (P.S. I can't really respect Hillary. Way too many reasons why at this point...) We'll see what my options are for the fall election. Maybe I'll do my homework on the local issues in Alabama next time too. (Or wherever we end up.)
Fourth Story: This one is closely related to the second story. Bivins (Dave) wants a dog. Badly. Not just any dog, but an Australian Shepherd (sp?). He decided that today while he was on duty he would serch the animal shelters in Alabama for dogs. He found more than one that he fell in love with, but two in particular. He calls me at the end of my school day to tell me about the furry darlings he has found. I have to firmly remind him...uh, we don't have a place to live yet (besides your mom and dad's house) and while I know they love animals, we've already got two we have to feed, litter, and immunize. He tells me "wait til you see the picture, you'll fall in love," Uh, no! I'm going to be the meanie here and say no you can't have a dog...yet. This is similar to how the argument went when we were first talking about bringing home our baby Ezekiel (Zeke). He went to Wal-Mart and bought all the stuff for a cat. Then came to tell me, pick out a cat. Ugh, No! I don't want a cat to clean up after. I'll have fur everywhere and I'll have to clean up a litter box and it will stink. Not to mention fleas and the possibility of moving (we were in DC at the time). Needless to say my resolve lasted overnight and I couldn't say no to his sad little face anymore. We ended up with lil Zeke. Then right before we moved we bought Zeus at the pet store, literally a week before we moved to NC. We are NOT, I repeat NOT going to add another kid to our family until we are settled. (Let's hope I stay firm on this....adding to the family every time we move is a very bad tradition to start.)
Three bananas left to eat for the week! Now I better not lose my marbles with my students or I won't have to worry about looking for a teaching job. That thought alone is what keeps me sane sometimes when I get those particularly trying children.
