He is six and I am old

I've decided if I have to catch up on all I've missed blogging about I will never ever blog again.

So I'll jump right in to life.

Today was Bub's 6th birthday party. We bowled with a whole passel of 5 and 6 year olds. It was fun in a sort-of "pop an extra Valium" way. Babycakes face planted into her cupcake with the relish of one who has never had to worry about her calorie intake. It made for cute pictures, at least. I decided I'm pro-bumper bowling even for adults. Who needs those blasted gutters anyway?

In other news....Friday was cow-eye dissection day for 5th and 6th graders. My students LOVED it and, surprisingly, I did too. Eyeballs are fascinating, and miraculous. Plus they're not even that gross.

Since going back to work full time I've discovered something about myself: I am a good teachers. Sure, in some ways I'm a novice. And I have plenty to learn. I'm not perfect, but I am good. It's my thing, my sweet spot. I am a good teacher. This is somehow important in those moments when I really royally screw up other things. Like, ah say, cooking, or ahemm...remembering to return library books, or charging my cell phone. I might be a space cadet, but at least I am a smart, well-intentioned space case.

When Peace Like a River...

Yesterday a thing happened.

It was a thing among many, globally speaking. But on a personal basis it was big, and sad.

My cousin died.

I don't have a lot of facts about what happended yet, and it doesn't really matter how many facts I get in the end. Because, facts or no facts her story never got the "happily ever after" of the fairy tales.

My cousin was bright; brilliant even. She was funny, and quirky and, did I mention she was quirky. She had beautiful brown eyes, and a sweet face. She was a voracious reader with an appetite for knowledge that I have rarely seen equaled.

But my cousin's life was filled with pain, and sorrow, and brokenness, and disease. Her's is a sad story...incomplete, and too quickly ended.

It makes no sense.

So tonight, when it doesn't make sense to me I'll trust that it does make sense to HIM. Just because I can't see the "happily ever after", doesn't mean the prince forgot to come.
He did.
He will.
He is.

And my cousin knows that better than anyone this side of gloryland.

Season's Change

I am atrociously horriblish at blogging these days, and that makes me sad. Blogging has been my therapy and solace for the last couple of years. It's the journal that I used to keep and the photo album that I never do. I know I will likely post infrequently in the coming months, but I'm not quite ready to retire my pseudonym; Curlyjo is not hanging up her hat just yet.

Summer has been a frenzy of good and bad. We evicted tenants. Bad - in case you were wondering. We finished our basement into an apartment, and rented it to our new favorite childcare provider/friend. Good! Good! Good! We (as in Eddie) launched a new business venture. We (as in me) signed a contract to work full time as a teacher after spending the better part of a decade as a stay at home mom.

And time keeps on tickin' tickin' tickin'.

Monday is my first official day back to school. Inservice, and back-to-school night kept me busy this last week. There were moments of feeling overwhelmed. There were moments of "mom guilt" over being away from my kids for so many hours, and not missing them a bit. But for the most part I am super duper excited about this new gig. I love my job. I love my co-workers. I am ready for this new season, and I think my family is too.

New topic:

I am working on forgiveness these days. We were well and truly screwed by the short time tenants in our rental property. They lied, they stole, they destroyed, and they were generally without remorse.

It's my Pollyanna slash Leave it to Beaver outlook in life that was primarily responsible for this fix we're in. I sort of assume people are telling me the truth. HA!

Big fat liar meany heads!!!!!

Part of me wants to make them pay; I want to sue their sorry butts
for the time and money we've lost. It's a lot, and ah...we deserve it.

BUT...the grown-up me knows bitterness and cynicism are NOT the things I want to define me. I know that if I hold on to my right inflict justice I give those crummy lying people influence in my life, and my heart. Those people trashed my house and gunked up my summer; they will not have my fall, or my winter, or my spring. I forgive them, because I want to be free of them...

after I slash their tires....

and superglue their fingers together...

and deliver them a dinner of salmonella infected fried chicken.

THEN I'LL FORGIVE...

Or maybe I'll forgive today...

maybe right now...

maybe for the 3rd time in 24 hours.

getting to know me

This is me:

http://www.personalitypage.com/INFP.html


It's actually kinda creepy how will this describes certain aspects of me. Like, make a note of this, I HATE HATE HATE mundane details. Hate them. A lot.

But I can do details if I must.

Case in point: evicting tenants. I felt very screwed over, by the liars-liar-pants-on-fire tenants we have. I was determined that our case would not be thrown out on the basis of some minor error. It was not. I was detailed to the point of neurosis, and that is saying something if you ever got a peek inside my brain.

If this school teacher gig doesn't work out I might consider law school.

Also, I think I resent the whole not logical thing. I'm logical; it's a matter of survivial. I'm married to my husband, that couldn't happen if I was entirely ruled by emotions. Have you met my husband?

good days

Today was a good day.

My husband, who loves me, brought me Starbucks' Java Chip ice cream. It has roughly a bajillion calories, and worth every last one.

The sunset is glorious.

I have 3, make that 4, unread books on my nightstand.

The baby had a rip roarin' fever, which is technically NOT good. The sickness was redeemed by the fact that I got to sit and snuggle her for most of the day. This is a thing she would not typically tollerate. She is 2 - places to go, people to see, right?

Only a couple of weeks until I start work...nervous about managing the rest of my life, but oh so excited for the job. Expect blogging to remain pathetic.

We adore our housemate/tenant/nanny. She rocks! I think she likes us okay too.

E's fake tooth looks better than his real one, and our dental insurance covered it. Can I just say that I like, really like, being an american in this century. We definately have the corner good fake teeth.

I always spell "definately"wrong...all them gosh dern vowels confuse me.

I need to bathe...or shower...or maybe I can stay dirty for 12 more hours and read one of those books on my nightstand instead.

shootin' you with bullets

My posts, as of late, are nothing more than a smattering of bullet points. Allow me to shoot you with bullets one more time:

-Today we went to court hoping our irritating tenants would not show up and we'd win our eviction case by default. No such luck. They answered our complaint. The answer was pretty much garbled googly-gunk that won't hold water in court. But, on the upside for the defendants, they get another week rent free until our trial date. I spent the afternoon talking to every real estate lawyer who would give me audience. Our case is good. But I am suspicious that having a just case is not the same thing as getting justice.

-We're making BLT's tonight for dinner, because it's summer.

- The boys are going camping this weekend. It's the 8th annual all boys, no-moms-allowed, camping trip. Picture Lord of the Flies and you'll get the idea.

-Yesterday evening Eddie and I went on an actual-real-life date. We ate Pei Wei (which Eddie's dad pronounces Pee Wee, as in Pee Wee Herman, do you remember him?). Delish! Then we walked around Colorado Mills Mall. A salesman in Perry Elis mistook us for cool, culturally with-it people. He kept dropping these references to people/things in popular culture. Finally I said, "Dude, did you think we were cool? We're not cool; we have no idea what you're talking about."

He seemed to respect that.

-I've started lesson planning. I'm contemplating the purchase of a cow eye-ball for disection. Go figure.

-I am, again, committing myself to the consumption of vegetables. Loosing weight is such a pain; couldn't they just make veggies taste more like cookies?

Dude

I don't know when it happened, exactly, but it happened. A word snuck into my vocabulary, a four letter word, in fact.

"Dude"

I call my sons "Dude" - both of them. Sometimes, I even call my daughter "Dude".

Hello, I am a 33 year old mother of four. I am a school teacher for goodness sakes. I should not say "dude".

So I say to my self: "Self: we are not Keanu Reeves. We have never, nor will we ever, be an adolesent residing in Southern California. We are mature. We are responsible. We are educated. Like, git a grip, like, you have gray hair."