I'm free

School is out for the summer!

It was harder than usual for me to say goodbye to my kids this year. I had the best class -- my favorite in 12 years of teaching, actually. I loved those little crazies. Anyway, I had a few lumps in my throat at the end of the day, which is unusual for me. But like I told the kiddos, I don't like goodbyes, so I refuse to say them.

So now the entire summer is in front of me, and I'm sure going to try and make the most of this one. I WILL start scrapbooking, even if it kills me. I want to [TRY] and get into some sort of shape (besides round). And most of all, I want to make the most of my family time -- both as a mommy and as a wife. It's extra special this summer since we're facing so many changes and challenges. But I absolutely refuse to mope around and let my emotions get the best of me!

So. It is with the best of intentions, that I begin summer 2008. Ahhhh. Can't wait.

shredding

I did some shredding today. And I'm talking ... an Enron-amount of shredding. Boxes and boxes of multi-colored confetti are now resting comfortably in the big ol' recycle dumpster at the local elementary school. But beyond the paper, there was much more.

A definite positive to this whole moving process is being forced to sort through all the crap in your life that's been sitting on the top shelf of the closet, or in the bottom of the junk drawer in the spare bedroom. You have to stop and analyze whether or not it's worth it to actually take something out of a box and store it somewhere ... again ... or just toss it.

Sometimes the digging isn't so deep and the decision isn't so difficult. I mean, how important is it to keep every single paystub you've ever received? Not very. And old bills, receipts and lease agreements from your first apartment out of college (almost 15 years ago ... GULP!)? Nah. Not necessary.

But then you encounter the stuff that makes you stop and pause before tossing it away. It doesn't necessarily mean you're pining for the past -- but more like thinking back to a time when life was simpler, and organized by fewer levels of complexity.

The yearbooks, of course you keep. And for some reason, I kept the [totally useless] box that my Aggie Ring came in. I threw away the random shot glasses, as well as the old tarnished James Avery dangle charm rings that were oh-so-important to me when I was a girl. There just comes a time when, as much as you love the memory, you have to finally part with the tangible evidence of it -- for the sake of sanity and space, in the very least.

Then there was the picture of Bev and I in New York City with those crazy guys we met -- the ones who we hung out with in countless bars that glorious, long weekend. The ones who painted their faces before the Texas A&M vs. FSU game and had us laughing for years afterwards. I'm never going to stick that photo in a frame, but seeing it today still made me laugh. So I saved it.

And then there were the cards, pictures, and other crazy nicknacks (a USAF name badge from his uniform?!) from the ex -- the BIG ex. Wading through all of this stuff didn't necessarily make me laugh. Instead, it made me exhale and think, "Dang. I was so close to making a very monumental mistake, wasn't I?" These tokens and trinkets had me pausing amidst all the clutter and crap, looking at my dusty, crazy life today and saying to myself, "Wow. I did it right." I threw away the uniform name badge. And it was cathartic.

The local Good Will made a killing this weekend. And I learned a lot about myself along the way.

Bud Light Lime

Hubby stopped by Specs this afternoon, so I asked him to grab me a 6-pack of Bud Light Lime. I didn't expect to like it, but it's pretty darn good, for a gimicky beer. It's refreshing (that's annoyingly cliche, I know) and really light. The lime isn't overpowering at all. In fact, I added a fresh lime wedge to my second bottle.

I'll definitely be buying more. Good timing too -- perfect for summertime. Maybe it'll help me drink away my misery over gas prices.

Yummy cold goodness.

I got a new toy!

No, not THAT kind of toy.

I got a new phone! It's race car cool, but it's the first time in my whole life where I sorta feel like technology has passed me by -- I haven't yet figure out how to navigate my way around all the bells and whistles. And I'm talking about the BASIC navigation (like scrolling!).

My super swell friend B informed me that today's "gen X/Y/Z (?)-ers" now use their thumbs instead of index fingers for scrolling on a touch-screen. So maybe that's my problem. Regardless, I think it's somewhat sad that I now own a phone that I can't even maneuver, as designed. But I'm looking forward to playing with it!

It's the little things in life, right? Like a sexy new phone.

blessings

I've been feelin' kind of blue for a few months. No, things haven't gone exactly as planned, but the thing is, I'm still in the game. Life is still so very much worth relishing and breathing in deep. So I thought I'd take quick stock of all that I have.

My son. He's my sun, moon, stars ... and sticky, syrupy fingers ... he's a cranky, beastie of 2-year-old when he wakes up ... he's a singer of the "ACBs" song ... and pointer-outer of all letters and numbers he sees. He's the greatest gift I've ever been given, and I'm humbled every day.

My job. I'm able to work every day in the field in which I earned my degree ... in a school full of kids I adore, among peers who keep me sane and smiling.

Good wine. Pulling the cork from a beautiful bottle of liquid grapes, and taking that first deep breath of goodness never gets old. Thank God for Bogle, La Crema, Pascual Toso, and all my other current vino loves.

Good cheese. (see above ... to go with good wine). A chunk of Parmigiano Reggiano on a cracker, with spicy mango chutney is my current favorite. But who can resist a slice of stinky stilton? Or a good Danish bleu? And don't even get me started on a creamy Havarti. Delish.

My twin sister. Couldn't live without her.

Texas. I'm so blessed to live in this great state, among the finest people in the world. It never gets old. The more I travel and the farther away I go, the more I realize how much I love it.

My husband. I don't deserve him, even a little bit. I can't believe he puts up with me and loves me, despite all my madness. I can't wait to go through this quirky ride called life with him and see what else lies in store for us.

My Lord. Who through Him, all things are possible.

My VOE girls, B and N. One provides an ear I've grown to love and rely on (plus, she introduced me to Edward and Bella and all the other Twilight crew), and the other keeps me laughing. It's a damn good mix.

Bubble baths and candles. Not for romance. For ME. Time to soak and escape. Even for a little bit.

My family. Mom, Dad, Christine. I'm so lucky to live near them and be a part of their lives. I know I take them for granted.

Baseball and college football. One means summer, the other means fall. God, I so love them both. Especially in Aggieland.

A good book, soft sheets, and time to myself. It just doesn't get much better. Oh, wait. Yeah it does. See above.

Yeah, life is pretty darn good in my world. I'm blessed.

great weekend

My beloved Fightin' Texas Aggies won the Big 12 Baseball crown this weekend. I was fortunate enough to be able to sit in the stands with my family for game 2 of the series against the 'Horns. A good time was had by all.


Of course we got in some good eats and drinks along the way ... College Station is a fun place to visit. Anyone who's interested should head up in June for the 2nd Annual Texas Reds Steak and Grape Festival. Should be a great time!


Summer is starting to kick into gear, and it feels darn good. Only 8 days of school left, and then I'm free for awhile.

moving

Ranked up there in the annals of fun, right next to swim suit shopping and stomach viruses, is moving.

For the past several days, we've been knee-deep in boxes, dust and forced-organization (or a lack thereof). It's just not much fun, but unfortunately, there's really no way around it when you have to do it.

The positives? Throwing stuff out. After hanging on to them for far too many years, there's really no need for me to keep the old blue bathmats and towels from my first apartment. They're gone now. Good feeling. Less bulk. Another positive? A sense of new beginnings usually settles in after a move, when the dust settles and your mind is once again, [semi-] clear.

The negatives? Wow. This time, unfortunately, there are quite a few. Leaving our very first home has been gut-wrenching for me. I've tried to keep a stiff upper lip about the whole thing and not get overly emotional (I've failed miserably, at times) about the bricks, sticks and paint color. In the end, it's the people in your life that really matter. And that's what I'll truly miss the most -- having my best friend far away for the next two years. You just get so used to seeing the faces you love, that when you try and close your eyes and imagine them not there every day, it sort of rips you to pieces. But I'd be lying if I said that it hasn't been difficult entrusting total strangers to pack up our life, load it up into boxes, and ship it to some non-descript building.

I haven't written about any of this much because frankly, I haven't had the heart. Plus, it usually makes me cry, and I'm all cried out. But I'm anxious to get the ball rolling on all of this and get it over with. The sooner Ty leaves, the sooner I can start the countdown for his return. And I'm a master at countdowns! The bottom line is, we'll be stronger after all of this is behind us.

Oh! I forgot to list the MOTHERLOAD of all positives! I won't be driving 2 hours every day to and from work! We're gonna get rich on the money we save in gas alone!

Once again, onward.

flip flops

I love everything about flip flops. I love the way they look. I love the way they feel. I love the sounds they make when I'm walking in them.

You can't help but feel good when you're wearing flip flops. It usually means that life is casual and fun ... and you're somewhere in the neighborhood of summertime. But it doesn't have to be summer, and therein lies the greatness of flip flops -- they work even if you're wearing sweats.

You may wonder why I'm writing about my favorite shoe today. Sadly, it's because the principal at the school where I work has banned flip flops. Yes, I said BANNED flip flops. All I can say is, the guy is clearly out of touch. I work with a bunch of amazing women (and a few men) who arrive at work every day ready to give our kiddos 100%. I mean, come on. None of us are in this career for the money, right? We do it because we love teaching kids.

For the most part, nobody schleps themself into work wearing the shower-shoe type of flip flops. The girls at work dress really cute, often times accessorizing perfectly with a rainbow of stylish and fun flip flops -- leather ones, pink ones, jeweled ones, ribboned ones ... you name it. It's great. We're elementary school teachers, not investment bankers!

So, from here on out, it's adios to my flip flops at work. Which will make them that much more adored by me when I'm at home. Things around here already seem a little big gloomier without that flip flopping music ringing in the halls.

People (specifically, principals), really shouldn't sweat the little things. Life is too damn short.

my Stephenie Meyer journey continues...

Stephenie Meyer's first "adult" novel was released yesterday. My dear, crazy friend B actually took a half-day off of work to stand in line at a Barnes and Noble across town to buy us each a copy. AND ... with these particular books came an extra special prize ... wristbands allowing us admittance into a book discussion this Friday with Stephenie Meyer herself. Yippee!


So, in the mean time, I'm frantically trying to read The Host, the above-mentioned book, that I started yesterday. Unlike the first page of Twilight, which immediately grabbed hold of my entire being and sucked me in to to the entire series for a good week (hey, I had 3 books to read!), my initial reaction to The Host was not as positive. In fact, it actually sort of disturbed me. The book is a sci-fi thriller (totally not my usual cup of tea), and began with some very dramatic events. But I persevered.


I've now made it up to chapter 15, and I'm starting to get into the plot. I just knew in my heart of hearts that dear ol' Stephenie wouldn't let me down! I'm not saying that I love it yet, but it's getting pretty good. However ...


... I sure miss Edward and Bella.

I can't wait to hear about them this Friday! And I'm so looking forward to some girl-time with B as well! Oh, and on top of all the excitement, the Twilight movie trailer was released this week too! Holy crap! SENSORY OVERLOAD! How much Stephenie Meyer excitement can a girl take?! The movie looks awesome! Ty has already promised to take me for my birthday once it's released in December -- definitely something to look forward to during the long months ahead of us.

Gotta run. I have a ton of reading to do. ;)

last week in our home

This is a tough week. It's our last week together as a family in our very first home ... at least for the next two years, anyway.

The movers arrive next week to pack up all of our stuff and ship it to various places across the country. Our furniture and other "big" items will land in San Antonio, where our storage unit is located (gotta love military contracting). Our "personal" stuff, along with anything else I can think of that I might possibly need during the next two years (no pressure there!) will be headed to Houston -- specifically, to my mom's house. And finally, Ty's SAR gear, diving gear, work stuff and clothes will find its way up to La Push, Washington, where he'll be stationed for the next two years.

I'm working every day to stay positive about all of this, but it's really gut-wrenching. I love our little home and all of the little touches that we've added to it over the years to make it our very own. The paint colors on the walls, the plants in the yard, the little details in ARF's very first bedroom -- all of it. I continue to remind myself that all of this has to be happening for a reason. I'm keeping my eyes focused ahead, and not behind.

For a terribly nostalgic and sentimental person, there are about a million reasons to let this week bury me. But you know what? I'm not going to let it happen. Instead, I'm going to enjoy every last minute of the time we have left together in our house on Port Carissa Drive.

a sunny saturday, al fresco

Very few things beat a sunny afternoon on the patio (if you're in the Houston area, head over to Guadalajara), with a cold beer, chips and queso, and the people you love.

Add bright flowers, umbrellas, and a nice breeze into the mix, and you have the makings of a pretty damn perfect way to spend an afternoon.

Time well-spent.

I need a vacation

My husband and I aren't rolling in money. And unless we have some unknown rich relative that's planning on leaving us a fortune, we never will be. We both have careers that define fixed income (he's in the military and I'm a teacher), but we do our best to make smart financial decisions and enjoy life. I'm not saying we're in the poor house or anything, but on those rare occasions when we do have some extra green stuff left over in the ol' account, we try and do the wise thing, like putting it in savings or paying a little extra on a credit card.

How boring.

In the end, it doesn't leave us much (or any) room for exotic destinations, random weekend get-aways, or even a luxury night out on the town. And that's ok. I love my life and all the blessings that come with it. But sometimes, a girl's just gotta get away.

I think I've reached one of those times. Between the looming two-year deployment and separation facing us, the total insanity that goes along with April and May at school, and the ever-changing antics and adventures of raising a two-year-old, I'm rapidly finding myself completely sapped of all energy. Simply put, I'm beat.

Oh, what I wouldn't give to sip a tropical drink with my sweet hubby, while gazing into eachother's eyes (I know, I know ... put down the romance book, Elizabeth) and watching the sun drop over the ocean. Or to have a fine dinner at some multi-star restaurant on the strip in Las Vegas. Or to just spend a quiet afternoon lounging by a pool somewhere, reading a book and listening to the sea gulls ... the smell of coconut hanging in the air. Ahhhh.

Come to think of it, dinner, drinks and some live music somewhere in town wouldn't be too damn shabby either. I'm not at all picky at this point.

A good red wine

Through family suggestions, I recently discovered Malbec wines. Malbec is a red wine made with a white variety of grape, and it's a great wine if you're a usual fan of Merlots or Cabs. Argentina is known to produce the best Malbecs, and I've found a vinyard that's superb (and reasonably priced!), if you're up for trying a new red -- Pascual Toso, a winery founded in 1890. I bought my first bottle at Costco and have since purchased several more. Here are the tasting notes on the Malbec from the vinyard's website:

Deep red color with violet tints. Coffee, violets and blackberris are felt in the nose, which integrate with spices giving a medium-structure harmonic wine impression. Long and rich finish with touches of oak and vanilla. Recommended to match pasta and red meat with light sauces.

Just your friendly-neighborhood wine tip, du jour!

Murphy's Law

So, the first and only time in three years that I've ever been late to work was this morning. It was a series of unfortunate events.

My little guy had an "accident" in his bed (potty training can be a bitch) and needed an unexpected -- from head-to-toe -- scrubbing in the tub. Of course this was a completely novel (and exciting) event for a toddler who's used to nothing but business in the morning. He was totally thrilled to engage in one of his favorite activities first thing in the morning. But he absolutely refused to get out of the bathtub. As a result, I had to battle and pry a kicking and screaming wet two-year-old from the water. The mother-of-all tantrums ensued for a good 15 minutes afterwards. Forget breakfast. We'd have to drive through Micky-Ds.

So at 6:45 a.m., the time I'm usually pulling in to the parking lot at work, I was still in my p.j.s, frantically throwing on make-up and brushing my hair. At 6:55 a.m., my darling little [clean] son and I were driving into the McDonald's parking lot. I kid you not, we were the SIXTH car in line! I sat there for ten seconds or so and decided that it would be quicker to go inside. So as I'm reversing, a big truck pulled in behind me, sealing my fate in the drive-through line. I'd have to wait it out.

At 7:00 I dashed ARF into his school, gave him a quick kiss and heard, "Bye bye, Mommy!" as I was rushing out the door. Ugh. So, so sweet. At this point, I figured that a few extra minutes wouldn't kill me, and I really needed a jolt of caffeine. I pulled into the Starbucks less than a mile from my work and had to wait for over 10 mintues to even place my order. I was late already, so a few extra minutes at this point were meaningless.

Of course, there was only one barista working. She kept yelling for help from "the back," but nobody materialized to assist the frazzled lady. And the woman in front of me in line was ordering two of those big ol' caraffes to-go for the office or something. So she had to get cups, creamer, sugar, etc. to go with her order. ARE YOU KIDDING ME??!!

Did I mention that I have to be in my classroom by 7:15 a.m.? No problem! I'm usually there by 7:00, at the latest! Oh, and the first bell rings at 7:25 -- semantics. I'm always there. But on this special morning to beat all mornings, I'm still standing in line looking at my watch at 7:23 or so. GREAT.

I finally order my java, race to the car, and find that some big honkin' Mack-Daddy pick-up truck is parked as close to my car as humanly possible, without hitting me. I couldn't even open my door. I had to run around to the passenger side, jump in, and shimmy over to the driver's seat, full, hot coffee in hand. Holy crap. I think I laughed at this point.

I pull into the parking lot at work. No parking places available. Of course. I illegally park and race to the gate and find who standing there to greet me? Our oh-so-punctual (and eagle-eyed) administrative assistant/eager-beaver secretary, perched on-watch with a clip board. She nods at me, I nod at her (late, with coffee in my hand ... that was an especially nice touch), and I proceed to calmly walk to my classroom.

Damn that potty training.

God bless Starbucks

If they served breakfast tacos, I'd be in some serious trouble.

I realize that a huge chunk of the population is down on Starbucks. I've heard all about the corporate greed and big business angle of how they do things. And yes, they've made it increasingly difficult for the little indpendent coffee houses (which I'd support, by the way, if one was located around my neck of the woods). But simply put, there are some mornings when I just don't think I'd be able to make it without that steamy morning cup of survival.

Ahhh, sweet java. Make mine a grande, no fat, no whip mocha, please.

favorite places ... Acme Oyster House, New Orleans

I thought that from time to time, it might be fun to write about and reflect on some of my favorite places. With that in mind, I'm beginning today by heading east across the Texas border into Louisiana.

Simply put, I love the Acme Oyster House in the Quarter on Iberville. It probably doesn't hurt my memories of the place that the first time I ever went was on a weekend trip with my two sisters and my Daddy. It was fantastic, and probably the first time we all hung out together as four adults, rather than three kids with their dad. We drank Bloody Marys early in the morning, smoked cigars while walking along the river, and bonded together at a time when we really needed it.

Back to Acme. We drank beer and ate the best oysters I've ever had. Period. And the horseradish was so freakin' hot, it literally took my breath away -- coughing fits galore. Even my Texas-bred Daddy, who has a particular passion for all things hot and spicy, had to chug down water after every bite. It was excellent. There's just something about chowing on oysters in the Quarter with jazz music hanging in the air that makes it the quintessential New Orleans experience.

To this day, whenever spring time rolls around and the weather starts to warm up, every oyster and cold beer I consume is compared to those I had at Acme. So far, they've all fallen short.

Bitter? Not me

Pssst ... Mr. Obama. I'm a gun owner, and I'm a Christian. I'm not bitter.

But then again, I don't live in Pennsylvania. Texans, as a rule, aren't bitter people I guess.

Speaking of guns, I think you just shot yourself in the foot. Again.

Another sign ... peanut butter

Here's the latest "sign" in my life of something happening that was meant to be. To briefly recap, I've recently been experiencing a strange trend of things seemingly happening for a reason. Who knows? Maybe I'm bombarded with these signs all the time and just haven't been paying attention. Regardless, I'm trying to heed them all now.

One of my absolute favorite foods in the whole wide world is about to make a comeback -- Peter Pan WHIPPED peanut butter. For a peanut butter junkie who can't live without the yumminess, but can live without the extra fat and calories, this stuff is a Godsend. It tastes just like normal peanut butter (no added funky sugar substitutes or anything like that), but it's whipped with extra air, so it's fluffier and lighter than the normal stuff. But it tastes the exact same as regular peanut butter. I compare it to whipped yogurt -- it's light and airy, but still just as yummy.

Unfortunately, last year when Peter Pan had to recall their product off the shelves, whipped peanut butter was included. As far as I know, Peter Pan is the only company that makes it -- and believe me, I've searched far and wide. Well, lo and behold in my Hungry Girl newsletter this morning, the long-awaited news was right there in black and whie. Peter Pan Whipped is returning to the shelves. Yippee!

Now for the sign part ... it just so happens that I've made today the starting point for yet another goal ... I'm going to try and make a serious and concerted effort to get back into shape, in every way -- physical and spiritual. I think if I can actually manage to stay true to my plan, I'm going to feel better in just about every way. What I really need is to feel empowered and [somewhat] in control of things as I approach the next two years of my life and all the changes accompanying it.

So, here's to sticking with it.

Onward.

I want to learn how to scrapbook

April 11th is an odd time to be thinking about resolutions, but there's something extremely domestic and soccer-mommish (Heaven forbid) that I've wanted to do for a long time -- learn how to scrapbook. I love cute girly things, and I'm a picture-taking fool. What better way to save memories and to get my stifled creative juices flowing than to scrapbook?

But the kicker is, when I say I want to learn, I mean I really want to LEARN. I don't just want to self-teach myself how to throw stuff together. Whenever I ask a scrapbooking person about it, they usually say, "Oh, it's easy. You just buy the little things and glue them on cute paper with your pictures and stick it in an album."

That's just now how my type-A brain functions. To undertake this new endeavor properly, I'll need to take a class from an expert, learn all my options, compile a list of good resources, etc. My formal scrapbooking education must begin the proper way, or I'll be screwed forever.

I'm a perfectionist. It's a cross to bear, because I usually can't measure up to the lofty ideas I've set in my mind. It stresses me out, hence my need for an outlet. It's a vicious cycle. Scrapbooking, I need you!

I figured that by writing this out, I'll feel obligated to hold myself accountable for actually beginning this adventure. We'll see.

Make mine a Grey Goose

Are you kidding me? How stupid can the advertising people behind the scenes at Absolute vodka be? They just ran (and promptly pulled) an ad that stated "In An Absolut World" half the U.S. would be controlled by Mexico, as depicted by an 1830s map (where most of the modern western section of the U.S. was still part of Mexico).

Idiots. I smell a major boycott. I'm not one who usually gets my feathers ruffled about such things (edited to add that my husband just informed me that I am the queen of ruffled feathers; however, that's neither here nor there ...), but come on.

I do believe I'll refrain from drinking any Absolut from now on ... shaken, not stirred.