Almost there...

Less than a week until school starts.

The majority of the school supplies have been purchased, parent/teacher conferences are scheduled, sports practices have already begun, and it's only a matter of time before I dump the kids off at the front door of the school and do the happy dance on the way out of the parking lot.

I love my kids. I really do.

But I can not wait until they are back in school. Seriously.

I've never been one of those moms who greets the new school year with "but I'm going to miss my babies so much" or "I just can't bear the thought of my darling angels being gone all day" or any of that jazz.

Instead, I'm over here saying "finally, I can poop in peace!"

After dedicating the past 3ish months to them morning, noon, and night (and then some), I'm ready for some quality ME-time.

I'm ready to deal with the morning drama, take them to school, and then go for a run.

I'm ready to go to the grocery store - alone - and not feel frazzled the entire time I'm there (or come home with a bunch of crap that I didn't plan to buy).

I'm ready to help Emily get her Crayons for a Cause up and running.

I'm ready to hide out in the Mom Cave and work on lots of new projects. I have so many ideas for things that I want to get made in addition to the normal routine of the weighted blankets, and it's so hard to get any of that done when the kids are home - but with 7-8 hours of peace every day I can get so much done without feeling like I'm neglecting them. 

And I'm totally ready for Date Day with The Dude - on Tuesday, the first day of school, he and I are packing a cooler and our fishing poles and we are taking off for the lake as soon as the kids are safely at school and we're going to just hang out together all day. We might have just spent a solid 2 weeks together, but we did not get any time alone - and ever since we got back we've both been busy taking care of stuff and haven't really had a chance to really see each other - so I called him today and officially asked him out on a date. And he said yes.  (I think he likes me.)

I've been told before that I'm selfish because I enjoy my time "too much" when the kids are in school. Maybe it is selfish of me, but I look at it this way - I am here for these kids 24/7, whether they're in school or not. I'm lucky enough to not have to work a "real" job so I can spend the entire summer with them and it's awesome. But when they're in school, I get to do what I want to do when I want to do it. I finally get to do stuff for ME, without taking away time from them. I can sneak away for a day and go fishing with The Dude without having to worry about finding someone to keep an eye on them. I can hide in the Mom Cave all day and not worry about who is going to fix them lunch (because I already packed it before they walked out the door that morning). I can go for a run to clear my head and keep myself healthy without wondering if they're burning the house down while I'm gone. And if I want to take a nap in the middle of the day, I can do it without fearing judgment from someone who might show up at the door for some unknown reason.

And if all of that is selfish, then so be it. I know that having the time to myself while they're in school makes me a more relaxed person, which helps me to be a better mother. And I'm ok with that.

5 days, 4 hours, and 45 minutes....... give or take a few......

All That Distance

It's such a simple little note. But it tore me to shreds when I found it.

The little boy who wrote this - the amazing, smart, funny, clumsy, aggravating, loving, sarcastic, lovable little boy with the huge blue eyes - hasn't seen or heard from his father in a year.

His father told me a year ago today - as we were in the process of moving to our new house in a better school district with less crime and more room where our son could finally have his very own bedroom for the first time in his life - he told me that I couldn't expect him to drive "all that distance" to see his boy.

All that distance. Those words rang in my ears as I told him flat-out "if you can't make seeing your son a priority in your life, that's YOUR problem, not mine".

All that distance. He can't drive it to see his son, but he can drive it to play in a softball tournament. I know he did, because I saw him that day, right here in the same town where we live now.

All that distance. He can't drive it to see his son, but his wife can bring their other two kids to town to go swimming in the pool that's less than a mile from our house. I know about that because a mutual friend saw them there and mentioned it to me later.

All that distance. He can't drive it to see his son, but he can drive triple that distance to have a birthday party for his daughter and not even bother to invite his son. I found out about that one when another friend shared some pictures with me.

All that distance. In this day and age, distance doesn't really matter, does it? There are cell phones and computers and Skype and FaceTime and emails and texts just to say hi or to send a funny picture or to find out why his insurance company is suddenly getting bills for emergency room visits and plastic surgeons and allergist appointments.

All that distance, in reality, is 15 miles. FIFTEEN MILES. That's how far it is from my house to the town where he (supposedly) lives. I say "supposedly" because I have no idea, honestly. I know he moved, but the last I had heard he had only moved a few blocks away from where he had been living - but I was never given an address. Thanks to my phone getting run over by a car one day, I no longer have his phone number so I can't just call him - but even if I did, why should I? He's made it clear that all that distance is too much for him. He's pulled this crap before (although not for this long) and always comes crawling back with a bunch of excuses about how he was oh-so-busy and just didn't have time to make contact. I've tried to force the relationship, and it just didn't work.

And that sucks.

But you know who it sucks for the most?

Him. He's the one who is missing out. He's the one who missed the baseball games and the soccer games and the basketball games. He missed the parent/teacher conferences and the open houses and Christmas and birthday and Thanksgiving and everything else. He's the one who may be a willing participant in fatherhood with his other kids, but who has made the choice to walk out on this one.

For this amazing little boy though? He's going to be just fine. He has a mother who loves him no matter how much trouble he gets himself into, he has siblings that can't wait to hang out with him and goof around with him, he has The Dude to show him all of the necessary manly stuff, he has teachers who can't get over how smart (and mischievous) he can be, and he has friends knocking at the door almost every single day wanting him to go out and play with them.

All that distance that he's put between himself and his son is only going to hurt him in the long run - because we are just fine.

A push

I got pushed today. Not really pushed, but more like shoved. And smacked around a bit.

It actually started about a week ago. I'm in a whole bunch of groups on facebook, but one of them is a small group of local ladies who all run. I met several of them when I did the half-marathon in October, and they are awesome. But since that race, I haven't done anything to get in shape, or to even maintain the bleh shape that I was in when I did that race. Nothing. I haven't even gone for a walk.

So....like I said, a week-ish ago, this post caught my eye.....

Two miles a day for 2 weeks, I thought. I might be able to do that. So I agreed.

Of course, when I agreed, the weather was decent. Today, on the first day of the challenge? Yeah. Not so much.

I thought about waiting until later in the day (notice the time on that shot is 7:35am), but I had so much going on that I knew that if I didn't do it as soon as I dropped the kids off at school, I wasn't going to do it. And if I missed the first day, then I wouldn't do the challenge at all - because that's the way that my mind works. And I also knew that I had an appointment at 9am so if I was going to do it, I had to do it right then and there. I threw on an extra layer of clothes, cursed the girls in that group as I felt them virtually shove me out the door, and took off.

It. was. cold.

OMG it was cold. There was just enough wind that it was absolutely miserable as I started walking into it, and I came *thisclose* to turning around and going straight back to the house. But, it was a challenge. And I knew that if I got going, once I got to a certain point on my predetermined route, I could turn and have the wind at my back.

And then my mind started to wander in typical brain dump fashion. I'm not going to bore you with the total stream of consciousness train of thought that went in a bajillion different directions at a speed that blew my mind, but it was intense.

Ultimately, I thought about how parents tend to always put their kids first. I mean, really, who wouldn't? We have these little humans that depend on us for everything (more or less) and so we have to make sure that they're taken care of because that's our job, right? And we run ourselves ragged taking care of them and doing the things that parents do because it's what we're supposed to do and it's what we're expected to do - and we put ourselves last, sometimes to our own detriment.

I am so guilty of this, as most people know. I don't do squat for myself except maybe sit on my butt on the couch with a glass of wine once in a while (speaking of which...... I'm thirsty). And while taking care of the kids is all well and good (and ultimately, necessary) I realized....

I have to start taking better care of myself.

It seriously hit me like a smack upside the head. It's something that I've always known in the back of my mind, but I've ignored it because it seems like anytime parents (and yes, especially a mom) put themselves first, they are ripped to shreds by society. They are called selfish, self-centered, irresponsible, or bad parents.

I have been called all sorts of horrible names in the past because I am grateful when the kids go back to school after a long weekend or summer break. It's not that I want to get rid of my kids, but it's because I know that I can use that time away from them to work on things that *I* need to do to make me a better parent. Sometimes, it's mundane tasks like folding laundry and scrubbing toilets because I know that if I get those done while the kids are gone, I can spend more quality time with them when they return. And sometimes it's things like going for a run or taking a nap, because I need some time to do something that is completely and totally for me and for me only.

But even those things that I do for me and for me only end up benefiting the kids because guess what? When I get to do them, I'm in a better mood.

Better mood = better mom.

And seriously, who can argue with that train of thought when a view like this is staring you in the face while it's happening?

I came back from that run this morning feeling like it was ok to want to get back into running again. Like it's ok to finally commit to doing something for myself. Like maybe, just maybe, I can actually succeed at this 2-week challenge, and then continue on from there.

It's amazing how much my perspective can change in one 33 minute chunk of time.

And maybe, just maybe, in 2 weeks I can shave more than a few minutes off of that pathetic time. Assuming that I don't freeze a few limbs off in the process.

697 days

We reached a milestone today.

697 days.

Daniel was born on June 10, 2007. On May 6, 2009 - I told his father to leave our home for the last time ... 697 days later.

Daniel and I met The Dude for the first time on November 25, 2011 - 697 days ago.

As of today, The Dude has been a part of Daniel's life longer than his biological father was.

It's bittersweet for both of us. I asked The Dude today what he thought about it and his response was "conflicted". He's glad to be a part of Daniel's life, but at the same time he feels bad that Daniel will never get to know his father.

Honestly, it's the same for me. I know that his father loved him. I know that he had the potential to be a great father. But it just didn't happen that way. The addiction was too much to overcome and it tore our family apart before it took him away from us forever.

But, we have a good life now. We have come so far as a family and we are finally in a good place. The Dude has been amazing to all of us. Daniel looks to him as a father and I am so incredibly thankful for that. He knows that he has another father - but he also knows that The Dude is there for him and loves him even though there isn't a biological connection.

At his age, Daniel doesn't realize the significance of today. I've been thinking about it for weeks, because not only do I realize what this means for Daniel, but I realize what it means for me. I never dreamed that I would allow anyone to become such a huge part of our lives, but yet somehow, The Dude has wormed his way in and he still claims that he plans on staying. We have gone through so much crap in the past few months between work schedules and house hunting and injuries and illnesses and vehicle breakdowns and stress and chaos and panic - and yet we're still hanging in there (and creeping dangerously close to our 2 year anniversary) and doing everything that we can to care for our family - even if it's split between a couple of different residences for a few more months.

Life is good. Crazy, chaotic, and not always predictable, but it's good.

If you want to see a perfect parent...

....you'd better not be looking at me.

The Tooth Fairy letter got posted on another page today. And as usual, the haters came out to play.

Usually it doesn't bother me. I've heard pretty much all of it. But this time, they were a little more harsh than usual. I was called some pretty colorful names, and was my parenting ever questioned this time!

But you know what? As much as it annoyed me, it got me thinking.

People are so quick to judge other parents. But why? Are there any perfect parents out there?

I'm not perfect. I freely admit that on a regular basis. My kids aren't perfect either.

I curse in front of my kids. Not all the time, but it happens.
My house isn't perfectly clean. Sometimes, it's downright disgusting.
I usually manage to get a shower every day - but not always.
My kids' rooms are usually a mess.
I spank my kids when they need it - but it's not often.
We eat more junk food than we should.
Sometimes we eat out because I just don't feel like doing the dishes.
The kids probably get away with more mischief than they should.
I don't keep everyone on a set schedule, and I don't always enforce bedtime.
Sometimes I have to bribe my kids to get things done around the house.
I sometimes breathe a sigh of relief when they aren't home, and maybe enjoy the peace and quiet a little more than I should - and I don't always feel guilty about it.

People don't always agree with my parenting style, and that's ok. I was raised by parents who were significantly older than most parents of kids my age and I grew up in an age when a parent could backhand an unruly kid in the middle of the grocery store without anyone else batting an eye. I'm not scarred for life by how I was raised - in fact, I think it made me a better person in the end (although it took me a very long time to admit that).

Who would have thought that such
a silly letter would cause so much
of an uproar???

But for all of my perceived failures as a parent, I think that my kids are turning out pretty darned good. They are all above-average students and for the most part they're pretty well-behaved (although they all have their moments). And I sincerely believe that part of that is because their parents don't put up with any crap. We are not the type of parents (me, their fathers, their stepmothers, The Dude) to coddle our kids and protect them from every single little thing and give them participation trophies just for showing up. They have responsibilities, and if they don't do them, there are consequences, period.

There are no perfect parents. People need to remember that once in a while - especially before they run their mouths and judge someone else's parenting based on a random letter floating around the internet.

I'm not going to lie...

...but there are days when I wonder if I'm really cut out for this whole motherhood thing.

Things have not been going smoothly here in the Non-Stop household lately. I'm not sure what happened, or when it happened, but something happened.

Maybe it's cabin fever. The kids can't get outside and play as much as I would like them to.... partially because of the weather, or schedules, or sickness, or I have too much to do and can't go outside with them to make sure that they're safe.

Maybe it's the stress of living in a too-small house for far too long.

Maybe it's the pressures of school and sports and church and social activities.

Maybe it's the constant perceived lack of money as we curb our spending in order to get moved to a bigger house.

Maybe it's all of the above. Maybe it's not.

Whatever it is - it is taking a toll on all of us. There has been so much bickering, so much fighting, so much meanness and spitefulness and anger and disappointment and sorrow and even hate.

And I hate it. It makes me question everything. All of my past experiences come bubbling up to the surface and I start to question my every move.

Am I doing the right thing by taking away this privilege? 

Should I really have just said that to that child? 

What was I thinking when I allowed that to happen?

Is there maybe a better way to handle this situation?

Am I being fair?

Do they have even an inkling of how hard I am trying to be a good mother?

So many questions going through my mind right now as we desperately try to work through these growing pains that we are experiencing. And I haven't figured out a single answer yet. I sit here and I think and I try to come up with the magical solution, yet I know that there isn't one. What might have worked today might not work tomorrow. Parenthood is an ever-changing game, and one that doesn't have rigid rules that never change.

There have been times recently when I've been on the verge of giving up and throwing in the towel. Sometimes the stress and the uncertainty is unreal and overwhelming and totally unmanageable. But I know that no matter what, I am trying my hardest. I might not make the best decisions as a parent. I might make the wrong decisions sometimes. I might really really screw up sometimes. But I also know without a doubt that I love those kids more than anything else in the world - and no matter what, we are going to get through this whatever-it-is.

I might not be sane by the time that they grow up and are out of the house, but I'll get through it.

And so will they.

Just another sunrise ..... they can still take my breath away.

Listen to the parents - even if they're not yours.

OK, let me preface this by saying that I'm really aggravated right now.

No, I'm really seriously pissed. And for anyone who has been reading this blog for a while, you know that I don't usually use language like that. (OK, not here. Real life is different.)

Alex's first day of school - last year

Alex's father called me today and wanted to know what Alex still needed for school supplies. Well, considering that school starts in 3 days, he already has pretty much everything. I knew that he was missing one or two things but I wasn't sure what, so I told him I'd check and call him back. As it turns out, he just needed some twist-up colored pencils. That's it. Nothing else in the "supplies" category. So I called his father back and told him that.

He proceeded to tell me that he was at the store with his grandmother and she wanted to get school supplies. Again, I told him that he only needed the pencils. He said "well, she wants to get him a backpack too". I told him NO - he has a backpack. He is using the same one from last year, just like the other 4 kids are doing. He used it to carry maybe 2 pieces of paper back and forth each day, and it's still in perfect condition. He doesn't need a new one. I told him that if she really felt the need to buy something, to buy some underwear and socks - because that's what he NEEDS. I also told him that he doesn't need any new clothes or anything like that, but the socks and underwear are really a necessity at this point.

So he stopped by a little bit later to drop the stuff off - including a new backpack. Yes, he bought the pencils, and I am thankful for that. And 2 pairs of pants, that are literally 3 sizes too big. And 2 pairs of shorts - again 3 sizes too big. And a bunch of shirts - guess what? too big. And one pack of underwear and one pack of socks.

So why am I pissed? I should be thankful that he's buying anything, since he can't stick to a reasonable schedule to save his life. He can go out shopping with his grandmother, but can't stop to pick up his kid and spend a few hours with him. I'm pissed because I told him specifically not to get a backpack - and he did. It's not needed, and it's not wanted. Truth be told, when Alex saw it, his first words were "Dad, I don't need that - I already have one". And seriously, while he may only have 1 child over here, I have 5. Getting one kid a new backpack when it's not needed makes it hella hard to justify to the other kids that they don't need a new backpack as well. I am also not the type of person that feels that a kid needs to have a new backpack every year - if the one that we already have is fine, use it again! And seriously, the one that he used last year is in PERFECT condition because actually, now that I think about it, he only used it for a couple of months because the zipper broke on the first one that he had - so realistically, he already has a new one.

I'm pissed because he can't buy him clothes that FIT. Yes, he's a big kid, so his clothes do need to be a little bigger - but not 3 sizes! He told me "oh you can just put them aside for him to grow into" - well what's the point of that? He'll grow into the jeans maybe by next summer - when it's too hot to wear them, and then will turn around and outgrow them before school next year.

One 5-pack of underwear - when I told him that this was the one thing that he needed, and he got one pack. I'm sorry, but this is the kid who still has some toileting issues. Five pairs will last maybe 3 days. UGH!!!!

Bottom line is this - if you want to buy something for a kid, ask the parent (or guardian or whoever) what the kid needs. And if the parent says that something is needed, be respectful and get that. And if the parent says that something is NOT needed - show that same respect and DON'T. GET. IT.

Unless you ask, you don't know the reasons behind why a kid needs or doesn't need something. A kid might need more underwear because he/she has a lot of toileting accidents - but because you're not around a whole lot, you don't know that. You might be told not to buy a kid a toy because maybe the kid has been having behavioral issues at home and the parent doesn't feel that the kids needs it right now. You might be asked not to buy something for one kid because then the other kid feels slighted.

Point of the matter is - you may not know the reasoning. But when a parent says "yes, please get _______" or "no, please don't get _______" you need to listen. The parent has reasons - and unless you see that the kids are being neglected or put in danger, please respect those reasons.

Now, I have two choices.

1. Find a place in this tiny-little zero-storage house to put the backpack, the shorts, and the jeans aside until they can be used (maybe in a couple of years).

2. Take all of the stuff, figure out when I have an hour or two of spare time, and return it to the store and exchange it for the stuff that he NEEDS.

UGH! Seriously - I am so mad right now! Maybe I'm overreacting. But come on - I am with this kid 24/7 - I know what he needs! If you ask me what he needs, and then turn around and don't listen, why did I waste my breath??? Why????

OK, rant over. Have at it. Tell me I'm the one who is being ridiculous - because seriously, I don't know if I'm overreacting to this or not. But this is how I'm feeling right now.

You might think it's silly, but....

I'm all sorts of proud of myself right now. It's not like I did anything spectacular or anything, but still....

I bought new bras tonight.

I know, I know. Big deal, right? Well, to me it kind of is a big deal.

I'm not the type of person to go out and spend money on myself. We've been so broke for so long that there has always been something more important that needed funding rather than my pathetic wardrobe. The kids needed shoes, or we needed groceries, or that pesky electric bill had to be paid, or whatever. So I've worn the same old ratty nasty ugly bras for probably 10 years now - literally. In fact, right now, I am currently wearing a maternity bra that I bought after I had Emily - and she will be 11 next month.

A few weeks ago I told myself that I was going to go out and buy some new ones - you know, before we go on vacation. But then, I kept putting it off again. One...because I hate to spend money on myself, and two...because I hate to shop. I mean, I really hate to shop.

But today was one of those days where I was just so restless. I did my usual cleaning and laundry (and washed and dried and folded those same ugly bras one more time) but I really just wanted to get out of the house. So, as kind of a spur of the moment thing, I grabbed the boys and took off and went shopping. It was an experience - since I refuse to shop at WalHell, I had to drive 30 miles to get to a Target (not that Target is that much better, but at least it isn't WalHell) and in the process had to dodge about 87 construction zones and 423 idiot drivers.

The shopping part wasn't too horrible, other than the boys making smart comments about being in the "booby holder" section of the store (where do they pick this stuff up???) and occasionally smacking each other upside the head. Of course, being the eternal cheapskate I had to scope out the clearance racks first (fail) before I went to the regular ones. But, I still found some inexpensive ones that were decent - and then it dawned on me: I'd have to try them on to make sure that they fit.

Ugh. Really?

I thought about just chancing it and not testing them first, but I knew if I did that I would end up with ones that didn't fit, and I'd have to continue wearing the same old ratty nasty ugly ones again. And since I've lost weight, I wasn't exactly sure what size to get. So I gritted my teeth and braved the fitting room with two slightly-obnoxious little boys.

Long story short, I walked out of the store with 6 brand new bras - for a whopping $36. (Told you, I'm a cheapskate.) But before we left we wandered around the store for a while and I picked up a couple of other odds and ends that we needed, including a new pair of flip-flops for Daniel to wear on vacation.

It's kind of funny that something this trivial seems like a semi-big deal to me, but seriously, I don't buy things for myself. And I think that's a trap that a lot of parents (and especially single parents) fall into - we get so caught up in making sure that the kids have everything that they need (and/or want), and we forget about ourselves. We forget that we have needs too - and sometimes those needs are just as important as the kids' needs. We forget that we have to take care of ourselves - and realistically, if we don't do it, who is?

I did make a promise to myself tonight - no matter how tight money is in the future, I will not wait another 10 years to buy new bras.

Here we go again.

March 4, 2012.

6 weeks ago. 42 days.

That's how long it's been since Alex last saw his father. He took him overnight the night before that, if I remember correctly, and brought him back that afternoon. Since then? Not a visit, not a phone call, not a text. Nothing. Why?

Beats the crap out of me.

I'm sure he'll show up here at some point with a long line of excuses again, just like he did last summer when he disappeared for 4 full months. And he'll promise to do better, and to stick to a schedule, and assure me that it's really not his fault but he's just been too busy.

Alex will be ecstatic, and will talk about nothing else except for the time that he gets to spend with his father, because he worships the ground that he walks on. But that's ok, because that's what a relationship between a father and a son is supposed to be like.

It'll be good for a while. And then he'll start to not show up again. And I'll have to constantly explain to Alex that I don't know why his father isn't coming to get him. And we'll play the same game over and over again.

I've already had to explain to Alex that he missed his sister's birthday party because she was having an all-girl sleepover party and boys weren't allowed - but I haven't been able to come up with a good excuse for why he didn't get to see her at all for her birthday.

When he asked me why he didn't get to see his father during Spring Break, all I could offer him was the usual "I don't know, honey" and give him a hug.

Same thing for Easter. He really wanted to show his father his Easter basket too.

I catch him looking out the window, waiting to see if his father is going to come and get him. Every single time, it breaks my heart. We've talked about it. I've tried my best to explain to him that sometimes things just don't work out and that I'm sure at some point he'll get to see his father again. The sad thing is that he doesn't even really get upset about it anymore. He's pretty much just come to accept it. We go about our lives and we don't sit around to wait for him to show up anymore. We take our spur-of-the-moment road trips and we go do our thing and we have fun. I deal with the sickness and the behavior issues and the homework and the doctor appointments whether or not they fit into my schedule, because that's what a parent does. A parent doesn't brush off his/her kid because life is too crazy.

A good parent brushes off the craziness of life to make time for his/her kid.

Holy wow what a day!

When I woke up this morning, these were my plans for the day:

1. Take Alex to school.
2. Get gas.
3. Take Daniel to school and have his parent/teacher conference.
4. Go to Wichita to get Daniel's new Social Security card.
5. Pick Alex up from school.
6. Pick Daniel up from school.
7. Go home and be a vegetable.

Easy day, right?

*insert maniacal laughing here*

It started off according to plan. I took Alex to school and then got gas in the van. Then Daniel and I came home and got ready for the day.

First 2 plans done.

Then on the way to school, as I pulled out of the side street by my house, we got sidetracked.

OK, so he's not my favorite driver (duh), but it's NASCAR dammit, and it was around the corner from my house. Literally. We had to stop. Really.

Then off to Daniel's conference, which went well. He's on the verge of reading sight words, and his general smarts have his teacher completely and totally floored. He's way ahead of where he "should" be - surprise, surprise, surprise. I am so stinkin' proud of my kids.

Then a marathon run to Wichita to sit and wait at the Social Security office for what seemed like forever, but I got everything taken care of and should get his new card in the mail in the next couple of weeks.

OK, so cross the conference and the Social Security thing off of the list.

I picked Alex up from school, and then thought that I could buzz into the bank to get Daniel's name changed on his bank account. Turned out that it would take too long to do that right then, so we left to go get Daniel....and we had to run back so that Alex could see the car too.

....and then made a spur-of-the-moment run to Sonic for beverages and then to the dealership to order the part for the van door.

On my way back through town, I noticed a whole bunch of radio station and news vans parked around the train station. Having no clue what was going on, I posted something on facebook and found out that Martina McBride was going to be in town for something-or-other.

Oooooooohhhh really?

Then back to the bank. Name change completed.

Wait, how many things just got added to the list of not-much-to-do-today?

Then to the house. Boys into the stroller for an almost-sprint for the almost-mile to the train station to see Martina.

Hey, that wasn't on the list either.

Local radio personalities

Some of our finest

Here she comes!

Um, yeah.

Man, I wish I was taller....

Some *ahem* nice lady gave the boys train whistles. Gee, thanks lady.

So after Martina spoke for about 2 minutes (literally) and then disappeared, we walked back home.

So we got home. Ate supper....well, the boys had banana bread and then crashed. Hard. I realized that I had kinda' sorta' forgotten to eat anything all day, so I made some supper for me, then did some sewing while I watched Biggest Loser and Parenthood and cleaned the house at the same time.

Scary thing is that I feel like I forgot to do something today. Besides eat, I mean.

I hate that.

But it was a good day.