My Real Life

1.  Monkey Girl and I played Band Hero on Saturday.

It’s been awhile since we’ve played, and we decided to change it up.

Usually, she plays drums or guitar and I do vocals, or I play guitar or bass and she does vocals.

I decided to try the drums.

I rocked those drums!

Granted…I was on the easy level (not beginner…one step up) but I was jammin’.

I think tomorrow, I might go for medium.

I think I have a new future.

2.  I’ve been watching Arrested Development while on the treadmill.

Never watched this show before, but people always said it was a show they thought I would like.

Good call, those people!

I’m loving it!

Always a Jason Bateman fan, and the rest of the cast is just as awesome, and the story is ridiculously hysterical.

Great show.

3.  I haven’t logged into Twitter for awhile.

I guess I kinda let it go for the summer.

Didn’t mean to…just forgot about it.

I use Twitter as a professional learning network.

I subscribe to a variety of different educators and educational journals and it’s a main way that I keep abreast of what is new and exciting in education.

I logged in Saturday night and caught up on a lot of great reading, just in time for the new school year.

Oh, and was surprised to see that, apparently, I must have somehow accidentally subscribed to follow Hugh Hefner on Twitter, as well.

In case you were wondering, the Saturday night movie at the mansion was Chariots of Fire.

4.  Tiny is utterly delightful.

Am I biased? Perhaps.

Don’t really care, and I’ll say it again, delightful.

He is in the stage where is vocabulary is bursting open and it is hysterical.

And delightful.

His newest thing is “I don’t know.”

You say, “Tiny, where is the White House?” and he says, “I don’t know” and shakes his head mournfully.

Say, “Tiny, where is your ear?” and he’ll touch his ear and say “Ear.”

Say it again and he’ll say, “I don’t know.”

He’s also really into “Awesome.”

It used to be “Cool!” and now it’s “Awesome!”

The other day, we were hanging in the bathroom, because one of his favorite games is “Pull all the bath toys out of the closet and throw them in the empty tub.”

Keeps him occupied for at least 15-30 minutes at a time.

So, while we were in there, he was chatting away, declaring things to be “Awesome” and so I pulled out the camera and recorded this little smidge of delightfulness for you:

One more time.

Delightful.

Until I had to clear the bath toys back out of the tub.

That was not delightful OR awesome.

5.  I was filling in our calendar for September (I use the Cozi app…phenomenal) and I suddenly realized that between work and carting the kids to all of their “stuff” after school, I may not have time to read another book until Christmas break.

That sucks.

It’s a fact…

Boys with older sisters get to try things that boys with only older brothers would get teased mercilessly for.

They get to paint their nails, try on princess dresses, put on makeup…

…and wear their sisters big, fluffy, purple bathrobes.

Or pretend to be purple Yoda.

Whichever.

He looks just like his Dad.

But he definitely got the ham gene from his sister.

The other day, I blogged about the coming of fall and how excited I was for that season.

That was all absolutely true.

However, in this last week of summer vacation, I’ve fallen into a funk.

I’ve been doing school work and am really excited about some new things I’m going to try this year.

The kids have gone supply shopping and we’ve done a bit of Back-to-School shopping, which is always exciting.

And yet…

I’m depressed.

From what I read on Facebook, parents everywhere are shuttling their kids to the bus stop and waving a hearty goodbye as they get on the bus and go to school.

Yet, I’m sad for the summer to end and for the kids to go back to school.

I’ve had a great time being with these four little people, and I’m not saying that these other parents didn’t…I just don’t want it to end.

We’ve fought and bickered, sure.  Today, in fact, Monkey in the Middle and Baby Monkey are spending a nice portion of the day in their rooms for fighting.

But, I’ve enjoyed every minute of it.

I’m tired and don’t want to do anything this week.

I just want to go to sleep and avoid the reality of the end of summer and maybe when I wake up, it will be July 1st and we can do it all over again.

I’m fighting it.  Definitely fighting the good fight.

Real Man and I got a lot of work done this weekend and I’ve got my week scheduled with other projects and things that need to be done, along with two days of workshops at school, so I’m not going to let myself check out.

But, it’s hard.

I know that once we all have our first days, I’ll be fine.

I’ll miss them like crazy, but I’ll be fine.

I’ve just got a week to get through before I get to that point, and I have a feeling it’s going to be a tough one.

‘Cuz I’m in a funk.

Have you ever had something happen to you and you are immediately transported back in time?

Yeah?

Me too.

I had an appointment at the orthopedist the other day and my Mom came over to watch the monkeys.

As I was leaving, she handed me the keys to her car and said “Wanna take my car?”

I said “Yes!” and flew out the door.

Every now and then, I love to drive someone else’s car.  It’s nice to drive something that isn’t the biggest car on the road.

My Mom has a new, bright red, Volkswagen Beetle.

Cute.

However, it’s quite a change going from a monstrous Ford Expedition to a Volkswagen Beetle.

Trust me on this one.

I get to the doctor, have my appointment,  and head back out to the car.

Not only is the Beetle lower to the ground than my Expedition, but the seat is lower in the car, as well, and as a result, it’s hard to see over the hood, which slants down rather quickly.

End result, my judgement was way off as I backed out of the space and tried to decide when I should start to turn the wheel to angle out of the space and not hit the pole next to which I was parked.

Way off.

I heard the scraping, swore a bit, and pulled back into the spot.

I knew it wouldn’t be good, but I didn’t want to look, so I re-backed out (without hitting the pole this time) and headed to the pharmacy.

The whole way to the pharmacy my stomach was flipping around and I was instantly 18 again.

In my senior year, I borrowed my Mom’s Toyota Tercel (loved that car…it was a stick…someday, I’ll drive a stick again…I really miss it) all the time.

One Monday evening in February was particularly snowy and icy, but our Key Club advisor decided we had to have a meeting anyway.

Kim was the President and I was the Vice-President, so we had to be there.

I picked Kim up and we headed to school.

However, even though I was going slowly, I hit a patch of black ice and the car slid into the guardrail and dented and scratched up the front bumper.

The whole meeting, all I could think about was what my Mom was going to say, (my Dad was out of town), and I was terrified.

I can’t say I was terrified the other day, but my stomach was in knots and while I waited for my prescription in the pharmacy, I noticed my hands were shaking.

When I got home, I asked about the kids and got a good report and we chatted for a bit and then my Mom said “How was driving the car?”

“Heh-heh…” I stammered.  “It was…um…well, I feel like a teenager right now, but…”

My Mom was just staring at me.

“I…uh…kinda scratched your car.”

As anticipated, there was a bit of a shriek-y “What?” and I explained what happened, but unlike when I was 18, I followed with, “…and of course, I’ll pay for the damage.”

In the end, she was fine, and completely got me back with a phone call, the next day, telling me that they had taken it in and the damage was $2,500, at which point I almost vomited and passed out simultaneously.

Then she told me she was joking.

She’s funny, that Mom of mine.

I wrote about this in my journal so that I can look back when one of the kids bangs up or scratches my car and remember how nervous I was, even as a 40 year old, to fess up to the damage and to be kind when it happens to them.

I have a feeling, though, that might not work.

I’m friends with a few former students on Facebook.

Very, very few.

However, of those I am currently friends with, the majority are heading off to college, either for the first time or to return after their summer break.

There are pictures being posted of dorm rooms, house rules, reunions with roommates, and just general excitement about being at college.

With every post, I think back to my first college days.

I went to The College of Wooster in Ohio, and my school was between a 7 and 9 hour drive, depending on who was driving.

When looking for schools, I remember that I wouldn’t even consider Wooster, because my Dad had gone there.  I felt the same about Trenton State (now the College of New Jersey) because it was my mother’s alma mater.

I had my heart set on Salisbury State in Maryland, until I went there and realized it just did nothing for me.

I decided to give Wooster a try, and my Dad drove me out.

I fell instantly in love.

It’s a small, liberal arts school that was plunked down in a town that felt like it was in the middle of cornfields for miles.

The buildings were all old and made of stone, and my Dad was able to tell me stories about each and every one.

I applied, I got in, I was thrilled.

As August neared, I received the letter that had my roommates name and contact information.

I daydreamed about who she was and what she might be like, and then I got up the courage to call her.

Unlike me, going so far from home, DeeDee lived 30 minutes away from campus.

She was dating her high school sweetheart and had a job at home and planned on going home each weekend.

I was disappointed because I had images of she and I becoming the best of friends and spending all of our time together, but this was how it was and I would deal with it.

I remember going college shopping with Kim.

There was this big drug store place that we went to get all of our toiletries and random items, like shower caddies, comforters, etc.

It was SO exciting and I loved looking at all of my new things, imagining what my life would be at Wooster.

One by one, we all left for school.

I made Kim, Erin and Michaela cassette tapes with music and me talking and being a goofball to remind them of home, and then we all started to leave.

Kim was the first to go to school.  The night before she left for Penn State, we all got together and cried and laughed and hung out.

Michaela left for Syracuse soon after, and a few days after that, Erin left for Grove City.

And then it was my turn.

My parents and I packed everything into the car and drove to my grandparents house, a few hours away from campus.  We spent the night, ate Kentucky Fried Chicken, and they slept while I stayed up all night, so nervous and excited.

The next day, they took me to Wooster and helped me move in.  Soon after they left, DeeDee showed up and moved in and then it was just the two of us.

We had our first floor meeting and I was pleasantly surprised to find a girl who had been in Kim, Erin, and my Brownie troop when we were in 2nd grade, but had moved to Connecticut after that.  It was so random, but really cool.  We liked the girls on our floor, and we liked each other.

There were growing pains, for DeeDee and I, along the way and we both learned a lot from each other.

I went home with her a few weekends and had a really good time.

She decided to stay on campus a few weekends and had a really good time.

My friend, Sandy, who lived in a neighboring town at home and had gone to church with me since I was in 2nd grade, also was at Wooster, living in a dorm across campus, and so she and her roommate, Cari, would come and hang with us sometimes as well.

I loved it.

I laughed more during my Freshman year than I think I did during any other year at college.

We had community showers in our dorm.  No stalls, just a big room with showerheads sticking out of the wall.

One night, I decided to take a shower after coming home from water aerobics (DeeDee and I were the only people under the age of 60 in the pool).

The night before, DeeDee and I had watched the movie “It” on television, so if you’ve ever seen it, you can imagine that I was a little edgy in a dimly lit community shower at night.

Suddenly, the lights went out.

“Hello?” I called.

Nothing.

“Hello?”

Nothing.

Then, things started to rain down on me…washcloths, loofas, shower puffs.

Scared the living daylights out of me.

Then, DeeDee’s hysterical laughter.

Then mine.

It was a time of finding myself, being independent.

Learning things like night-0wls shouldn’t schedule 8 am classes on Monday mornings.

DeeDee and I were at a Wooster basketball game when we went to war with Iraq and I remember the announcement being made and everyone taking a collective gasp in the stands.  They took a break from the game to make the announcement that the siege had begun and then they played the national anthem.  I’ve never heard it sung more strongly in a crowd, until the days directly following the September 11 attacks.

Then we all went back to our rooms and huddled together watching the footage of “Shock and Awe” and the beginnings of Operation Desert Storm.

Freshman year was a great, great year for me (despite Real Man and I dating for a bit then breaking up again).

DeeDee and I decided to be roommates for the rest of college.

By the spring of freshman year, she eventually broke up with the guy from home and met and started dating a guy from school, who she later married.

Sophomore year, I played intramural rugby with Sandy and had a blast, despite my utter lack of athletic ability.

Unfortunately, I wound up in an unhealthy relationship that lasted a little over two years and marred much of the rest of my college experience, but there were still lessons to be learned and there was fun to be had with my friends.

And that’s what I see when I see these former students of mine posting their college stories.

The potential and the amazing future for these kids, as well as my own poignant memories of how great it was.

Real Man made me very happy, a few weeks ago.

I mean, he makes me happy all the time, but you know what I mean.

There is a room off the dining room that was used as a guest room by the previous owners.

We are using it as an office.

We don’t have any office furniture, but we are using it as an office.

The closet was set up for a guest room, and is of no use to us in an office.

So, I took a little bookcase that was partially ruined in Irene, last fall, and stuck it in there to help make the closet a bit more useful.

Still, so much wasted space.

Imagine my insane pleasure upon arriving home from the beach to see what Real Man had done, one evening, when he was still home because he had to work, but the kids and I were on vacation with my parents.

My guy cut down some shelves that we had brought from the old house (the frugalista in me loves the re-purposing…and we had moved those shelves through 3 houses and never used them for anything, but knew we would some day!) and put up supports and made it a fully functional office closet (the professional organizer that lives inside me sings with joy)!

So, helpful!

My guy?

He knows exactly what kinds of gifts make me smile!