Today

1- The oldest daughter, that was crazy independent/ornery the day she was born, and now she is a senior....
It has been tough/frustrating. With a large side of sad of what she's been through. But we survived almost eighteen years of it and Damn, it will serve her well in the real world. She moved into our renovated guest house during the summer.
Because, of the must have INDEPENDENCE. But I have to walk her out every night and tuck her in, because it's dark, and Moses has to go out and sleep with her. And can I please buy her some pepper spray?! even though she is five feet away.

2- The Second oldest daughter is a Freshman this year.
She has had weight issues starting when she was in fifth grade.
Last school year, at the end of her eighth grade she fit into a size 18/20.
Over the summer she decided to start running.
I bought her size 16's for new school clothes.
She started out running a few blocks. Then a paved jogging loop our town has at 2.8 miles.
She ran it twice tonight. Almost SIX MILES!
Her clothes are hanging off her!
She was just student of the month nominated by her PE teacher for knocking 2 minutes off her mile time!
I'm just SO crazy proud and need to buy Pom Pom's for me to cheer her on, and a new wardrobe for her!
Multiple exclamation points are totally justified in this case!

3- Twin A. My expressive language issues boy. The tree hugger/future Greenpeace President/snuggle bug. Who is crazy smart. Who was expelled last year because he is a "target" for bullies because he is different and finally defended himself. Who doesn't fit into the BOX, but still exceeds the test scores. Who has never watched a minute of Nascar because EWW, but still randomly informed me that lower tire pressure gave the drivers more grip on the road. ??? Anyway. He has an awesome teacher this year. Who gets him. And he does his homework without being asked. And the major issues now with his speech is that he doesn't have a problem with it.

4- My Twin B. Oh geez this guy. It would be all trouble except he is awesome. In the rare occasion that I have to discipline him, he breaks out the "truffle shuffle". The dude can make me laugh when I shouldn't and when no one else can.
He is ten. He is almost as tall as me and routinely steals my flip-flops and stinkifies them.

The husband- We've been together for twelve years. Married almost fourteen. We've struggled/overcame/struggled/overcame.
I know so much more now.
I love him. I always will regardless.
I am learning that sometimes it isn't enough.
I can't imagine my life without him.
But I have started to plan it.
He's isn't evil/bad... I just know that I will eventually tire of always being wrong/at fault/blamed.
I'm not being hasty. I will ride it out.
But I am now more realistic about it.
I DO truly love him. I DO NOT want anyone/anything but him and our life and our family.
I would happily celebrate 68 more years.
If it was a mutual goal.
But it's not entirely up to me.
I won't be the pathetic female victim.
I don't even know our bank account number. I don't have the passwords. I hand over my paycheck with a smile.
It's pretty shocking, looking back.
I don't pay the bills.
He pays the bills with his paycheck (lately partial un-employment) and then live off of my paycheck.
I vaguely know what we owe.
And I'm EMBARRASSED.
When it recently came to a *&^%* I asked him how he would feel if his sister did the same?
He did the, not OK, but a "shrug" answer.
My next payday I'm opening up my OWN account...and will let him ask ME for money.


And then my work, with it's skewed perspectives. My favorite (we're not supposed to have them!) was already retired when I was born. She will be 98 in January. And then my struggles seem so small.

Ahhh Suum!

Seriously?
I'm used to lumps in my boob.
WTF is up with this?
There is no laminated shower card instructing me to palpate this?

I noticed this last night, and thusly took the lousy palm centro pic.
The last time I was at the podiatrist (because my feet are ornery attention getters) was in May. He took X-rays of both feet and this (see attached) wasn't there then.
This is he behaving foot. The non cortisone shot foot. The favorite (my precious).
In my self diagnosing mode (meaning: avoid any and all dr.'s at all times):
It seems semi-attached to my ankle, not movable, not bony but not soft, more cartilagey (cartilagey is a real word that I just made up). It is a little tender, but that could be from me poking it, trying to get a confession out of it.
My RN sister says it some vague cyst don't worry (maybe she thinks she'll get money when I die) (she should know better).
My co-worker RN says get it checked out pronto (maybe she hopes I'll have to take time off and not have to deal with me).

I say this is the picture going on the Christmas Card this year regardless.
Hang that on your Christmas Tree, fuckers.

Not pictured: Perfectly Pink Pedicured toenails, with a CUTE (OMG!) flower!

Because that's what is really important.

Ichiro

Dear All-Star commentators,
It is not pronounced ' Itchy Row' please stop saying that.

Sincerely,
Gah!!

(I've never posted from my mobile before, so I'm not how sure how this will turn out)

Ruh-Roh

Somebody is afraid of fireworks (and thunder and balloons that might pop).

75lb lap dog for the next few days.

So much for Independence Days.

Of addictions, I have many.

Oh baseball, in all of your forms,

To you, I am your slave,

Of this I am sure.

It's no secret that I love baseball/softball etc.

I am a junkie.

All of my kids play for some reason.

It is my (nine year old twins) boys first year of pitch baseball.

No more T-ball.

No more pitching machine.

No more coach pitch.

This year in the (lack) of coaching, the coach just threw some boys at the mound to see what they thew back.

My twin A was not interested in pitching at all. Wasn't successful. With his energy level he is a perfect infielder.

My twin B, a lefty, was not too interested in pitching, but then sort of rocked it in a practice.

Tonight was game three of the season.

Twin B in his second EVER attempt at pitching, including practices, struck out four batters.

And I was thankful for the full face sunglasses to hide the embarrassing mom tears, and then I may have called all of my siblings to boast.

Winning at this age isn't the point. It is all about learning and experience, but ummm they (totally) won.

And I may have inappropriately cheered when he struck out the batters.

Oops.

What do you expect from a junkie?