I passed my comps. I passed my state board exam. So, now I can be a special ed teacher. Isn't that great?

I got a job teaching special ed at a local elementary school. I will start out with about 5 or 6 kids. I am excited, but I am also going through a little mourning period.

I am going to miss this baby so much during the day! He is my sidekick! He goes everywhere with me. Are we going to have enough time together after school? Am I still going to be his favorite person? Is he going to feel abandoned?

It tastes like feet in here!

Yesterday was a LONG day. Starting with the garage "sale," wherein we desperately started giving things away at ridiculously low prices when any unfortunate soul stumbled upon our event, and ending with the Target Trip of Mortification, wherin I established that I function very poorly on small amounts of sleep.

Specifically, let me tell you about the Target Trip.

Daniel, Dillon, my friend Brandi and her daughter were there with me. We were all exhausted from working the garage sale in the rain. It was pretty late in the evening - 8 or 9 pm at least. So, sleep deprivation played a part. (I apparently cannot stress this enough.)

The absurdity started when I saw someone that I knew from church. She walked by the aisle we were on. She didn't see us, so she didn't speak, but I could see that she was visibly pregnant, which was a surprise to me. In my confusion, I decided to CHASE after her to say hello. Yes. Chase. I pushed past Daniel and the cart and waved so she would see me.

"Hey, Holly! How are you? I didn't know you were pregnant!" was my greeting.

That was a little tactless, but when you realized that her name is not Holly, it becomes even more absurd.

She looked at me blankly, and said, "It's Meredith."

OH.

RIGHT.

I actually knew that, and don't know where "Holly" came from, but you can see that the two names are not similar at all and do not even share one single letter in common.

I couldn't recover. My face was really hot and the verbal barrage just got worse.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Meredith! Well, I didn't know you were pregnant! When are you due? I haven't seen you at church lately, but we go to the early service and I guess maybe you go to the late service? You look great, but, pregnant. You know? I mean..."

She looked at me and said, "November."

"Oh! Is that when you are due? When in November?"

"The end. Near Thanksgiving."

"Oh! What day?"

(Seriously, Amanda. Shut. Up.)

"The 23rd." She begins frantically looking around trying to get away.

I begin to press her for more specific details, like the hour of the day, but Daniel swoops in to save me. During this exchange, he had been standing nearby, waiting for his psycho ward patient to return to the group. When he saw that I was not going to do so voluntarily, he pushed the cart up beside me and started to steer me away.

"Well, bye, Meredith! It was great to see you!" She nodded and hustled away, relieved to escape.

Daniel and Brandi dragged me down a bedding aisle and we began to review the event. They were looking at me like I was crazy. (Imagine that.)

"Who was that? You apparently didn't know her very well!" (Brandi)

"Why did you call her Holly? That isn't even her name!" (Daniel)

(See, very helpful people I have in my life.)

Anyway, my face was so hot and red that it hurt. I couldn't focus on shopping anymore. We struggled through the next twenty minutes. Daniel was trying to shop for sheets, Brandi was wondering why she had become my friend, and I was obsessively rehashing the conversation out loud to see if I could make it any less painful.

It didn't work. I woke up this morning to the sun peeking through the blinds. Here was my train of thought:

It is a beautiful Sunday. I love Sundays! It is my favorite day! I better get Daniel up for church. Church. Oh. Man! I called Meredith the wrong name! I wonder if Daniel wants to switch churches. Or move to another town. Ug.

It's official!

He is on the move! It took over ten months, but that fat baby has figured out how to crawl. I thought you would want to know since I have previously expressed concern. Now, lets discuss his reading fluency...

One man's trash

I am having a garage sale this weekend. I love garage sales, I just don't love having them. What a pain - waking up early, putting on price tags, trying to arrange items aesthetically. Not to mention that it is over 100 degrees by 11 am in East Texas.

We have some cold drinks, box fans, and a radio. We are going to make it as pleasant as we can, and you know things will be half-price by noon.

So, if you are in the neighborhood, come on by. I have some ceramic coasters and a banana hanger for you.

How to score a cute babe: A story in pictures by Dillon

Do you see me? I blend in pretty well with all these tough guys.

Here is the main event!

Mom had to hold me down for the finishing touches.

Was that smooth, or what???

Mullet Prevention

Dillon is getting a big-boy haircut today! His hair is so thick and it is getting long in the back and over his ears. I don't want him to have a baby-boy mullet, so we are going to visit the barbershop and see if we can trim it up.

I'll post some pictures later!

The price of fame

I got some big sunglasses. I guess I want to be cool like Jessica Simpson, or any of the other people who wear big sunglasses.

These are anything but cool. They make the skin around my eyes sweat. It is like wrapping a strip of Saran Wrap around my eyes and then going outside in 100+ degree heat. They need some vents, I think. When I finally take them off (after about three minutes of having them on) my eye makeup is dripping off. I look like a haggard raccoon.

But for those three minutes, I bet a lot of people think I'm famous.

Figures

I have post-nasal drip. That means my throat is sore all day long and I have this little stupid choking cough that brings tears to my eyes, but is otherwise unproductive.

This morning, Dillon and I went to Walmart. I had several things to get and Sudafed was one of them. We went early to beat the crowd, but that was dumb cause the pharmacy is not open until 9. We hung around till the pharmacist got there, then practically signed my life away in order to put my hands on the little box of pills.

I finished my shopping and checked out. After I got home, I realized that the Sudafed never made it to the checkout. What the hey?

I contemplated going back for it but decided not to. Signing for that product twice in one day probably puts me on some national meth-maker's list that would take years to get off of.

Curses on the drug makers for making my life hard! I wish you YEARS of post nasal drip with no Sudafed.

*snort*

Feeling low? Just watch these ladies for a little self-esteem boost.

They say it's your birthday!

In case you didn't know already, I just adore Dillon. He is the greatest thing, even better than sliced bread, and I cannot even imagine life without him.

That being said, we are coming up on his first birthday. I have already had several people ask about his first birthday party. Things like:

"OOOH! Am I invited?" (Yes! And what was your name again?)

"Have you decided what theme you are doing?" (Uh, the theme is... Dillon is ONE!)

"Have you ordered supplies?" (Like a cake? Like canned water and MRE's? What do you mean 'supplies'???)

Apparently, I am not thinking hard enough about this. Someone suggested I do a theme of something Dillon likes. Ohhhhhkay...

He likes Cheerios. Maybe we could have a Cheerio party? What would that look like?

He likes his door-frame jumper thing. Maybe we could get enough for everyone and just hang around jumping. Do they make adult-sized ones?

He likes to lick Tux in the mouth. Hm... I am pretty sure I won't be able to turn that into a party that is fun for anyone but him.

So, help me! Ideas, websites, anything. Feel free to plan it FOR me. That way I can concentrate on other things. Like obsessively checking on his privates. (See post below.)

What you don't know can hurt your son's manhood

So, they do these super-easy circumcisions now that do not even have to be obsessively cared for. You just make sure the area is clean and doesn't get infected. You just check it with your sense of vision, whereas, in the times of yore, the mother used to have to slather her son with vaseline and do some skin pulling and all that jazz. Not anymore.

Well, lemme tell ya something. Many people have changed my son's diaper over the course of the last ten months. No one, not even ONE PERSON told me that his little manhood looked, um... different. His doctor even checked in that diaper every time we went and never said anything.

Our doc is moving, and we had to switch to a new pediatrician. We went yesterday for a really late 9 month checkup. The first thing he said was, "Oh, we are gonna have to fix that. His circ grew back up."

WHAT?

He got out some gauze and some vaseline and then he made my baby scream as loudly as I have ever heard him scream. There was even some blood involved. Just Dillon's. Not the doctor's, even though I was feeling the Mother Bear in me clawing to get out.

So take this as a warning - if your son has a penis, let a lot of people look at it, and ask their opinion. You might feel a little obsessed, but apparently that is the way you are supposed to be.

Honey do or honey don't?

I have my comp exam this week. It is over everything I have learned over this past year. I am the biggest procrastinator when it comes to studying. I will put it off and find tons of other things to do. (Isn't it ironic that I learned so much about teaching ADHD kiddos this year?)

To help me out, Daniel told me he would be in charge of Dillon today. Daniel is a pretty big TV watcher, so I envisioned an afternoon of them lounging around in the living room, watching HGTV and playing with the huge basket of toys that threatens to take over my house. I would study in the bedroom, away from the demon-computer and all those sorts of distractions.

Nope. That isn't what happened.

Daniel picked today to mark off the one thing on his to-do list. "Deadbolts." It has said that on his to-do list for about 5 months. I continually add and mark things off of my own list, but his has stayed the same since he bought the deadbolts at Lowe's back in February.

So, there I was, actually making an attempt to study.

Daniel dragged out all of his power tools, and set up a workstation in our bedroom. He has begun drilling and chiseling, Dillon was yelling, and Tux was running around, fretting at all the noise. I saw an opportunity to take a "break" from studying, so I grabbed the camera cause I knew you wouldn't believe me without proof.

Or maybe you would. I guess it isn't THAT hard to believe.