It's a scary, scary day

Tomorrow, I have to get up, get ready, dress two children in their Halloween costumes (HSM cheerleader and tiger), take the little one to pre-school, go to school with the big one, help her class do a "Say Boo To Drugs" parade through the school's neighborhood, hand out popcorn at their dance party, zip over to see his parade, dash back to organize and throw her class party, pick up the little one from pre-school, clean the house, greet the friends and family we are expecting for trick -or-treating, feed everyone dinner, take the kids TOTing, hand out candy to other TOTers, clean up, put two heavily sugared children to bed, and then follow suit.

I'm busting into the Halloween candy a little early this year. Like right now.

NOW she decides not to be a drama queen

Tuesday, I went to Mandy's house to work on some eBay stuff. While I was there, Abby's school nurse called to tell me Abby was complaining of a sore throat, but didn't have a fever. She and I did that "oh, aren't kids cute when they're so dramatic?" thing, then I told her to give Abby a peppermint and send her back to class. I chuckled with Mandy about it, and life went on. Until 3 AM that night, when Abby's temperature was 103.8. So, I ate a big piece of humble pie with bad mother sauce on top, and took her to the doctor yesterday morning. She has strep throat. Again. It's the second time in two months.

She's better now, though last night her temperature topped off at 104.1. I had to resist the urge to dump ice water on her head. The good news is that if she has one more occurance this winter, we can get her tonsils out. This may not SOUND like good news, but it is. My throat was eternally strepped (?) during childhood, but for whatever reason I didn't have my tonsils out until I was 21. Since then, I have had two children surgically removed from my body, and I PROMISE you, the tonsillectomy was worse. Plus, I couldn't talk for a week. Disaster! So I am anxious to get hers out before she gets sick too many more times, and since the surgery gets harder the older you are.

Ethan remains remarkably healthy, thank goodness. We have discovered the most efficient bribe ever for him--candy corn. He is OBSESSED. He would eat nothing else if we let him. Sometimes, when he wakes up in the morning, he stumbles in our room still half asleep and muttering "candy corn, candy corn" over and over. Today we were driving and he saw some orange construction cones on the side of the road. He screamed with delight, because he thought they were giant candy corns. If only, son. If only.

HSM, OMG!

Last week was another busy one (WHEN does the lying on the couch eating bonbons happen??) that culminated with one of the most anticipated events of the season--the premiere of High School Musical 3 on the big screen. Abby loves her HSM. She has an extensive product collection, and listens to the music so much that even her little brother walks around belting out Bop to the Top.

Even though I resisted the machine that is HSM at first, I am now a devoted fan myself. If she's going to glom onto something, this is a great choice--it's squeaky clean and has catchy tunes and is even occasionally clever. Plus, it lets me bond with her girl to girl, which is really fun. My own New Kids on the Block days aren't that far gone, and so I'm able to sort of relive that experience with her. Sort of.

The movie came out Friday, and it has been on our calendar for ages. I bought tickets in advance for the two of us and Matt's sister Renee, who booked it from her teaching job to meet us for the 4:20 show. (There was a brief time in which I considered checking her out of school to see the first showing, but Matt quickly and firmly put the kabosh on that. He's no fun.)

The movie was GREAT. I was getting jiggy in my seat, already identifying the songs that will be floating through our house constantly for the next few years. When the two main stars kissed, I covered Abby's eyes jokingly, and she had a MAJOR hissy fit. She loves that romance stuff! Sadly, though she watched vigilantly for it the entire movie, Troy's belly button did not make an encore appearance. I guess there's always hope that HSM 4 will come through.

I'm a prisos--and that's a good thing

AMEN had a really nice weekend. Friday night, Matt and I got to watch my cousin Kenneth and his team plow their way to another victory, making them 7-0 for the season. It was a great game and fun to be with my family.

Quite a bit of the pre-and post-game conversation we had centered around our son, who--ready for this one?--pulled the fire alarm at his school on Friday. Mmm-hmmm. I don't want to hear any of that "oh, he's a good boy, just a little active" mess any more from any of you. He is a menace! I thought I feared Abby's teenage years. Oh, but when he's sweet, he's sooo sweet. I'm defenseless.

Abby has officially finished her first 9 weeks of Kindergarten. To the amazement of her father and me, she seems to be reading and writing all of a sudden. It's all she wants to do. You know me, book freak, I'm loving it. Her big thing now is to write notes to us. Tonight I got one that said:

MI MOM IZ O PRISOS

That's "My mom is a princess" in Abby-phonics. I'm going to get it framed.

There is a downside to this new skill of hers, though. Gone are the days that we can tell her that a box of candy says it has carrots in it, or that the TV guide doesn't show Hannah Montana coming on any time soon. Her abilities also seem to have gone to her head a bit, and she frequently speaks to us in this exasperated tone that indicates that now that she knows everything, it is reeeeeally irritating to have to deal with her parents of lesser intelligence.

Well, no one can accuse us of having boring children.

We have to keep meeting like this

I had a wedding this weekend. Friday evening, I walked into the venue to prepare for the rehearsal. I was flitting arouind doing my wedding coordinator thing, clipboard in hand, when I rounded the corner and came upon a group of groomsmen. Nothing unusual there--groomsmen tend to be at wedding rehearsals. However, I almost fell on my face, because one of the groomsmen was Aaron Weidner.

Now, I know what you're thinking.

Who is Aaron Weidner?

Well, that's what everyone is thinking unless you went to high school with me. If that's the case, then you know that Aaron and I, along with another hooligan named Steve, were an inseparable pack back then. We lived within walking distance of each other, and spent a majority of our after school time in my basement. We played pool, schemed ways to pull practical jokes on anyone in our path, and watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail so many times that I still have a majority of the movie memorized today. ("Your mother was a hamster and your father smelled of elderberries!") In short, we were super cool people.

I still see Steve on occasion, but Aaron and I lost touch after he moved to Kansas City to go to art school. The last time I saw him was maybe 8 years ago, when I went to a club (which I NEVER do) because some old college friends were meeting up there, and guess who was the lead singer of the band? We freaked out then, and we freaked out Friday night.

At the wedding, I got some time to visit with Aaron. He's doing great, and despite the fact that we grew up and became responsible citizens, we got along just as brilliantly as ever. The icing on the cake was that I got to meet Aaron's amazing wife Bev. Steve and I used to give Aaron a really hard time in high school becuase he always seemed to like girls that were, well, idiots. His taste has definitely improved with time--on top of being ridiculously pretty, Bev is one of the most genuine people I have met in a long time. I had a WONDERFUL time talking with them, and I really hope that we will make good on our promise to get together next time we're all in the same town. In the meantime, I'll have to settle for hearing them--Aaron and Bev have realeased some music together under the name The New Tragedies. Look them up on iTunes!

I managed to get a picture of the three of us at the wedding, and I dug through my old stuff from high school to find some vintage photos as well.

Here's Steve, me and Aaron. Yes, I know my hair was ridiculous. So was yours back then. Leave me alone.

I put this next picture in because 1) Steve and Aaron spent countless hours sitting in this exact space, hogging my stereo, and 2) there are some great representations of the times in the photo. Note the green and blue shag carpet and the Huey Lewis and the News mag.

Here we are all grown up. If my calculations are right, there is a span of about 15 years between the first two pictures and this one. I don't know how I ended up between Aaron and Bev, but it's still a great picture.

It was a great bonus to a nice weekend, and it gave me a really fun bout of nostalgia. Now I'm off to Hastings to rent The Holy Grail.

Shoes Blues

Answer me this: how is it that in the current world market, with such a ridiculous surplus of goods available, I cannot find shoes for Abby? There must be literally thousands of styles available in her size. Dozens in one store alone! And yet she's like my own little reverse Cinderella--NONE work. I really do not understand. Are her feet misshapen? Unusually unweilding? We're going to have to move to Florida so the girl can wear flip flops year round.

Never too old

I realize that I have let my blogging slide in a serious way lately.I thought I would be posting all the time once I left work, but it doesn't seem to happen. My bad!

Last week was busy but overall pleasant. My babysitting venture Tuesday was surprisingly peaceful--the only child that gave me any trouble was my own. Wednesday I served as Safegate Mom at Abby's school. This basically means that I sit at a table in the lobby all day and greet anyone who comes in. I also work on any projects the teachers need help with, and if I never cut out another laminated letter, it will be too soon. I had a lot of fun, and the day flew by. The most exciting moment came when a teacher brought a sobbing boy into the office. I saw everyone gather round him and move him into the nurse's room, and the sobs turned into hysterical screams. I asked the secretary what had happened, and she said in a very matter-of-fact voice, "He was chewing on a zipper and it zipped into the inside of his cheek." AHHH! THEN she said, "It's the third time he's done it this year." WHAT?! Perhaps his parents should explore purchasing clothes with buttons.

On Thursday E and I headed down to Little Rock to visit my grandmother. She is doing great, and she has the amazing ability to spend time with Ethan and see only the cute, sweet things he does, and not the beastly, crazy things. It's a talent. The weekend highlight was that I got to go to the Razorbacks game with my friends Kevin and Robin. The team played better than the score indicates, and the weather was perfect for football. Plus I got to watch the Heisman trophy winner, Tim Tebow, play in person. And let's be honest, on top of being an extraordinary player and outstanding human being, he's pretty easy on the eyes. Google him if you don't know what I'm talking about. See?

Okay, I just realized that Tim Tebow is at least 10 years younger than me. Does it therefore make it weird that I think he's cute? This is very upsetting. I'm going to go watch High School Musical and ponder the question.