Don't get between a man and his parking spot.

Today we will not speak of Whooping Cough or Algebra; though I still think both of the devil.

Today we’re going to talk about testosterone. It is a scary thing.

Sir D and I went out to dinner last night to discuss Will and his educational issue, which we are not going to talk about today on this blog.

Sir D has been working LONG hours at work. He is now in management and one of the people under him has been giving him pickled fits. It has been very stressful for him. He also has a cold and is just a little run down. Things have also been a bit stressful at home what with things from the devil and all.

We pull into the parking lot of a local Don Pablo’s Mexican restaurant. Normally Sir D will not go to a chain Mexican restaurant. We live in DFW, finding an authentic little hole in the wall Mexican place is not hard, but we were going for close-by and so that is where we went. Now I must say that the shirts they make their waiters wear should be considered criminal. Maybe that is why they were short on wait staff, I would starve before I’d wear that shirt, but I digress.

There we are, circling the parking lot, looking for a place to park. Sir D sees someone walking to their car and follows them; he waits off to the side to take their place when they leave. As we were waiting someone pulls up to the other side of where the car is pulling out and aims to take the space, but Sir D pulls in first; we had been waiting.

The guy in the little sports car started honking at us. He was not happy. He must not have seen us waiting (although we were in a king cab truck, kinda hard to miss) and thought we’d taken his spot.

Sir D was not in the mood to be pushed around by some ‘Punk Kid in Daddy’s car’. The Punk Kid rolled down his window presumably to shout unpleasant things at us. Sir D (who is not a small guy) hops out of the car and marches very quickly over to Punk Kid and his girlfriend, who are still sitting in the car.

If it wasn’t so embarrassing, it would have been comical. Punk Kid yelled “Hay!” at Sir D, in a deep, nasty tone. By the time Sir D made it to the car the kid’s tone had changed significantly. The kid said “Um, had you been waiting for that spot?” in a squeaky voice.

“Yeah, I had been, long before you pulled up” Sir D said in his deep voice.

“Oh, um, sorry” said the kid.

He and his girlfriend then drove off, looking a bit scared.

I sat in the truck shaking my head. When Sir D returned I asked him why he did that. Why didn’t he just let the kid and his girlfriend have the spot, or ignore the honking at the very least?

Sir D said “This is Texas, that boy’s gonna get himself shot if he keeps that up. I was just teaching him a lesson. And I’m not in the mood to be pushed around by some little Punk Kid showing off for his girlfriend”

Testosterone. It is a mighty powerful thing.

I think I'll settle for average after-all.

It's seems Will's tutor has reached her limit. She is done with him. I can't say I blame her.

I am trying to have some perspective. This morning, after I talked to her I got angry, then I cried, then I went outside on my deck and sat in the sunshine and took it to the Lord.

After the Lord and I had a good talk, (okay, I mostly talked and He mostly listened) I had an idea that I think was inspired. I came up with a way to get through this. I needed some advice from an acquaintance first though, so I called her. She is a wonderful lady who has/is raising 4 boys. 2 are out of the house, 2 are still at home being homeschooled.

Talking to her helped me immensely. She had some real wisdom to share with me. I needed to hear it.

We have a plan, we know where to go from here. The world did not stop spinning, but it is not going as I had planned. Will's schooling is not going to end up the way I thought it would. Turns out, he's not a rocket scientist or a Rhodes scholar. He's an average student. Why is that bad?

My friend said something to me that really stopped me in my tracks. She said, no one wants their kids to be average. We want them to either be above average, or we want a reason why they're not; like ADD, ADHD, Dyslexia or whatever. If there is a reason for them not to be above average, okay. But if their is not, well they better excel.

Here is the thing, average is average. It's not bad, it's not bottom of the barrel, it's in the middle.

I am not suggesting we settle for mediocrity and I don't think she was either, but the point is, to be above average in everything might just be a little more pressure than a 16 year old boy can handle.

I'm listening God.

And just in case you were wondering, I now not only think Whooping Cough is from the devil, but so is algebra!

Office of Parental Revocation

Could someone please tell me where I need to go to turn in my parenting card? I do believe it has been revoked. If not, it should be.

Will failed his algebra test today. Sadly this is not the first time. The thing is, it was an OPEN BOOK test. How does one fail an open book test? Not only did he fail it, but he seemed surprised that he failed. He told me he thought he did well on it. So again, how does one fail an OPEN BOOK test and not even know it? His tutor is going to call me tonight. I can feel her judgment. I know she must be wondering what kind of parents we are.

I also got a call from the head of the Dyslexia lab about Ann. Ann forgot to give the note I sent, to her teacher. Ann currently looks awful. While she is clean and polished and her hair is done and her clothes are clean, matching, and appropriate to the season, she still looks like no one is taking care of her.

She is still coughing, and now one of her eyes is all bloody. She burst a blood vessel in her eye coughing so much. The Dr. said it was no big deal; it will go away on its own. But it just looks awful.

Also, she’s going around telling everyone she has Whooping Cough. And let me tell you, she looks like she has some sort of previously-thought-to-be-eradicated childhood disease.

So the director was understandably concerned when she heard Ann saying she had Whooping Cough and there was no explanation from mom. I had to explain to her when she called, that yes, it was most likely Whooping Cough, though it had not been confirmed through testing because the lab tech did not take a sufficient swab of her nasal passages when we schlepped all the way downtown on a Saturday morning to get this joyful little procedure done. And that even if it was confirmed, she is no longer contagious so says the Dr. that we have seen no less than 3 times in 2 weeks. Although, yes she probably was contagious for whooping cough earlier when I was indeed sending her to class, because the Dr. assured me, at that time, that it was just allergies and she was okay to go to school.

Just call me Mary, Typhoid Mary.

So if someone could please direct me to the Office of Parental Revocation, I’d appreciate it. Or you know, if any one else would like to lodge a complaint against my parenting technique, or complain about one of my children, please take a number.

Still Whoopin It Up.

Still cough, cough coughing.

Still hack, hack, hacking.

Still gasp, gasp, gasping.

Still wheeze, wheeze, wheezing.

These are still the sounds of my life.

I still think Whooping Cough is from the devil.


We're off to see the wizard doctor again today. 4th time in three weeks if you count the Children's Hospital.

All I can say is, just be glad germs don't travel through cyberspace. My website may be germ free but I assure you my home is teeming with them.

This and That, Here and There

I have to drive downtown to run the Scotthis Rite carpool today. For a while we (the carpool) were paying a guy and his wife to drive for us. They were a really sweet couple with two darling preschoolers. They decided to become missionaries.

Humm? Is driving 3 3rd graders that bad? Apparently it is, they felt they needed to flee the country.

Oh, they said it was a calling from God, but I wonder.

So here I am today, getting ready to drive the carpool downtown. On the upside, we are listening to Henry Huggins in the car to keep the kids quiet for their entertainment. I forgot how much I enjoy that little guy.

Ann has her end of year testing today. I am praying that they’ll take one look at her test results, declare her cured of all dyslexia and send her home, never to return.

What?

It could happen!

I guess I aught to go get dressed. I don’t think they would appreciate me showing up in my robe, though it would serve them right for requiring me to be there before noon.

Enjoy your day. It’s going to be a beautiful one here. 72 and sunny with a little breeze. But don’t worry, we’ll get our just desserts this summer when it’s 572 degrees with %130 humidity. I won’t be bragging then.

I'm Working! I'm Working!

I have a confession to make. I can often be found in my bathrobe in the morning. There is nothing especially shocking about that except that I have been known to stay this way until 8 or 11.

It’s not that I am lying around, really. I get up and we do Bible, and then I get the kids going on school, then someone needs help, then Will needs me to work with him on his paper, then Ann needs me to do her Scottish Rite homework with her then, what? it’s noon and I’m still in my robe. Not because I’ve been lazing around you see, but because I’ve been to busy to shower and get dressed!

The problem is where I live. I live in a community across from a major missionary base. It is a wonderful neighborhood where everyone knows everyone else; the kids all play together and I really can (and have) borrow an egg from a neighbor. It has all the benefits of a commune, without the polygamy, unfortunate fashion choices, braded hair and brainwashing.

But see the thing is, people stop by in the morning sometimes; they want to give me something one of my kids left at their house or borrow some sugar or an egg, and I am still in my bathrobe.

I PROMISE I am working hard! I am not watching the morning shows and eating cinnamon buns. I only do that in the summer don't do that! REALLY!

Whoopin' it up.

Cough, cough cough.

Hack, hack, hack.

Gasp, gasp, gasp.

Wheeze, wheeze, wheeze.

These are the sounds of my life.

I think Whooping Cough is from the devil.

They have WHAT?

Perhaps it is somewhat unwise to say things like ‘For all that is good and holy, just BE SICK for goodness sake.’

It seems we have whooping cough around here. Yes you read that right; whooping Cough. Also known as Pertussis. That is one of those childhood diseases that we got our children immunized for.

Yeah, that worked well.

So back when I made this comment, ’It sounds like every person in my house has consumption, tuberculosis and a two pack a day smoking habit!’ it seems I was not too far off the mark. We have the only 1920’s illness I did not mention. Pertussis.

I do believe when I heard this, the words ‘You’ve got to be joking’ came out of my mouth.

I’m afraid it is no joke.

Shingles, head lice, (don’t ask, it was horrible) broken jaws, asthma attacks and now Whooping Cough.

Also in the last several weeks we’ve replaced a broken hot water heater, a broken dishwasher, fixed cars, had a car accident, replaced a couch and Sir D’s cell phone broke, and Sir D has taken on a new position that has him AWOL from home.

And did I mention my children have Pertussis?


UNCLE!

I LOVE a Fiesta!

The following is a re post from October. I am sad to admit, I am still wearing the same shirts, carrying the exact same bag, and wearing the exact same flats.

The shirts are now short sleeves however, and the jeans are now shorts or Capris. But the overall appearance is the same. I am boring. I think I am scared of print. D0 they have a 12 step program for this?

For instance, I bought this shirt from Old Navy.

It is cute, and it fits, but I put it on and then before I leave the hosue, I take it off. It is too loud.

I think I need fashion therapy.

However, I did buy these shoes as well as the black and white one's below and they match with everything! (Except the above shirt. I do know that much)

I LOVE them. I get lots of complement on my fun shoes, but I think that next to all the bland solid colors, the pattern on my feet draws the eye away,and that is totally okay with me. My feet have not added nearly the inches that the rest of me has. So, yeah, look at my cool shoes. See how skinny my feet look in them!




****The Following is a repost from October***


I went to Target today. I shouldn’t have because that store is a giant cash eating black hole for me, but I did it.

I bought my winter wardrobe. I am hoping that if I spend money on warmer clothes, I’ll actually have a chance to wear them.

So here is what I bought. I am so boring. This is just the long sleeve version of my summer wardrobe. And instead of jeans, in the summer, I’m in jean shorts. WHOO HOO! Such a fashionista I am!

I did buy a multicolored striped purse and some flats that had some pattern in them (I can’t tell you how happy I am that flats are back!!!) but for the most part, everything I own is a solid color.

Here are a few of the things I bought.

They had this shirt on sale so I bought a few more in various colors; one can never have too many solid colored T’s in TX.

Then I bought several colors of this, just like above, but note the longer sleeves.

I did go a little crazy and get this version with a peter pan color, but I bought it in black so I can wear it to church.


And let's not forget the must-have hoodie. (AKA a sweatshirt if you're over 18.) I do own a nice coat to wear to church on the 3 Sunday's a year that it is necessary, but mostly I just wear this. I also have a nice crocheted sweater, but well, that is harder to wash, so I stick with the old standby. Could I get any duller? Hello grey, my old friend!

I think if my sister in laws knew I was buying more solid colored shirts they‘d have a fit. Someone has to be the plane jane in the family, and I take that position very seriously!

Lawsey Mercy people. The coughing!

It sounds like every person in my house has consumption, tuberculosis and a two pack a day smoking habit!

And it’s been like this for weeks. They just cough and cough and cough. I’ve taken some of them to the doctor and he tells me they just have a little spring cold.

Spring cold my foot, they’re dying of consumption!

All night long; cough, cough, cough.

We have humidifiers running, which was really funny to me last night as the rain was coming down in sheets and we are using a handy dandy little machine to humidify our air. Brilliant! We have purchased enough cough drops to supply an army. We have propped them up, given them herbal, throat soothing teas, and NyQuil. Nothing will stop the incessant coughing! I’m about ready to try a hot toddy!

No one has fevers, no one has green snot, no one is even feeling all that bad other than a complaint of a raw throat now and them. It is that horrible sorta sick place.

For all that is good and holy, just BE SICK for goodness sake.

Or stop coughing. One or the other, please! It’s not so hard; be sick or be well.

But LORD HAVE MERCY, stop the coughing!


***If you're entering my blog on this page only, click refresh and go to the most recent posts. You'll see waht all the coughing was about***