Category Archives: Coach

Just Keep Swimming


For the thirtymillionth time this week, “just keep swimming,” is in my head. It’s August and that means summer is officially over. Not that we have much summer here, in Crazyville.

Coach is off, but he gets pretty tired of being “off” after about a month and the Cheerleader is back at daily workouts and practices after the 4th of July. So, we stay pretty busy even when we’re not so busy. Our normal “not so busy” looks like a lot of other families’ super busy. #sportslife

Margaret Thatcher and The Boy have both asked to play soccer this fall, the Cheerleader’s booked us up every evening but Saturdays, and of course Coach practically lives at the school now.

So. Hi.

My last post was right before the election. And then THAT happened. I am still so speechless at the utter circus in the White House right now, I don’t even know where to start.


I started Camp Gladiator and I’m already down a pant size. But, more importantly, I realized this morning I can’t remember the last time I took Advil in the evening because I was achy and creaky from sitting in my chair all day at work; carrying all that stress in the back of my neck or back. Work is still a barrel of monkeys every day, but I no longer dread feeling like I’ve been drop kicked in the face every night.

I’m also using my standing desk more often, drinking less coffee/more water, and making myself leave the office and go home for lunch.

Ah, work. Still a great job. Still love what I do, love the team, love what we’re accomplishing. This is the Empire Strikes Back part of the project so we’re all working really hard, feeling like we’re not exactly getting anywhere, but it’s just a plateau. We’ll push through and then we’ll be back off to the races. We’ll work it out.

I feel myself coming to a bit of a crossroads with work. There is so much still to do/build/accomplish. But the past few months have felt like a total grind and I’m really missing building, training, and COMMUNICATING. I have done this work thing in this brain, and with this heart long enough to know that communication and training other people how to communicate is where my passion is. In the words of Tigger, “it’s what Tiggers do best!” As important as pulling and analyzing metrics IS and as much as I’m 100% committed to what I’m doing RIGHTNOWDONTLOSESIGHTOFTHISPROJECT, I know I’m going to have to get back to training/communicating or I will begin to atrophy those muscles I’ve worked so hard to build over an almost 20 year career. God did not create me to be a Commander type for nothing.

Since my last post, I promoted to Director with Thirty-One Gifts. Something I don’t post much about here, but it’s become a really important part of my life. I truly feel part of something with Thirty-One that I don’t have anywhere else. Yes, it’s one more thing to do, but it’s as much part of my day as coffee.


I’m certain there’s more. But, this is a lot in one update. For my friends who follow me on facebook, none of this is news, but I miss writing (see my bit above about not creating content).

Later, gators.


put your shades on, turn       up the music, &        DEAL WITH IT. 









It’s Saturday. I haven’t blogged in a while and, if I had more time (duh), you’d be able to see why.

We’ve finished up our first competitive cheer season, Doc is trying to beat CR7’s goal-scoring record this year in *cough* first kick rec soccer, and The Boy is trying to set a record for the number of times he can bang his face on the ground, into the lip of a table, or corner of a bookcase in a single month. Coach is finished with soccer season and has moved full-on into yearbook (which means he’s busy covering every sport, concert, play, and awards dinner at THS). Work is work for me. I love it. Busy, busy, busy. They keep giving me things to do so I’ll take that as a good sign.

I have been feeling the urge to reorganize, purge, and simplify our belongings (again). Realizing the reality is that we probably won’t try and move this year, all the STUFF in this house is making me crazy.

I want to redecorate the Boy’s room. It doesn’t really say anything now that I’ve taken his sports stuff out of his crib. I think we’re doing race cars, but I just haven’t had the time.

*sidenote* I’m writing on Coach’s mac (#love), but I’ve gotten used to my Surface and so now I keep touching the screen. */sidenote* HA.

Doc & Munchkin (can I still call an almost 13-year old “munchkin”?) (and, @sarah, is it more correct to put the punctuation inside the “” or outside, since the “” was to designate a name, not a quote?)

What was I saying?

This is my life. I can’t keep a !@#($% thought in my head for longer than about :25 seconds. So, you see why blogging has been such a hit or miss thing this year. I want to. My life would make a great sitcom. My children are hilarious and I really should be writing this down because [in my most obnoxious, patronizing voice] “they won’t be little forever.” (see, I know I used it correctly there.)

And it’s not all fun and games. There are things I want/need to pour out so I get them out of my head, but I open up the page to write and stare at a blank screen. And then life intrudes and demands my attention. So, in my head these thoughts stay.

Speaking of. The Boy just poured a cup of cinnamon toast crunch out on the kitchen floor. Because 18 months, you know?

Excuse me while I go back to the mess.


A note from the Coach’s wife


As Coach’s wife, I don’t often voice opinions or thoughts out loud about the Soccer program. I don’t see it as my job. My job is to support and keep the home fires burning. But I just have to say this one thing…

Thank you. Thank you for driving back and forth to away games and tournaments. For selling t-shirts and nachos. For sitting on metal bleachers in 25 degrees, rain, sleet, and snow over and over this season. For trucking kids back and forth to EARLY morning practices and waiting in cars for afternoon practices as the sun went down. For always believing.

I am so proud to be the wife of your head coach. He loves your sons as if they were his own. What you may or may not know is that you and your sons are prayed for. They are part of our family. We cheer when they win, we grieve when they don’t, and we hurt when they hurt.

Six years ago, I knew almost nothing about Soccer. Now, I can watch a game and see why it is called “the beautiful game.” And, intertwined in every moment are the faces of your sons. THEY make it beautiful.

Thank you for trusting Coach. Thank you for believing in Wildcat Soccer. Thank you for a beautiful season. Thank you.

Dangerous Road


Once again, the geniuses at Pregnant Chicken slayed me with their cleverness in the weekly email and I had to comment. Here.

Because otherwise, I’m going to whine about having to get down on my hands and knees and look for Princess Crybaby’s shoes AGAIN this morning and, just as I was about to really let the profanity go on the phone with The Coach, I found it. Under the table. “Exactly where she left it.” (and yes, I’m making that face, Coach – so don’t start)

Yes, it did occur to me to pick them up when I saw those shoes in two different places (is she throwing them around now or something?) last night before bed, but then I remembered I had corn to harvest on Hayday and I forgot. Sue me, dudes, I’m 31 weeks pregnant.


Things Never to Say

I’m pretty sure being pregnant is the most obnoxious way to pass most of a year. Not because of the process itself so much, but because you can’t be pregnant without people saying REALLY dumb things. And, while I’m sure there are some who feel perfectly entitled to shoot back a stinging retort to all the inappropriate touching, comments and shenanigans (Coach, I’m using that word just for you), I am *trying* to be a little more laid back.

But the first one on this list really struck me as funny and TRUE. Friends, gather around and let Auntie fridaynightgirl share a little safety message: just don’t. There is no good or safe way to remark on a woman’s silhouette when she’s pregnant. Especially not by 31 weeks. And yes, I’m going to explain. By this point, we feel like we’ve been hauling around a pumpkin in our belly for a couple of months now. We are hot. We are sore. We are uncomfortable. And, for the love of mike, we haven’t seen our feet when they are directly under us in weeks. So, saying “well, you just don’t even look pregnant!” is a no-go for a couple of reasons. FIRST, by saying that, what we HEARD with our psycho-preggo ears was, “Geez, you always look like a beluga whale to me!” Whether our weight gain is on track or headed off with the second gallon of dutch chocolate Blue Bell ice cream, we don’t want to be reminded of the all the clothes that don’t fit because of this little project we’ve got going here. We know we’ve gained weight, so don’t try and lie to us. SECOND. When you say it, YOU are trying to compliment us for not blowing up into the Stay-Puffed Marshmallow mommy. We get it. Somewhere. But our sore back, stretched skin and four articles of clothing that still fit mock that sentiment. Growing a human is HARD work, y’all. There are things that happen in pregnancy that are awful. Messy. Painful.. And that’s before labor and delivery. So, as whacked out as this logic is, telling a woman after 31 weeks that she doesn’t even look pregnant somehow discounts all this back-breaking work we’re doing here. At least, between my ears (which, for the record, is the ONLY part of my body that seems to not be a little puffy today) – don’t get me started on the chin. UGH.

I think we can all agree on the general stupidity of remarking “how big” a pregnant woman looks – at any point of her pregnancy. This doesn’t require much discussion. That’s just asking to have a chair thrown at you. Don’t do it. Ever. She’s perfectly aware of the fact that she’s not cutting much of a figure other than the previously mentioned relative of the WHALE.

My advice? When she comes to you and makes some remark about feeling as big as a house or whatever, pat her on the arm and tell her she looks fantastic and ask her if she wants a cookie. Or a Dr. Pepper. Or, in my case, a brand new bag of chips and french onion dip.






24 weeks. The magic point at which, it seems, comfortable is becoming a passing memory; something to think about in the past and look forward to in the future. It’s sometime around 4am and I’ve given up on sleeping any more. Princess Crybaby woke up a little bit ago, asking to go to the bathroom, but she was so sleepy I don’t think it actually occurred to her to go. Then she asked to sleep in our bed. Well, she’s so dadgum snuggly at 4am aaaaaaand I relented. (I have NO willpower at 4am) Well, by the time I settled her back in and got halfway situated myself, I was well and truly awake. Knowing better than to lay there and watch the clock, I got up. And here I am.

I actually don’t mind it. (right now; ask me again this afternoon when I’ve propped my head up with catalogs so I can pretend I have enough batteries to get me through the workday.) The house is still and quiet and it’s still dark enough I can’t see our “happy mess.” *laugh* I have surrendered to all but the basic “necessity” cleaning until the children are old enough that it’s not like watering your yard in a rainstorm. I mean, really – what’s the point? (don’t think that lets Coach off of dishes duty while school is out. I have my limits.)

I think of my sweet sisters and how lovely and clean their house is and I envy them. (and wonder where they get that extra energy and if it something that comes in a pill form.) While some people want to be Martha Stewart, I want to be Molly Weasley. She had a spell to do the dishes for goodness sakes and that beats making crepes and origami christmas ornaments any day of the week.

I console myself with the Joel Olsteen-esque “name it and claim it” platitude (i.e. completely useless, but so warm and fuzzy) that they won’t be little forever and time I “waste” scrubbing floors and sinks and doing laundry is time I could be spending with the kids. Or something like that.



You know the really funny thing about this picture (and many others just like it)? I don’t think there is a single child within five miles of this room. Low sharp coffee table? White upholstery? Skinny vases three inches from the edge of the table? Open, roaring fire? And, look at the shine on those floors. Are you kidding me?

One day I’ll have a lovely clean house again – probably right around the time I can reach the stuff on the floor (or sometime after Halloween). For now, excuse our mess.

Oh, and if you hear snoring coming from the corner office around 3 today, you’ll know why.

I got nothin’


I’m tired. It’s been a crazy, hectic week; to be followed by a hectic Friday and Saturday before I can relax. I am SO thankful, though, for the holiday weekend. So, today’s post is a whole lot of nothin’. Nothin’ funny. Nothin’ sappy. Nothin’ inspiring.

I’m empty today. Well, that’s not true. I have a baby boy the size of a bell pepper hanging around that I’m trying to get to know, two little girls who light up my life with their fireworks every day, and a husband who delights, completes and overjoys me. I have friends who encourage me, family that holds me close and faith that keeps me afloat. I have Jesus.

You know what, maybe I’m not so empty after all.

Living in Crazyville


I’m not sure, but I’m beginning to think Crazyville isn’t just some silly name I came up with when I was designing this blog. I’m pretty sure it’s one of the more accurate labels I could put on our life.

Working in the school district, I get spring break off. During spring break, it became abundantly clear how desperately I’d been craving some downtime. We didn’t go anywhere and just being home, with no games, meetings, appointments, dance classes, work functions, WHATEVER was amazing. It was probably more time together, as a whole family – maybe ever. Crazyville.

Then, school started again and immediately we were right back up to our eardrums in all of the above. I woke up Tuesday morning after spring break and that knot at the base of my neck was back. In less than 48 hours. Crazyville.

Then, you come to something like our crazy day today. (incidentally, from the time I posted the diagram of my afternoon to now, the picture has changed three times) Crazyville.

How do we simplify? Coach can’t stop being a coach. Well, he could but that’s like telling me to stop singing. I tried that for a season and all the color went out of my life. Not an option.

I can’t stop doing my job. Well, I could but what would I be gaining other than some free time? And, who’s to say it would work? I am a high-octane personality who tends to grow my job into a high-octane job; no matter where I am. My job today is significantly bigger than when I inherited it – I did that.

We could stop taking Munchkin to extra activities but I don’t think anybody would accuse us of overscheduling our kids with extra-curriculars.

And Princess Crybaby is just a toddler along for the ride.

This may just be a season that we’ll grow out of (or just have to live through). All in all, we have a great life – just a busy life. Crazyville.

Christmas is over – thank goodness!


*whew* Thank goodness that’s over! 

Christmas IS my favorite time of year.  It is an amazing opportunity to rest, recharge and reconnect with family and friends.  It is a time to celebrate the birth of our Savior.  It is a time to enjoy good food, the cutest decorations of the year and PRESENTS!  *giggle*  (sorry, channeling my inner 9-year old)

Monday we go back to work; the kids are back Wednesday.  On one hand, I’m ready to go back.  The kids are getting stir crazy with only boring mommy & daddy for entertainment.  And mommy needs something to do all day but pick up KIX cereal and bananas off the floor. 

On the other hand, I love being home.  This is the only time of year I see so much of everybody.  During our regularly scheduled craziness, there just isn’t time to sit on the couch and watch a movie together, or play a playstation game together unless we schedule it. 

Munchkin is sitting on the couch, practicing her cursive in a notebook.  She’s ready to go back too.  She’s excited and curious to meet her new math/homeroom teacher.  She’s been reading like a true crazy-viller. 

Princess Crybaby is currently wearing her coat.  Not that we’re leaving; she just wants to wear it.  She’s got her cup in her hand and she’s dragging her ride-on whateveritscalled around.  We should have gotten her a wagon. 

Coach is playing his online game.  He’s like a level 75 super-hunter.  I am a wimpy little level 22 (almost 23). 

And yours truly is sitting on the couch, touching her blog for the first time since…well, before Christmas.

So, while I’m glad the cooking, endless cleaning (because you never know who’s coming over) and wrapping and cleaning up presents is over, it’s been simply heavenly to rest and recharge. 

Tonight is New Year’s Eve.  As a family, we are setting goals tonight.  Wellness, family time, and whatever else we think of.  More on that later. 

For now, toodles!

The Urge to Cut


I’m growing my hair out. Yes, I know it looks nicer, more professional, etc at a chin-length, stacked bob. BUT. I’m planning to audition for Oliver at the Temole Civic Theatre in (I guess) December and I don’t think chin length was “in” back in Dickens-era England. The growing process is EXCRUCIATING. I have a lot of hair and this fluffy mess is very tedious to get together in the mornings. I know this is the worst part. I will survive. Speaking of musicals, Munchkin made the Honor Choir at her school! YEAH, Munchkin! Now there will be even more singing in the house. And dancing, too since she’s taking dance. Now before you go all over-scheduled on me, dance is thirty minutes, twice a week. In this awful, unending heat, it gives her a way to get active in a way she loves and it furthers HER goal to be a Kitten at Temple High School. She still has plenty of time to do homework, play and relax after school. Coach was invited to work with goalkeepers in the local clubs and thats a huge win for him. He’s been working on that a while now. So to be invited to a regular gig is a huge success. He talked about, maybe in the future, taking on a team but he’s got a lot of after school responsibilities with Yearbook that sometimes just pop up so having a regular gig outside of school isn’t really possible right now. So Munchkin is watching Jem and the Holograms. It makes me laugh to see her watch a show I enjoyed so much as a girl myself. *laugh*Ok, it’s time to get everybody corralled for the morning. Have a great day!

Happy Days


Home after spending the day in fort worth with my sweet husband and littlest girl, princess crybaby. It was a sweet day. Like so many days, I am overwhelmed at those little moments. We laugh so much, it’s hard to imagine we’ve ever known sadness or anger.

The anniversary of our wedding is a sweet reminder of a very special day but it is, after all, just Another Day. A beautiful day, no doubt. But the days that I live for are days we go shopping or, as Coach says, “looking.” Days when we go to Pepper Creek Trail and I complain about the heat. Days when we sit on the couch and watch soccer. Friday nights when I’m in the stands and he’s on the sidelines. And, yes, even those days when it seems he intent on losing his hands because he won’t stop tickling me.

Of the myriad of gifts God has given me, the greatest is Coach. The only thing that is more precious to me is my salvation.

Today is a happy day.

Cold Weather


There’s something about this crisp weather that makes the sky seem bluer, chili taste better and hot chocolate compliment every meal.

Some people love this weather.   Brisk weather agrees with them.

Not me. I hate this weather. LOL

Hate is a strong word, I know.  I’m a summer girl. That’s all there is to that. I love hot days and balmy nights.  This weather is only fit for hanging meat. Not wanting to liken myself to a slab of beef, I prefer to stay inside on days like today – 20 degrees with 25 mph winds.

Naturally, my best friend is a polar bear. He would have to be a coach of a sport that plays outside during the coldest time of year in Texas.  I’m tellin’ you, you’ve never been cold until you sit on metal bleachers. Thank goodness for hand warmers, sleeping bags and stadium chairs.
And, as much as I gripe about the weather, I’m looking forward to the games. Yes really.

I know. I’m goofy. But you’re not surprised, are you?

Earth, Wind & Fire (no, not the disco band)


Munchkin is a great kid.  As my mother says, she is a very, very, very bright child in an itty, bitty body.  That’s a lot of brilliance to contain in one little package.  Like capturing the wind.  You can contain it, but it is very, very hard to make it sit still.

That reminds me of how, when my brother and I were still living at home, Mother used to describe us as we might be found in nature.  Brother is light – he fills a room with his presence – he is impossible to miss.  He chases away shadows just by being there and warms cold spots.  People, like moths, are drawn to his light – it radiates from him. 

I am fire.  Raw energy that causes forward motion.  Fire is impressive by it’s power and beauty but can be very, very dangerous if left untended.  In my family, my temper is legendary in its ability to flare up, seemingly out of nowhere and be gone again, just as fast.  Fire also has the ability to draw people in.  Fire gives warmth and protection when harnessed. 

If my brother was light and I am fire, Munchkin is wind and Princess Crybaby is water (so far as I can tell).  Let me explain:

Munchkin is wind.  Wind is constant motion.  Wind carries songs and wishes.  Wind powers turbines and creates electricity.  It sustains life.  Wind can be terribly destructive if your structures aren’t built (and reinforced) solidly.  Wind will mess up your hair, blow your dress up and ruin your umbrella on a rainy day.  But, it brings joy because you need it to fly a kite, or sail in a sailboat. 

Princess Crybaby is water.  Water is the giver of life.  We are made of water and without it our lives would end.  Water, like wind, has its own song.  From a babbling brook, to the mighty oceans, people choose to be near water – for many reasons.  Water is flexible but never mistake it’s adaptability for tameability.  You can dam up water but beware its power and the potential for catastrophe if the dam breaks.  Very quickly, a little bit of rain can overrun a stream and run a car off the road (as we are constantly reminded during flash flooding seasons). 

Coach is light.  Because I admire my brother so much, it is understandable I would marry a man who shares many of the same qualities as he.

While any one of these things has the power to destroy, we need (and want) all of them around because of the benefits they bring us. 

What describes you: Wind, Fire, Light, Water (or something else)?



So there is a frog in our yard and Matt has named him Barnaby.  The frog hangs out on the porch which, with a two month old puppy who eats everything, seems very brave (or stupid – it IS a frog, afterall).

Last night, as we pulled back into the driveway, Matt screeches to a stop; scaring me to death. All the sudden, he jumps out of the car, clapping and shooing a frog, obviously Barnaby, out of the way.  Now all frogs are Barnaby and must be protected from harm.




I hate waiting.  I know it’s better for her to be in there and she’ll come when she’s ready and it’s almost time and it won’t be much longer. blah. blah. blah.

No, I am not a patient person.  Yes, I am tired and cranky because I was up until nearly 2am with our “practice run” to the hospital.  Why is it that when you are at home the contractions are timing exactly as they should, bringing tears to your eyes and making you feel like you are actually getting somewhere?  BUT, when you get to the hospital, everything stops or slows down to just “irrritability” contractions – contractions that are still timing ok and have some strength to them but aren’t long enough to really make progress.  I did laugh when she (the nurse) called them irritiable contractions – she was certainly right about that. 

By midnight, I’m a pretty irritable person.  By 1:15 am, if we aren’t actively in labor, I want to go home and sleep.  And that’s what we did – after a run to Jack in the Box.  *laugh*

Coach was a total champ last night.  He made me laugh – putting latex gloves on his head and telling his goofy jokes which, under the stress of the moment, made me laugh hysterically.  He held my hand when I cried out of frustration (I hate practice – I want the real deal). 

I will say this about practice though: we did have a chance to figure out our strategy for getting everybody in the car (including a very sleepy Munchkin), getting her to Mom & Dads, make a few phone calls on the way and get there in good time.  I guess that’s something…

So, it won’t be long.  We DO want her to stay in there as long as she needs so she will be healthy.  And I know she’ll come when she’s ready and that’s ok with me.  Really.  But, Stowaway – can we please save our practice runs for daytime hours – Mommy is NOT a night owl like Daddy.  Thanks.  Love you.  I can’t wait to meet you.

Home Again


Back from San Antonio.  Coach & I went down Sunday for Coaching School.  We stayed in a very pretty hotel, just across the street from the Convention Center and the Rivercenter Mall.  We were about three blocks from the Alamo and a very short drive to everything else.  We had fun walking through the exhibit hall with all the vendors and I found a great book I’m going to buy for my Mentor Board.  He found some leadership stuff he’s going to use with his boys and he’s really excited about it. 

The drive back was nice – we took 130 around Austin, instead of cutting up through the I-35 traffic and I’m telling you, we may never take I-35 through Austin again.  DEFINITELY worth the extra few miles of open country! 

Met a few of the wives while at CS and, like the vast majority of everything else, it was all about football.  I can see how Coach gets a little huffy around stuff like that.  I know this is Texas, folks, so I don’t need to be reminded about Friday Night Lights and how football is god around here.  I love football.  There is something visceral about the crisp October air, the buzz of the stadium lights, the marching bands, … well, you get it.  It’s part of the Texan psyche. 


While my love for high school football isn’t diminished (I dreamed about season tickets last night – yes really), I have discovered a new love.  The look of real grass, the intellectual game that is able to tie you as tight as a bowstring with suspense – the players’ game (as Coach calls it) – Soccer.  I really do love the game; even though there are parts of it I still don’t understand. 

It would have been nice to find a few soccer wives there to visit with but I have a hunch that if they are as independent as their soccer-coach husbands (and most of the soccer coaches I’ve met walk to their own drummer anyway), that might not happen very often. 

But, it was still fun. 

We ate REALLY good Mexican food the whole trip. 

Casa Rio, on the Riverwalk

mi Tierra with their wonderful bakery and foil decorations that dazzled your eyes – and the food – best tamales I’ve ever eaten!

Shopping at El Mercado (I found a gorgeous flowerpot that I can’t wait to put on our new patio!!  🙂

It was a great trip.  San Antonio just might be my favorite city in Texas to escape to.  It’s just different and wonderful and yet so very familiar from years of visiting.  It’s like seeing an old friend – you may go years before visiting again but, when you get there, it’s as if all is still right where you knew it would be.

were you singing that just now?


Have I mentioned Coach and I are a match made in Heaven?  No, really.  We are like peas and carrots, as Forrest Gump would say. 

Besides all the great compatibility things that we have in common, my very favorite thing about our marriage is how much we laugh.  All the time, I tell you.  He tells horrible jokes a lot of the time and we have our own ways of laughing about it.  (I’m the funny one, Dear.) 

What’s fascinating though is how often we do things together.  Now, I don’t mean go places together or spend time together.  I’m talking about simple stuff, like saying the same thing at the same time, SNIFFING at the same time, yawning at the same time (not one of us yawns then the other – I mean, literally, at the same time) and a million other things. 

Last night, I’m sitting on the couch and he in his chair.  I’m playing Harry Potter and he’s fiddling around on his computer.  All the sudden a certain praise song pops into my head and I start singing it.  He looks at me and says, with a very astounded look, “were you singing that just now?”  Apparently, it was in his head too!  We had not heard this song on the radio.  We had not heard it on TV.  It spontaneously popped into BOTH our heads AT. THE. SAME. TIME! 

I just love that!


So. I had several very random and bizarre dreams last night.  In one of my dreams, we’re back in my grandfather’s house.  (which is currently being occupied by his horrible widow; a woman who, immediately after the funeral, shut us out of her life and the home my mother and brother grew up in.  She now allows a man, to whom she is not married, to live there with her, in my GRANDPARENTS’ HOUSE.  She dishonors his memory by her very presence and I am disgusted to say she was ever part of our family.)  Ok, sorry…  So, Munchkin and I are in my grandfather’s house and I’m going into the kitchen when I notice a giant frog in the floor.  In the dream, I tried to find a big tupperware bowl to cover it up so we could safely get it out of the house when it starts hopping around Munchkin, trying to get away from all these people!  Well, the frog is hopping, and Munchkin is hopping (and squealing) and I’m standing there, with this big bowl in my hand.  Then I woke up.  I don’t know what they mean; I’m just reporting the news, folks.

My second dream had a different tone. 

We were at Mother’s house and had all laid down for a nap.  When we woke up, we noticed several walls of the living room had been BLOWN OUT and a house down the street had a target on it.  I told Mother to call the insurance company because you can’t stay in a house with no walls.  (logical – now here is where it just all falls apart into weirdness)  Mother says we should call the police because, obviously, somebody blew up her house and the house down the street was next!  So, we call the police but the FBI shows up.  They say there were reports of an american flag in the sky over the house about the time of the explosion (how we slept through a BOMBING is beyond me but that’s my dreamlife, I tell ya) and this was domestic terrorism and we would have to all be questioned. 

Then, this lady (the human equivalent of Roz, in Monsters Inc.) sets us all around a low Asian-style coffee table (I told you it was odd) and starts asking dumb questions that I can’t remember now.  What really took the cake was the fact that the FBI agents, one of whom was Brad Gunn, a coach at the High School, discerned the explosive device was cleverly hidden in a baseball they found mostly blown up in the front yard.

Where does my brain come up with this stuff?

Well, it’s 7:45 and I’m going to start getting ready for church.  (that means I’m going to have my first bowl of cereal)

Speaking of cereal – funny thing.  I went to the store the other day and picked out three new boxes of cereal: Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Life, and Frosted Mini Wheats.  YUMMY.  My only problem is I can’t decide which cereal to eat.  I think cinnamon toast crunch gets the nod this morning.  THen, I’ll have a bowl of life cereal later this afternoon and finish off the day with frosted mini-wheats for dessert.  Hey, it’s better for me than oreos and milk.  And, babycenter says the baby needs extra calcium right now so, by golly, I’m going to give it to her!  🙂

I joked yesterday all this cereal makes me a “cereal killer.”  As those words were coming out of my mouth, Coach said, “just don’t say killer after cereal.”  Told you we’re weird.

my turn to be awake


Normally, I’m the one nodding off by 9:30 and Coach is up all hours of the night.  He’s a night-owl and I am a crack of dawn kind of girl.  But, tonight, he went to bed early and I’m still sitting here.  Oh, sure, it’s only 10 o’clock so it’s not like I’m shaking hands with morning just yet.  The Stowaway is moving and shifting in not-so-comfortable ways and I think that’s keeping me from getting settled. 

I’m planning on trying to sleep in about 30 more minutes… 

‘night y’all.

clock watching


I start my new schedule at work today: 10am-3pm.  It’s a little odd, considering I’ve never worked half-time before.  It will take a little adjusting to until I have children at home again. 

With Munchkin in Jersey for the summer and the Stowaway still in the slow cooker, I don’t really have anything to do first thing in the morning.  Now, don’t get me wrong – I am NOT complaining!  Au contraire, I think it will be really nice to have a few extra hours to get around and straighten things up and work on the endless packing project before we move.  And then, to have the afternoons to spend with Coach, who is enjoying his summer by recording every scrap of futbol he can find on television.

I made my official Moving To Do list this week and I’m going to tape it to the front door so everytime we go past it, we’ll see what’s left to be done.  It will keep me on track and give Coach some things to do during his day when I’m at work.  *wink*

I feel rather helpless knowing I’m so pregnant and can’t really pick up heavy stuff, or do a lot of, well, ANYTHING.  The logistics of doing a lot of bending are just absurd at this point.  It’s not that I can’t see my shoes, I just can’t reach them.  Not without huffing and puffing and feeling like, surely, I’m folding the Stowaway in half which, I’m sure, she doesn’t appreciate one iota.

I’m FINISHED with all my scrapbooking endeavors for a while – our engagement, bridal and wedding albums should be delivered today and I ordered the Disney album last night so it should be here late next week.  I am so excited to see the albums!  I am really enjoying learning about digital scrapbooking and plan to do a lot more of it. 

Now that we have a good family camera again, I can get picaboo and smilebox transferred over to the house computer.  My next project is to do another album for Munchkin and then, in September, I’ll do our family pictures Andrea Crosswhite will come down and take.  She’s our “family photographer.”  She took Coach and my engagement, bridal and wedding pictures so we thought she’d be perfect to take pictures of our family – from now on. 

Well, my friends, I’m going to enjoy the last 30 minutes of morning before I need to start getting ready for work by making a cup of coffee and taking all the artwork off the walls.  You know, that’s my least favorite part of moving.  Bare walls are lonely walls to me.  That, and packing away my books.  Not being able to see all the wonderful spines and be reminded of the stories whenever I pass by is a little sad.  *laugh*  I’m a dork.  Yes, I know. 

Have a happy day!

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