Meet the Teachers

Last night was open house/meet the teacher night at my children's school. For  the first time I would have more than one teacher and assistant to meet, as we decided to put my twins in different classes this year. As luck would have it, yesterday was an extremely rough day for me. I was on the second day of an all out migraine headache, from which I finally got some relief after my husband made a trip to town expressly to refill my Relpax prescription. (Thanks, hon.)  Anyone who has ever had a migraine and then taken a Relpax can appreciate the condition that I was in, suddenly pain free for the first time in 48 hours, exhausted and now slightly drunk. I arrived at the school with the traveling circus that is now my life, three kids and two enormously heavy bags of school supplies in tow. Scooping up one brown grocery bag of supplies (only one of my bags had handles) I then grabbed the other one while simultaneously attempting to keep my kids from getting run over. Reminding myself that reinforcements were on the way in the form of my husband, I trudged into the school. Naturally, I had parked in front of the school so that I would have to walk at least half a mile to the gym carrying the supplies. It didn't help my feelings when I remembered that there was a parking lot immediately adjacent to the door I needed to go in, or when I saw that it was approximately half full. By the time we all made it to the gym, I was sweating like the proverbial whore in church. I could feel the sweat rolling down the center of my back and into my underwear. As the rows of chairs finally came into view, I was thinking I couldn't remember a time I was more excited to sit down. Heading toward the promised land, I heard an extremely perky voice coming out of a smiling face. "If you'll just sign one of these sheets..." the voice said, and its owner motioned toward a table of sign in sheets. Allow me to remind you of the situation here. Picture me, aggravated and sweating, exhausted and sort of drunk, carrying an extremely heavy shopping bag and balancing an equally heavy one on my hip, with three small very excited kids in tow. I didn't say a word, but the look on my face probably said a lot. I was thinking, "REALLY?" but I'm pretty sure it came across as "Go to hell." (Which was totally and completely unintentional, by the way. It definitely was not the sort of first impression I wanted to make.) She sort of backed up a step and then stammered, "Uh, you can put your stuff down first." I managed a weak smile and a nod before bulldozing my way to the chair that was calling my name. Fortunately, I think I was able to come across as not a complete witch to my kids' teachers. They were thrilled, one mostly because her classroom is in the yellow hallway, which is apparently much more grown up than the red one that  her sister's room is on. Who knew? Anyway, everyone and their brother has offered their opinion on whether we should put the twins in different classes. So here's my story and I'm sticking to it. We are trying to do what is best for each of our girls, even if it means that things are more difficult for their parents from time to time. We want to encourage them to be individuals rather than just part of a set. And for the record, I was an only child. We are totally making this up as we go. But don't tell them that.   

Goodbye, beach!

Today was my last morning at the beach. Something about the sights, sounds, and smells of that place just makes me want to sit in a chair and do absolutely nothing for a few moments of bliss. I could listen to the seagulls and the waves crashing on the shore for hours at a time and be completely content. But I miss the heck out of my animals, so we are headed home. We farmed out a horse, a cat, and a dog for this trip, so I know at least three creatures who are really ticked at me. The corgis had company last night when the neighbors came to swim, so they shouldn't be too miffed. Honestly, it's our menagerie of animals that keeps us from traveling more than we do. Time to thin the herd! (Yeah, right.)

My big girls spent their beach time with their grandparents, so the baby was on her own with us. She wormed her way into our bed for the first time since she was a crying, nursing newborn this weekend. It was just too hard to turn her down when she opened the door and said, "Can I sleep with y'alls?" (Y'alls is the plural of y'all, for those of you who don't speak Sheridan.)

She may have been in bed with us, but there sure wasn't much sleeping going on. She tossed, turned, flipped, talked, sang, kicked us in the back, smacked us in the face, touched our faces, pulled my hair...pretty much anything and everything she could do but let us go to sleep. She has been sleeping with her sisters all summer (they fight over whose turn it is every night) and sometimes they will say, "I'm just too tired tonight. I don't want her to sleep with me." Now I know EXACTLY what they mean by that. It is by no means a restful sleep when Sher is in your bed.

We are almost home, and I can't wait to see my animals and sleep in my own bed. I have a new barrel horse that I love, and it almost killed me not to go barrel racing this weekend. Our beach trip was planned long before we got Hank and we were all looking forward to it, so off to the beach we went. It was oddly quiet this weekend, as the baby didn't have anybody to fight with and could watch whatever she wanted on tv. Now the gang's back together again, and if you're wondering how long it was before they started fighting, wonder no more. It was at least 30 seconds.

Beach Vacation

Hello again! For those of you who wondered if my little darlings had tied me up and set me on fire, or perhaps that I had met some other unfortunate end, let me assure you I am alive and well. My life has been moving at the speed of light the last few weeks, and I simply haven't taken a moment to sit down and write about it. I've been too busy living it!
At this very moment I'm sitting in one of my favorite places on the planet, a balcony overlooking the beach in Orange Beach. My husband is not a beach person (we went snow skiing on our honeymoon, for crying out loud) so I haven't been down here for at least 11 years or so. Even though this hasn't been the lazy, lie around and nap/tan/write/cross stitch beach vacation I had in mind, it has still been wonderful. My fabulous, hard-working husband has a very difficult time relaxing. Doing nothing is not really his thing, so in thirty minutes we are going parasailing.
I can't put my finger on just what it is about the beach, but sitting in a chair listening to the water just makes something in my soul happy. People watching reminds me that I have nothing to be self-conscious about, as anyone down here will rock a bikini, no matter what her age or size. (I however, will not.) I needed an extra swimsuit, and your choices down here are dental floss bikinis or plus size. Since I am not currently in either of those categories, I decided to just wash and dry the suit I already have.
My babies are seeing the beach for the very first time. My big girls went with their cousin and grandparents, so the baby has had her dad and me all to herself this weekend. I have to say that yet another thing I love about my husband is his willingness to let a three year old plan our day. She slept until lunch, we went to the beach, and now we are about to go on a dolphin cruise. I know she won't remember this trip, but it has done us a lot of good to spend some one on one time with her. Mom and Dad's undivided attention can be hard to get at home.
I had grand plans about writing a bunch of blog posts, but I think I'll go enjoy my family instead. I could come here alone and write for days. Something about this place just lends itself to creativity. But my baby girl will only be little once...