the beatys

Confirmation

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Wed, 08 Oct 2008 17:37:00 +0000

While I don't consider myself to be perfect, I do prefer to be organized. In fact, I must be. It will never fail; I will walk into the office to do some work after Luke has left for the day. Sitting behind our desk after Luke has been hard at work usually leaves me with about two minutes of straightening up the space before jumping in to what I am there to do. I must have every pen in it's place, every piece of paper in it's folder, every photograph straightened, and all of the dust knocked off of my surroundings. If I don't have everything just so, I begin to panic as if I don't know what it is I sat there to do in the first place.

The same goes for every other room in our house. Everything has a place, and more times than not you will find them there. Not because Luke or the boys put them there, but because I make certain that they stay there. You want to read your book in the family room? Perfectly fine; just put it away on your bookshelf once you're finished. You want to color atop the coffee table? Perfectly fine; just put your art things back in the cubby in the closet. The remotes for the television? They have their own little metal container on an end table. The blankets all have a nice spot in the basket on the floor of the coat closet. Bookbags and jackets have their places on their hooks in the entryway from the office. Keys have a home on the hooks hanging beside the garage door. Completed school work and art has a home in a large picnic basket atop our laundry room counter. You get the idea. I'm a freak.

Obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) is a chronic anxiety disorder most commonly characterized by obsessive, distressing, intrusive thoughts and related compulsions. Compulsions are tasks or "rituals" which attempt to neutralize the obsessions. OCD is distinguished from other types of anxiety, including the routine tension and stress that appear throughout life. The phrase "obsessive-compulsive" has become part of the English lexicon, and is often used in an informal or caricatured manner to describe someone who is meticulous, perfectionistic, absorbed in a cause, or otherwise fixated on something or someone.[1] Although these signs are often present in OCD, a person who exhibits them does not necessarily have OCD, and may instead have obsessive-compulsive personality disorder (OCPD) or some other condition.

While I have known that I am overly organized, I would hope that those around me would appreciate that more than being a completely scattered mess that never knew where anything was. If I have to leave early; say, before the beds are made and before I have had a chance to wash and put away the morning's dishes, I think about it all day long. I think about having to get everything picked up and put away as soon as I get home. You never know when somebody may stop by unannounced and it wouldn't be right to have unkempt beds and dirty dishes, or overflowing laundry baskets and dirty toilets. LIKE THESE PEOPLE CARE, but I DO.

I have always been able to buzz through this entire house and get everything picked up and put away within about ten minutes. Then, I can relax. Otherwise I turn into an over reactive bitch until I get everything just so. My husband and children both think I am a lunatic. I digress. BUT!! I have loosened up quite a bit in my old age, and now accept the fact that this is our home, we must live in it, and "we" includes two young boys. Things are bound to be out of place and muddy footprints inevitably find their way to our floors. And you know what? I didn't DIE. These things truly don't kill me anymore. Baby steps.

What sealed the deal for me and made me come to a final acceptance that yes, I am severely OCD was today when I volunteered in Ryan's classroom. I couldn't function in that room for one second. Shit everywhere. Kids clothes and underwear on the floor near their cubbies. Desks and tables piled with worksheets and folders and books. Surplus of supplies lingering around everywhere the eye could see. One itsy bitsy bottle of hand sanitizer available for the children's use; that is, if they are at least five feet tall and able to reach it from atop the book shelf. Mayhem. I would die if I had to work in that room on a daily basis. My heart rate rose and I began to feel panic. I wanted to clean. I wanted to organize. I wanted ORDER. Completely overstepping my boundaries and completely not what I was there to do. But oh how I wanted to. Give me one good day in that room and a few organizational tools from Target. Then, I would be able to sleep at night knowing that my kid isn't spending seven hours in a classroom where he could potentially become lost.

Listen Carefully

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Fri, 03 Oct 2008 12:59:00 +0000

Interims

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Thu, 02 Oct 2008 14:15:00 +0000

Were sent home on Tuesday. Four and a half weeks into the school year and I am officially the mother of two brilliant young men. Who says you can't have good looks and a brain? Like you would have ever thought otherwise! They must take after their Momma *winks*

I'll Admit; I'm one of THOSE Moms

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Wed, 01 Oct 2008 15:55:00 +0000

Don't get me wrong; I don't do this too often, nor with too many outfits. But these shirts? How could I resist?! Never mind the fact that Ryan is a complete dork, cheesing so absurdly as to pop the veins right out of his neck. And look at Justin, kneeling there patiently while enduring his brother's attack. I truly don't even know that they noticed they matched. They were all, "But you already took our picture on the first day of school!" My loves.

Ryan; In Conclusion

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Mon, 29 Sep 2008 15:19:00 +0000

You can imagine my horror when I opened Ryan's folder Friday afternoon to find NO REPLY to my letter regarding his accident. My family was over for an afternoon visit which occupied my brain and kept me from storming right into his classroom and demanding an explanation and response to my letter. Not long after we had been home, his teacher called me.

She first apologized for not writing me back, but explained that with it being a half a day of school that she fell short on time and was unable to address the childrens' folders and any notes that were sent in. She further explained the events which led up to Ryan's accident by telling me that she never saw his hand being raised. Believing this to be true, I would have to also believe that her not acknowledging his hand being raised in his mind meant "put your hand down" which is what he told me had happened.

Further, he did in fact follow up with verbally requesting a trip to the bathroom which she replied with waiting just a few minutes. She explained to me that she was in the midst of explaining directions to the class prior to their breaking up into "Centers". In center, they break up into groups and work their way around the classroom to different "centers" with different activities. Okay, so she didn't say NO, but she delayed what was now his second attempt to use the bathroom, and one step closer to the inevitable accident.

Lastly, Ryan had explained to me that once he was in center, he asked the assistant to use the bathroom and she told him no. His teacher was not aware of that occurrence, but didn't necessarily say that didn't happen either. What she did tell me in their defense was that the students know that when they are in centers, they have one person as a designated "center captain" to whom they can ask permissions for things such as bathroom breaks, and apparently Ryan didn't ask his captain. Can you blame the child; he was already shot down by two ADULTS.

He never went to his teacher to tell her of his accident. Instead, he sat in shitty pants and tried to hide his embarrassment by continuing on with his center rotation. When he finally reached the center where his teacher was present, she noticed Ryan was sitting awkwardly and in the end, she finally got close enough to where she could smell my kid. My son was the smelly kid; the one with the poopy pants. She casually pulled him out of group and over to her desk where she asked if he had to still use the bathroom (finally?!) and his reply was "I think so." She then asked him if he had pooped in his pants and his reply was "I think a little bit." She then casually sent him with his bag of clothes to get cleaned up, while all of the other children were still participating in their center and not observing what was happening with Ryan. At least their attentions were occupied, but that doesn't in any way have any affect on the fact that THIS SHOULD NEVER HAVE HAPPENED IN THE FIRST PLACE.

She apologized and said she could tell how upset I was by what was written in my letter. Uh, YEAH. Still am, and my heart still breaks whenever I think about Ryan and what happened to him that day. Fortunately, he can laugh about it now and knows to always go to the bathroom and never try to hold it. My one instruction was to at least let his teacher know where he is headed, in the event that they take off for lunch or connect and he returns to an empty classroom. At least he will have brought to her attention that HEY, I'll be in the BATHROOM. Jesus.

Ryan

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Fri, 26 Sep 2008 15:30:00 +0000

Dude.

When I pulled up to the school yesterday to get the boys, I saw Ryan standing there with Justin, only he wasn't wearing the clothes I had sent him to school in. He was wearing the change of clothes that I had sent in earlier this year to be kept in their cubby in the event that they should have an accident during the day. The horror sounds echoing in my head, I couldn't pull to the curb fast enough to find out WHY he was wearing his CUBBY CLOTHES.

Near tears of both fear and embarrassment, Ryan proceeded to tell me what had happened. Shortly after lunch, he had raised his hand in class to ask to use the bathroom, but his teacher told him to put his hand down. Frustrated, he told her that he needed to use the bathroom, but she told him they were not using the bathroom right then. He even went so far as to ask the Instructional Assistant in their room and she too told him, no dice. WTF people? So OF COURSE, Ryan tries to hold his pooh in to no avail, and inevitably craps his pants. Mind you, this kid has never, as in NOT EVER crapped his pants not one single day in his life. Not even while potty training! Pee? Yeah in the early days of training, but pooh? Never. THE most regular kid you ever would meet, and never with any problems.

So, now he has crap in his pants. OF COURSE they let him go to the bathroom NOW to CHANGE HIS CLOTHES. I'm furious as he's telling me this, and becoming more and more boisterous with Ryan (though I shouldn't have been) in telling him that if he has to go, THEN GO. I'll take the brunt of the consequence that he may suffer as a result of not listening to his teacher. If you get sent to the office, then you can bet your sweet little stinky butt that I'll be in the office the very next morning, and I will explain to them that I have said that you are to go to the bathroom whenever you need to go if you are otherwise not allowed. I'll admit, I was loud and probably a little frightening to my already terrified and embarrassed little boy. Bad momma. But? I was upset...FOR HIM.

Anyways, I get home and find a note in Ryan's folder about his "accident". She closed with letting her know if I had any questions or concerns. Uh, YEAH. So I wrote a short story; explaining that he has never had accidents, that he is to never hold in his pooh when his class room is DIRECTLY ACROSS THE HALL from the boys' room, and that if he asks to go in the future and is denied, then I have given him full permission to state to you that IT'S AN EMERGENCY and TO GO. No questions asked.

My heart broke to think of this poor little thing; nervous to ask permission in the first place because he is our quiet one. Then, once denied THREE TIMES, having to try his hardest to hold it back. Then, when he failed yet again, having to be humiliated in front of the entire class because he needed to get his cubby clothes. Then, having to do his best to clean himself up ALL ALONE without his mommy to help him. Then, having to be stark naked in the boys' room for kids to come in and make fun of because he had too much going on to be enclosed in their tiny kid-sized stalls. My heart broke for him ALL NIGHT LONG.

My heart was breaking and my blood was boiling. To think, denied THREE TIMES in an attempt to shit on the pot. Can't wait to see what she wrote in response. I'll know soon enough; they only have half a day of school today and I will pick them up in fifteen minutes. My poor sweet baby. So timid and so alone; just he and his turd. She should have taken the bag of shitty pants home and washed them herself!

Autumn Afternoon

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Tue, 23 Sep 2008 18:59:00 +0000

The temperature a comfortable 75 degrees with a breeze reminiscent of those at the ocean's front, I sit here in the car line at the boys' school, a whopping twenty minutes before their dismissal so that I can spit out one semi informative post for you, my two readers :) Please bear with the typos and lack of proper punctuation as this post is being brought to you by way of one fat thumb and one minuscule keypad aboard my phone. Here goes...

Moms house, some of you ask? The drywall is in and coated with mud. The siding should be wrapped up tomorrow (photos forthcoming) and the trim carpenter will start this weekend. PAINT NEXT WEEK! Mom and I have been busy making final selections and purchases of her appliances (stainless), light fixtures and ceiling fans, and flooring and paint selections -- all of the fun and exciting things, and all of the reminders that WE'RE ALMOST FINISHED!

Luke is Best Man in an upcoming wedding. I wasn't going to go for fear of sitting all alone while he partook in the wedding party shenanigans that I otherwise would not have been included. Short ceremony? No head table at the reception? I suppose I can handle it. What do you wear to an early October outdoor/riverside wedding, anyways? When a situation arises where denim and flip flops aren't considered appropriate attire, I become clueless and slightly panicked. Help!

Ah, the line is moving; I'll have to continue this at a later time. Ryan's five year physical is this evening (I slacked with that appointment, his birthday being in July). Let's see where he lands on the growth chart this year...our little skrimpers!

Rolling with the Changes

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Fri, 19 Sep 2008 14:48:00 +0000

Since the recent birth of our newest corporation, Luke and I have found that we have outgrown our office rather quickly; not the actual space, but it's organization and effectiveness. Seen here, our former home office of All Star Painting, Inc.

What, we need to do some shopping for NEW FURNITURE? Where do I sign up? Of course I had the new layout already embedded into my little pea sized brain, complete with MANY filing drawers and MANY storage cabinets. My mission was to be able to accommodate all of our business belongings into one tidy space, rather than throughout three different rooms in our home and our garage. While we are still under construction and still have some cabinets to build and finishing touches to be applied, I think we've both done pretty damn good. Wouldn't you agree?

While I wasn't able to convince Luke that we needed to finally lose the herd of death upon our wall, I will have to admit that I am as happy as a clam to "come to work" in the morning. I love this place, even if we do still have some work to do before it's complete. Welcome to the new home office of All Star Incorporated; servicing both All Star Painting, Inc. and All Star Builders, Inc. Bring on the home buyers -- we have new furniture to pay for now!!

Justin Made History

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Fri, 19 Sep 2008 14:48:00 +0000

As he participated in a fourth grade field trip to Montpelier on Wednesday as part of a Constitution Day Celebration. We attended the plantation while he was in the second grade and while it was still undergoing restoration. He was thrilled to be able to participate in the unveiling, by having a role as one of the red stripes in the Living American Flag. He's in the first red row, directly beneath the blue.

Look at Me

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 12:06:00 +0000

Posting all early in the morning, before school, and WITH PICTURES! Our first cool and rainy morning, and with their fancy new jackets.

Oh Dear

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Tue, 09 Sep 2008 16:50:00 +0000

A few weeks ago I ordered up some new office furniture for our home office to replace what we have currently grown out of; a new executive desk, credenza with hutch, shelving units, lateral files, and storage cabinets. It all just arrived, and in TEN separate boxes. Not only has my car been temporarily evicted from my garage, but I have to find the best possible way to persuade Luke to lovingly help me assemble the new and remove the old. And touch up the paint on the walls. And steam clean the carpets before we bring in the new. Perhaps some mention of naked remodeling might help?

Buffett Banner

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Tue, 09 Sep 2008 14:40:00 +0000

Abnormal croppage because the man we recruited to snap the photos was not aware of the rule; No Full Body Shots! By the time he was snapping the second photo, we were all hysterical because it seriously appeared from the way he was positioning the camera that he was only capturing our breasts in the lens; more appropriately, Kat's breasts. We were shocked to see the contrary!

Waste

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Thu, 04 Sep 2008 22:09:00 +0000

The boys just came in from swimming for the first time IN OVER A MONTH. Thing is, they just came in from swimming IN THE NEIGHBOR'S POOL. What? Swim in our OWN pool in our OWN backyard...what are you, NUTS?

It's scheduled: Beaty pool closing, Wednesday, September 10th.

Bah

No Photos

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 14:17:00 +0000

I had this post all thought out in my head, complete with photos from some recent gatherings, as well as the first day of school. Then I realized that I deleted my memory card prior to transferring all of the photos to my hard drive. While that could have been a devastating loss, I did manage to have them all printed off before I wiped her clean. Hallelujah for me, so sad for you.

School is superb. Both of the boys are having a great time after their first two weeks. I have finally adapted to my new-and-much-quieter routine sans children, and am doing quite well. Ryan lept into kindergarten with no hesitation, and to this day, no tears have ever been shed; by him or by me. That is huge, people. My nest is officially empty and I'M OKAY. Justin was elated to be back among friends, and has just today submitted his application for Safety Patrol. He had to fill out an application, receive a parent recommendation, as well as his teacher's recommendation. Once the form has been filled out completely, it is then turned into the Guidance Counselor for final approval. A HUGE deal to my little fourth grader, and one that comes with great honor and responsibility. Go Jay!

Joined Bird and her crew for another enjoyable day and night with Jimmy Buffett on Monday. Those pictures are still present on the digital, and I am hopeful that there is at least one good one to share. That will have to wait until a bit later though, as I have to get moving for my lunch dates; I have a 10:45 reservation with an adorable little kindergartener and his dad, followed by an 11:15 reservation with the most precious fourth grader one ever did see...and his dad who ain't that hard to look at either!

been a while

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 19:15:00 +0000

lots to tell and photos to share. in a nutshell, busy as ever but hope to catch this place up real soon. maybe I can fill my Olympic void with some time online. lucky you.

Dreadful

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Tue, 19 Aug 2008 19:57:00 +0000

School starts tomorrow, at which time I will be taking my fourth grader and kindergartener in for their seven hour school day. Having met our teachers and classmates yesterday, the boys are both anxious for their big day. Justin has already informed me that I don't need to walk him in tomorrow -- being that he is in the BIG fourth grade now...the OLDEST kids in the school, ya know. I was more than happy to let him know that yes, I will walk you to your ~~classroom~~ trailer tomorrow, and yes, I will be taking pictures. It will be this way until the day that I walk you down the aisle. Wait, that isn't customary, is it? Walking your SON down the aisle? DID I ASK YOU??!! He'll be lucky if the day should come that I even agree to LET him marry. He is mine, after all. Always will be.

Ryan? He doesn't have a choice. Not only is it HIS FIRST DAY OF KINDERGARTEN and OH MY, THE PICTURES THAT WILL BE TAKEN...but he has a surplus of supplies to carry in tomorrow that more than quadruples his own weight. And I'm talking more than a couple of pencils here, people. He welcomes my company, and though he is STOKED to be going to "Jay's school", I am certain there are some nerves brewing within. My first clue was his jitters during orientation yesterday, and how he stayed as close to me as he possibly could. ie: my lap. My second clue was the fact that he has had more diarrhea today than he has ever had with a stomach bug. He is perfectly fine otherwise which leads me to believe it's his little nerves. Poor thing. I am nervous for him, though I know he will be perfectly fine. He's been preschooling since nearly exiting the womb it seems, so he definitely has a groove with being away from home and being within a structured learning environment. It's just such a LARGE environment and he is such a SMALL child, that's all. He'll do great, and I know that...but he's still my baby and I will always worry.

Never mind the fact that, hello, MY BABY IS GOING TO SCHOOL FULL TIME!! Did I mention that? All those days I spent wishing he could be in school already...if I could only take them back now. Isn't that typical; we can't wait for them to crawl and walk, then we wish they would sit still. Can't wait for them to talk, then we wish they would shut up. Can't wait for them to GO AWAY ALREADY, then wish like hell we could hold them in our arms forever. Bittersweet irony, and it sucks. I look forward to this new chapter in our boys' lives, both for them, as well as for us. Justin looks forward to keeping an eye on his baby brother, and Ryan looks forward to showing off his cool FOURTH GRADE brother to his little kinder pals. Because you know, it's Jay's last year of elementary school and the only year in which they will be in the same school together until high school. High school. I think I might die when that day actually comes.

So we are all prepared; supplies labeled and backpacks loaded and ready beside the door. New clothes all ironed and hanging in their closets, new shoes laced and ready to get scuffed. Ryan's physical and shot records loaded into his homework folder, and car riders name tags ready to go in the windshields for afternoon pickup. Lunches to be packed tomorrow with the 234234324 million dollars worth of groceries and snacks we bought in preparation for dual packed lunches, though I'm fairly certain they will soon succumb to the scrumptiousness that is cafeteria food. But for now, I'll try to do my part in giving them a little something to look forward to in their lunch bags each day -- complete with my daily love notes.

With everything in order and as it should be, and with both of the boys eager and ready for their first day, why am I a nervous wreck? My insides are doing jumping jacks and well, let's just say I'm just as friendly with our toilets as Ryan. Tomorrow I will be dropping off my boys and returning to an empty house. No more babies. No more babies.

Progress

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Wed, 06 Aug 2008 23:51:00 +0000

Now, it's beginning to look like a house.

Looking into the garage. Directly behind the garage wall is the master bath, and behind that is the master bedroom.

Standing in the foyer, looking into the family room. Behind the family room is the kitchen and dining area. To the far right is a hallway with a linen closet, two bedrooms and two bathrooms.

Standing in the laundry room with the master bathroom to my left and the master bedroom behind the wall. Two large windows on the back wall, and two two foot windows up high on the left wall.

Mom's New Home

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 20:37:00 +0000

With the first day of framing on schedule for tomorrow, here is where we are today. It may not look like much right now, but Luke assures me that by this time next week? We'll be looking at a HOUSE!

The lumber has arrived.

Pulling into the driveway.

It's Robinson, not Robison.

Partial view of the basement while standing in the garage looking down.

The basement french doors.

Looking into the garage from the driveway.

Standing in front of the garage, looking at the front porch.

He was Warned

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 00:47:00 +0000

But apparently, he couldn't read.

Time Flies

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 13:54:00 +0000

With the return of school rapidly approaching, we've been balls to the walls here with trying to make the most of our boys' summer break. With pool days, sleepovers, movies, and a trip to Busch Gardens checked off of our list, all that remains is one round of Kings Dominion and a trip to the beach. We have exactly 22 days in which to have this accomplished.

Tomorrow I will be spending the day with Mom, who will be undergoing some heavy oral surgery. With having to start with one dentist's office in one county, traveling to another dentist's office in another county, and then returning back to the first office, the entire procedure will take her approximately six hours including travel time. She is extremely nervous all the while anxious to get this behind her. While I know she will do great, my worries have instead shifted over to that of the safety of my children as they spend the entire day under the sole supervision of THEIR DAD. Please bow your heads and pray.

Mom's house is coming along beautifully. With steady progress being made even as I type, we are all anxiously awaiting some walls to be framed so we can get a better vision of what it's all going to look like. You can only be so imaginative when staring at four concrete walls built into luscious red clay. They always look so small, and while we were standing there staring at it Saturday morning, Mom and I agreed that it looked as though you could fit a bedroom and a family room in there. Add to that two more bedrooms, two and a half baths, a laundry room, and a large eat in kitchen. We just couldn't see it. By next weekend we should be better equipped and able to walk in and out of each and every room. I forgot how exciting the building process actually is, as it has been SEVEN YEARS since we built our home. That absofreakinglutely blows my mind. Seven years. We moved in September 7, 2001, just four days prior to 911. Seems just like yesterday...

The boys will begin their first class at the local martial arts facility today. I know nothing about it, other than to have them there this afternoon as this is entirely Luke's idea. Yet another responsibility which will occupy a minimum of three days per week, possibly more depending upon how well the boys enjoy themselves. A minimum of three days a week when I will be shuffling kids around and ordering takeout. A minimum of three days a week when I will be wishing for it all to be over. Did I mention fall baseball? Because that is right around the corner as well. And flag football? Yeah, that too. Summer is ending and it's time to kick it back into over drive. I think my transmission might be slipping; or perhaps it fell out two miles ago. I'm perfectly content while idling through our remaining weeks of staying up late, sleeping in, and preparing dinners to eat as a family at our very own kitchen table. Forgive me, I'm selfish.

Business is finally booming again. Feast or famine here, as we are now trying to figure out how we can schedule the abundance of jobs we have been awarded as of late. Having just recently downsized our crews due to the lack of work to keep them busy, we are now trying to accommodate all of our contractors and homeowners without having to hire on any additional laborers. Less money out and more money in; music to my ears! Did I mention that we're building a house on top of it all? I'm anticipating later evenings for Luke, and less time spent as a family in the afternoons. The boys will have to learn to hit my fast balls in the front yard and deal with the fact that I will be whipping their asses while shooting hoops to our favorite game of "Horse" in the pool; Daddy is hard at work and frankly, you like this house and this pool right? Because we'd sure like to keep it!

More to come, as soon as the laundry is complete and the family is fed. There is so much to tell, as I have dropped the ball on this thing for so long. Regular posting should resume sometime before the twenty second century. Maybe.

Of Course

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 17:54:00 +0000

I kid you not, as soon as I published the last post, the auditor was sitting in my driveway. That is the God's honest truth. While I was relieved to see he had finally made it, I had my ass upon my shoulders and was prepared to let him know just how much of an inconvenience his being nearly two hours late has been to me and my children. When scheduling appointments, people readily assume that you can be available all day, if need be, for the technician or whomever to arrive at your home. Evidently, we don't have responsibilities that day, other than to sit through what is usually a four to six hour window of arrival time. Granted, yes I am a stay at home mom, and yes our office is in our home. But I do have a life, people! :)

So yeah, my blood pressure is rising as I have burned out two hours of what could have been cleaning out Ryan's room or having lunch with my children as I wait for your arrival. I am ready to give you every piece of my mind, regardless of the fact that it wouldn't make one shit's difference at this stage in the game. I've been inconvenienced, it happens, and I need to get over it and move on. But I have cramps, mister, and quite frankly you don't want to cross me today. The dogs are the least of your worries. And did I mention Jake has been skunk'd only two short days ago and STILL smells as though he is dripping with skunk spray after two tomato juice baths and one conditioning dog shampoo scrub? I could do you more harm, I have every confidence.

Just when I am ready to be a hard ass, I open the office door to find a meek, handicapped old man hobbling toward my home with a cane. At that instant, I became engulfed with the flames from Hell, fell over, and died. I couldn't have possibly been any more polite to this man, and I felt like a complete and total asshole for even contemplating my plan of attack. Bless his heart.

In Waiting

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 15:19:00 +0000

With the sounds of Christmas carols bellowing from our family room, I am hard at work in the office this morning in preparation for our worker's compensation audit which is presently an hour and a half late to begin. I have printed off all of the required reports and readied the boys with bowls of cereal and a movie of their choice (Elf). I have begged begged begged them to be on their BEST behavior while the auditor and I are in the office this morning, which was shortly after 10am. After calling to tell me he is running an hour late, he is now ninety minutes late. While the boys have been quiet as church mice for the past hour, I type this with fingers crossed that they can hang in long enough to complete the audit. Whenever that will be...

Went car shopping on the fourth of July. In hopes of finding something affordable, as well as having better gas mileage than the tanks we currently drive, we found several cars that would suit our needs. While I was pulling for the Mazda 6, Luke's heart was content with the VW Jetta. In the end, we settled with a shiny and new 2008 John Deere 2305. Our car search crashed and burned once Luke decided that he would get more use out of a utility tractor than he would another vehicle. When he is working, he is driving his work van. When we travel as a family, we take my big rig. When he has baseball or decides to hunt his one day a year, he drives his truck. The only person that would benefit from a smaller car would be me, with my trips to Target and the pediatrician, the grocery store, and back to Target. I lost. But I will say, we'll have the purtiest three acres you ever did see once Luke gets to spend some time atop his new machine.

Still waiting on the auditor...now ninety seven minutes late. I have Ryan's room to gut this afternoon. As part of his birthday gift, I promised him a "new room". While entering a new chapter in his life as a child; that being an elementary school aged young man, he has now outgrown the cars and trucks theme he has had for the past three years. The paint has been purchased; Alpaca Gray. The new bedding arrived yesterday; Boston Red Sox. The new wall art arrived Monday; Boston posters and metal signs. Fenway Park is in the making, people, and it shall be fantabulous! He and I are both anxious to get in there and "de-baby" it, if you will. He has boxes ready to toss in all of his Diego's and Blues Clues that "are for babies". While it will be a sad adventure, I know we will have a blast completing it together. Little dude is growing up quickly.

I'll leave you here, in hopes that once I hit the publish button, the insurance auditor will arrive. Poor dogs have been locked up in the garage for the past two hours (with a fan) so that he could make a safe entrance with all of his limbs in tact. I'm thinking about letting them out, as he now deserves whatever they choose to do to him!

Happenings

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 14:19:00 +0000

The boys and I headed out to mom's yesterday to clean out her attic. I think mom must have lost about ten pounds with sweat from the blazing temperatures in that attic, as I could feel the heat just from standing half way up the ladder. We managed to empty the entire space, load my truck up with a landfill trip, then loaded it once more with a Goodwill trip. I suggested a yard sale, as this trip was ONLY of things from the attic and she still has another 2800 square feet of house to clean out, but she said there wasn't enough crap to justify the work it would entail. I volunteered, but she declined my offer and instead I picked her up a donation receipt for her taxes. Got to collect something for the goods!

For years, my brother has been searching for all of his Star Wars toys he had as a kid in the 70's. Mom had entered the attic numerous times in search for him, and always turned up empty handed. We could never figure out what had happened to all of his things. As she was handing boxes down to me on the ladder, we found that this one gigantic box labeled "Strawberry Shortcake" (I had a TON of dolls and accessories, as well as a gigantic dollhouse that is in my grandmother's attic) wouldn't fit through the hole. As she was takinig out the dolls and putting them into a large trash bag to pass down to me, HARK! There were the Star Wars; all underneath all of the Strawberry Shortcake toys!! In the attic for over twenty years, and still all in mint condition. I'm rather impressed, really, with how well taken care of they were considering how much my brother played with them. All of his fighter planes and all of the people in their carrying case; all in perfectly mint condition.

Once we were finally able to get in touch with him and share our news, he was absolutely thrilled with our discovery. Needless to say, the back of my car is still jam packed with boxes; my SS crap and all of his SW. We plan to set up a play area in mom's new unfinished basement, and I will set up all of the SS for Amelia when she comes to visit her Nana. Mom held onto everything, in hopes that one day I would have a daughter of my own to inherit the madness. While I was sifting through and tripping down memory lane, Ryan was all, "Why is everything PINK?" I digress...

Another find was mom's wedding dress to my dad from 1969; professionally preserved and packaged. She had carried it out to my car for the Goodwill trip, and I'll admit that I even walked it in to the donation center. While the attendant and I were at their computer checking off what I had brought in for the receipt, I had a strange feeling overcome me that turned me right toward that dress. I couldn't leave it there. Granted, my parents have been divorced for over twenty five years, but I still have photographs of them on their wedding day in my home, and that dress is far too beautiful and special to me to donate. I kept it. I had to. I'll put it into our storage room with Strawberry Shortcake and all of our Christmas decorations, and more than likely never open the preserved box, but at least I will have it.

The basement is dug, and we are anxiously awaiting the stamp of approval from the health department. The building permit is ready, but cannot be released until the approval from the health department. The concrete and framing estimates are in, and all parties are ready and waiting for the go ahead with construction. It's getting close people, and we are all very excited! I had to smile with mom yesterday; as we were resting in her living room, she looked over at an antique table, mirror, and two candle sconces that were once my great grandmother's and said she would like to put those in her new foyer. Her new foyer. We can't wait!

Don't believe I ever told you about Ryan's birthday party. Baby Boogie turned five last week, and a few days prior we had his party at the Field House. Berta was still under the weather from her surgery, but JC brought out her crew, a few cousins, and some neighbors. They played dodgeball, flag football, and soccer for an hour out on the field, then came into the ever-so-air-conditioned party room where you could see your breath for pizza and cake. Ryan had requested a Star Wars cake, and I brought along a few balloons, plates, and napkins. That was the extent of the theme, as the Field House takes care of everything for within their party plan. It was a wonderful time, and I am still finding it hard to believe that our BABY is now FIVE. Kindergarten won't know what hit them next month!

Our fourth of July was a blast -- Luke and I took the boys out for dinner and fireworks Friday night. I had a revelation while at Chili's, sitting there with my family, but almost as if I were sitting on the outside looking in. The boys were on their best behavior, Luke was his usual charming self, and I was sitting there realizing just how incredibly lucky I am. Lucky in life, and lucky in love. My husband and my kids mean more to me than I could have ever imagined. It was a perfect night. And while Luke will forever think I'm a dork for taking pictures all night long, I will be forever grateful that I did. My God, do I love those people!

Saturday we cooked out here with some family and friends. Crabs and steaks were on our menu, as well as a little rain. We were able to eat and do some swimming before the storm rolled in, eventually chasing us inside. The kids bolted to the playroom, and some to the basement. We adults hung out with the food, and the smokers on the screened porch. It was still a party, and the fireworks went off around 10pm as we stood out on the deck under our umbrellas. They were illegal, and they were fabulous. We had a great time, despite the weather, and hope to have a hot and sunny repeat performance very soon.

Time to Kill?

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Tue, 08 Jul 2008 11:37:00 +0000

Take a minute to copy and paste this into the comments section, then share your own answers.

ONE WORD
from Kristina

YOU CAN ONLY TYPE ONE WORD!
Not as easy as you might think. Change the answers to suit you and pass it on. It's really hard to only use one word answers.

1. Where is your cell phone? CHARGER

2. Your significant other? WORK

3. Your hair? WET

4. Your mother? HOME

5. Your father? MARSHALL

6. Your favorite thing? MUSIC

7. Your dream last night? NONE

8. Your favorite drink? DIET

9. Your dream/goal? THIN

10. The room you're in? OFFICE

11. Your hobby? PICTURES

12. Your fear? SAFETY

13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? HERE

14. Where were you last night? VET

15. What you're not? SKINNY

16. Muffins? WHAT?

17. One wish list item? WEALTHY

18. Where you grew up? MARSHALL

19. The last thing you did? SHOWERED

20. What are you wearing? CLOTHES

21. Your TV? OFF

22. Your pets? EATING

23. Your computer? DELL

24. Your life? ACTIVE

25. Your mood? TIRED

26. Missing someone? YES

27. Your car? LINCOLN

28. Something you're not wearing? SHOES

29. Favorite store? ONLINE

30. Your summer? QUICK

31. Like someone? YES

32. Your favorite color? GREEN

33. When is the last time you laughed? YESTERDAY

34. Last time you cried? UNSURE

35. Who will reply to this? NOBODY

Slithery Saturday

noreply@blogger.com (Bek) — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 14:50:00 +0000

Packing it up from pulling weeds, I proceeded to walk into the garage when I spotted this rather large and shiny creature laid out in front of me, turning in toward the garage which was sitting wide open. His tongue twitching, I hurried to close the garage door, as he was rapidly approaching. The dogs and I flew inside and I panicked. I called our neighbor in Luke's absence to come and kill it, only to be told that he won't kill it, but will remove it. Whatever, I don't care. JUST GET IT OUT OF MY DRIVEWAY! Once he arrived, the snake had proceeded to slither away from our house, as you see in the picture, and back into the woods. Our neighbor educated me in the good of black snakes; they eat mice and keep the copper heads away. If they were to bite one of the dogs (which I asked about) it wouldn't even hurt them as they have small teeth as opposed to fangs. While we were talking, it slithered off into the woods, and I hope to God that I never ever see him again. Ever.