Oh, man, my blog.  Neglected.  Forgotten.   It’s amazing how life fills up my minutes and I no longer have any emotional energy (not to mention time) to write on my blog.    As I’ve told you before, I love writing on my blog, and I love reading my own blog.  It’s weird, I know, but reading my old blog posts comforts me.  I know that girl, and she understands me.  You know what I mean?  She’s always on my side.

Anyway….I still haven’t shown you the before and after of my armoire, and I’m still not ready to do so.  You know why?  Because right now, it has a filing cabinet shoved up against it, which makes it impossible to get a good picture of it.  And like I’ve already said, I’ve become insecure and intimidated by all the professional photography on other blogs.  I can’t hang.    So anyway…some day.   I DID (well, Brian, mostly–per my request) however, paint my front door last weekend, and it doesn’t have a filing cabinet shoved up against it–so maybe I’ll just post pictures of it instead.  We painted it red.  I think I like it.  My house just needed a little lipstick, you know what I mean?  A little color to liven things up during the months of the year when all the flowers are dead.  (Not that all the flowers are dead right now–they’re just starting to sprout up again, and I love it.  I love this time of year when my yard becomes pretty again.)

I’ve discovered a couple of things about myself over the last couple of months.  First, I’ve discovered that if there is such a thing as being an over-communicator,  I certainly am one.  You know you’ve got a problem when even your sub-conscience is frequently yelling at you to shut up.  And this has proven to be quite a large problem because as luck would have it, Brian and Camp HATE to communicate anything that isn’t absolutely necessary.  No feelings.  No details.  No explanations.  No confiding.  So as you can imagine (if you know me), I have a hard time getting along with them at times.  But after all these years of constantly wanting to “talk it out,”  I’m finally realizing (because Sarah finally set it to me straight) that I just need to stop talking.  Be quiet.  Let it go.  Leave it alone.  Leave them alone, for heaven’s sake.  But oh, man.  It’s hard for me…    And second, I’ve realized that it is really difficult for me to ever really set aside the challenging parts of my life in order to just kinda relax and have fun.    I know others who are able to do that quite easily and I admire it.  Those people are always fun, it seems.  Me?  I’m only fun if everything in my life is going super well.  I’m hoping to be fun next year.  🙂

So how was everyone’s Mother’s Day?  I got the nap that I ask for every year.  I didn’t, however, get the no-fighting I asked for.  Hmmm…  I’m pretty sure my mom asked for no-fighting every year of my eighteen years under her roof, and I’m pretty sure she never got it either.  Man, I’m so sorry, Mom!  I wish I had done more to show you how lucky I was to have you as my mom…

Oh, and when Brian asked me this year what I wanted for Mother’s day, I had told him that I wanted the little trip to Portland that Angie and Erin and I had planned, and that’s what I got.  Brian, of course, never hesitates to let me get away when I need it–Mother’s Day or not–and I sure love him for that.    And the trip was sooo fun!  We joined Allison on her date (what a sport Elliot was!), spent the night at Angie’s mom’s house, and then spent Saturday shopping and eating out.  But you know what my favorite part was?  Yep, you guessed it–the talking.  Gulp.

Anyway…

Something that happened with Camp recently reminded me of my brother, Scotty.   My family loves the story of when Scotty was in second grade or so and was scolded in class for talking and not paying attention.  The teacher had demanded that Scotty go to the front of the classroom to share with the class whatever was so important that he had to talk about it.  He obeyed and began reciting the Ten Commandments.  (How many kids do you know that recite the Ten Commandments out loud to themselves during school?  Not Camp, that’s for dang sure.  That’s not where his story is similar. 🙂 )  This story reminded me of Camp’s story because it illustrates a misunderstanding of a student by a teacher.  A couple of weeks ago, Camp came home from school very upset.   I did my best to piece together what had happened with the fragments Camp offered–he detests talking about this kind of stuff, remember.  Apparently, while Camp was in music class, his music teacher had said that if anyone did not want to participate in the music program they were practicing for, they would just do a work packet instead.  She asked if anyone wanted to do a work packet instead.  Camp raised his hand–immediately noticing there were no other hands in the air.  The teacher was disappointed.  She told Camp’s regular teacher of his preference to not participate with the rest of the class.  His regular teacher told him he was not acting like a “self-manager.”  Camp was mystified, frustrated, and embarrassed.    Lucky for both of us, I finally realized what had happened.  Obviously, the work packet option was not the option Camp’s music teacher was expecting anyone to choose.  She had thrown it out more as a threat–kind of like when I say, “You better get in the car right now, or I’m going to leave you, ” and my kids just wave goodbye at me.  She did not expect that any kid might actually prefer work packets to performing musical numbers.    Turns out one kid does (and it’s the same kid–the only kid–who refused to go up to the stand last Sunday on Mother’s Day to sing I Often Go Walking with the rest of the primary kids).  So I called Camp’s teacher and explained Camp’s point of view and she said she understood and had realized it later as well.  Poor camp–unfairly persecuted for being a worker and not a singer.  I’m kidding.  Looking back, I’ll love this story.  But I fear these kinds of misunderstandings happen all the time with me and my kids …So sad…

Janey will be starting Speech class next year which means that our days of enjoying her adorable lisp are numbered.  Just ask her to give you a cha-cha-cha and you’ll know what I mean.  So bittersweet.

Lately, I’ve felt sad that most of my time with Danin and Skip (while Jane and Camp are at school) has not really been spent with Danin and Skip.  Those same few hours are too often the same ones during which I am cleaning, at the gym, showering, or doing my hair and make-up.  I’ve felt panicky lately that I cannot remember as much as I want to about when my Sugar was younger and I seem to not have as much of her baby and toddler years on video.  It makes me so sad.  I can’t let any more time go by where I am not taking full advantage of my time with her.  I’ve been trying to do better.  She needs that time.  (I’m not so worried about Skip at this point.  He get’s plenty of my attention, but I’ll have to be careful to get him on video and stuff, too.)

Guess what?!!  I have a long eyelash!   A real one!  For a while, I just kept thinking how interesting it was that I kept getting a little extra glob of mascara on the same eyelash on my right eye–but nope!  It really is longer than all the other ones.  Sure,  it’s only here seasonally since eyelashes are constantly falling out, but it comes back faithfully every go-round, and makes me temporarily one-hundreth of an eyelash prettier.   I need to start planning pictures and special occasions around my long eyelash cycle….

Oh, and I P.R.’d in the Shamrock 5K Run a little while back.  I want to make certain that my posterity knows that at age 33, I ran the Shamrock run in 23:03.  ( Janey completed the entire 5K, too! and after convincing Danin to run in the little kids’ race (and then cheering her along the whole length of the race) she was the first to cross the finish line),  I was pretty happy.  Interestingly, I have gotten quicker with time.   While this may be just due to the added experience over time, I think there are a number of other factors at play as well–not the least of which being better running music.  Like I’ve mentioned before, the music I listen to totally affects my running speed.  And would you know?  Laura and John’s Good at Being Bad makes for a pretty decent pace.   Aaaaannnddd….you know what else makes me faster?  The fact that a 36 A flattened further by a sports bra makes for virtually no bobbing and very little wind resistance.   So there you have it–yet another reason to breast-feed.  Brian and I and Camp will all be running in the Rhody Run 5K this Saturday, so wish us luck.  I can’t wait to cheer for Camp.

Well, that’s about all I can write tonight.  I’ll post more pictures soon.