Looks of disgust

Saturday, Micheal and I met in Tyler with one of my best friends from Dallas. She used to live here, and then graduated and high-tailed it to a bigger city and a better job. So, we found some time we were both not too busy, and we met up together half-way between our cities. :)

My poor little child, rode all the way up there, about an hour and a half in the car, and then went straight into his stroller, because I wasn't about to let him walk around Foley's by himself. Little Micheal is usually okay with going shopping, as long as it doesn't involve too many location changes and not too much non-movement time. As long as he is continuously moving, he doesn't care. So, we got there a little before she did, so we decided to look around a little bit while waiting for her to get there. Plus, I was hoping his newfound dislike of strangers would wear off a little bit by the time she got there, since he hadn't seen her in a while.

The initial meeting between the two went decently well, but then Micheal decided that he was done sitting in his stoller. So, I let him out to walk, since I knew we were almost done.

This was my stupid mistake, but everyone has to learn something new everyday, and this was my learning moment of the day. It probably didn't help that he was probably hungry, as it was 12:30 in the afternoon, and he had had breakfast four hours before. So, the tantrum began. And, oh Lord, did it begin. My wonderful angel has never had a tantrum such as this in public before. If we were at home and he had thrown a fit like this, I would have put him down and let him scream it out in the middle of the floor in his room. And then when he was done, he could come out. Or, let him scream while walking all over the whole house, because then I'll just keep walking into a different room. This is how we handle 15-month old baby boy tantrums. He's not old enough to really understand time-outs or spankings, but we make our own adjustments in his discipline. Oh well.

So, back at Foley's... He started throwing his fit, first lying down on the floor and kicking his feet and then when I picked him, he pulled the ever popular go-limp-and-she-can't-hold-me. So, my remedy to that was to just drape him over my shoulder. Then, the little smartie-pants arched his back to try to jump backwards out of my arms. So, my friend, being the smart person that she is, offered to stay in out place in line to pay for the items I wanted, so I gave her the card I wanted to use, and showed her where my license was, and the screaming child and I could make our way to the door.

This was where the fun began for me. I knew where our car was parked, but I swear that Foley's made it so that there was no quick and easy way to get there without making many, many turns through people that didn't know how not to look at me.

It was soooo embarassing! I know that when I am out somewhere, and some poor mother is having trouble with their little one, that I am usually sympathetic and try to be aware that the face I may have on is not one of disgust or loathing, but one of sympathy and compassion for the mother. But, not one person that I passed on our way out the door had that same thought for me. Instead, every single woman that I passed by looked at me as though I should be beaten for the way I was treating my child, because I must have been beating him for him to be screaming that way. I was almost in tears by the time we got to the front doors, and the minute we got to those doors, he stopped screaming. Little terd. Once he had stopped his screaming, the only thing I could do was to sit him down in the car and tell him how unacceptable his behavior was, and how we don't hit Mommy, and how we don't scream in a store. This went over just like I was trying to tell him how to find the derivative of a quadratic function or something. It was horrible. So, he screamed all the way to lunch, and then he was fine during lunch, because he was getting to eat food.

Again, it just goes to show that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, whether he is fifty, fifteen years, or fifteen months.

Anniversary Gift - A little early

My husband is not a creative gift- giver. In fact, I usually write down a very short list of very specific things that I would enjoy about a week before my birthday, because then it starts our gift-giving season. My birthday is in October, his is in November, Christmas in December, and our anniversary in early January.

Thus, I was very pleasantly and emotionally affected this week when I came home from school to find out that my husband had been listening FIVE YEARS AGO when I told him of a secret dream of mine.

Monday afternoon, I came home from school, dead dog tired after a Monday dealing with high schoolers, and was trying to clean up my kitchen before I started scrounging around the kitchen for some dinner plans. I found a blank, empty envelope and asked my husband what he had forgotten to mail. He told me that he had bought me a card and forgot to put it in there. I quickly racked my brain, wondering whether (God forbid) I had forgotten any kind of important date. I quickly assured myself that I know dates WAY better than my husband does and maybe he was just mistaken, or even more correctly assumed, just messing with me.
I asked him to forgive me while I giggled, and he said that he really had bought me a card and that it was in the dining room. So, I walked by the room, and my first thought was, "Why is that table pushed up so close to the windows?" And then I saw it...

MY OWN PIANO! With a card on top of it.

My secret dream ever since I was a kid taking piano lessons was to grow up and get a house big enough that I could dedicate one whole room as a music room. I'd get a black baby grand piano, and have my viola in one corner, and my piano in the middle of the room, and it would be just for me to go when I wanted to relax and play some music.

And he remembered this.

Our fifth anniversary is in January, and he thought ahead and decided he wanted to do something REALLY GOOD, and so he looked around and bought me a piano. It's not brand-new, but it's new to me, and I am so excited to get it tuned and fill my house with missed notes and joyous noise that my child can remember and then learn as he gets older.

I am so blessed to have the family that God has given me, and I can't believe that we will have been married five whole years in a few short months. I know that there are many other people out there that have been married much longer and think that five years is nothing, but I think that these five years are way more than many other families in my husband's profession will ever see, and I am thankful for that, and look forward to many more years with my little family.

What do you get the person who has everything?

We've all had the problem of trying to find a gift for someone who pretty much has everything they want already... and even if they didn't have it, they would buy it when they saw it. I have this situation with many people I would like to give gifts to in my life, and one such person is my wonderful babysitter, Bri-Bri. Her birthday was last week, and I knew that I paid her enough for her to buy whatever she wanted, but I still wanted her to know that I was making an effort. So, I got creative. I made her a card, and every word that is in italics and colored is a candy.

To Our MAzing Bri-Bri:

We thought we’d Take 5 to let you know exactly how Extra special we think you are. When we’re in a Crunch you’re always a Lifesaver! “Your boys” are like the 3 Musketeers, and no matter what kind of Goobers they are, or the Mounds of Whoppers they leave for you, you’re never a Butterfinger and things turn out perfectly.

There may have been a few Snickers from Airheads that think babysitting isn’t a worthy pastime, but Now and Later there’s NO ONE we’d rather trust with OUR boy with than you. Come Payday you deserve 100 Grand! Too bad we’ll never have that much to give. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts!
Happy Birthday!

Luckily, she thought it was pretty creative too, and I'm still allowed to leave my boy with the other woman in his life that loves him almost as much as his mommy. :)

I'm so excited!

Since January of 2003, I have been attending classes at SFA in order to get my master's degree in secondary mathematics education. I have enjoyed being able to get my master's without much cost to me, really nearly none, and without having to go like a real college student again. No early morning all week long classes, no dorms, and no yucky cafeteria food. We only go to SFA one Friday and Saturday a month, and then there were three summers where we went for a total of six weeks each summer. Now, during that time, some members of our class had to stay in a dorm, but I live close enough that I was able to shower in my own shower, and not the closet they call a shower that would cause a clausterphobic person to hyperventilate.

My point in all this is that I am finally in the home stretch! I have five class meetings left! I am so excited! This is the last August that I have any classes, and then next will be no more September classes and so on, until December, when we officially meet for learning for the last time.

Once that is over, I have to turn in a portfolio of all my work and how I've applied it to my teaching over the past three years, and then take a monstrous test over the topics we've discussed over the past three years, and then I will walk away with my master's degree! :)

The only thorn in my side about all this is that my little sister will have her Master's in December. So, she will have hers a few months before I will, and she will have finished hers in less time than it took me to get mine. But, I can always say that I got mine for free! :) Sometimes being a math teacher really pays off!

I've Noticed...

I live in the way, way out boonies, compared to most of you people that live in or near a city. I live about 25 minutes outside of a little town that most of you wouldn't even consider as a city. So, on my way to town, or to school, or to the sitter's house, I drive by mostly pastures and lots of cows and other such farm animals on these pastures. I was once told something that I didn't believe, but I have since paid better attention and now am a true believer.

I have noticed that any time I drive by a pasture with cows, they see me coming and at least one of them raises his or her tail and proceeds to relieve him/herself. I'm not joking! Every single time! It's almost like they see me coming and say "Oh No! Human!" And it scares the poop or pee out of them!

Next time you drive by a herd of cattle, pay attention, see what you find!