So You Had A Bad Day?

y'all.

Today I had to go back to the student support office to drop off the rest of the paperwork from yesterday. I gathered all the things I needed and placed them in a big, huge manila folder. I wanted to head out early and get this over and done with. I didn't even feed the kids.

I'm not Satan. I had a plan. I gave them milk when they woke up, but since yesterday taught me that they hate the support center, I needed a distraction. Food works nicely. Especially if they're hungry. Like haven't eaten since last night hungry. ;-) So we picked up some food and headed on our merry way.

We got there, made the treck up the hill, Sebi said he had to pee- so we found a restroom and took care of that business. Then off to deliver my smartly packaged folder. Oops. I left it in the van. Of course. So we treck back to the van, open the door. Guess what? I forgot the folder at home. uggggghhhhhh.

I still hadn't fed the kids because I was waiting for when we got into the office that they hate and has scarred them forever and ever, amen. I had no choice but to bust out the food, pack up the kids and the stroller and head on back home.

unpack the kids, grab the folder, repack the kids and back to the school.

We get in the office that has scarred them forever and ever, amen and start snowballing. Homer remembers this guy and his office. He's pissed. I broke out a candy bar. It was backup. It lasted about 2 minutes. Nice back up. Next time I'm bringing everlasting gobstoppers. So amidst the wails and cries and tantrums between Homer and Gabriel and Sebi finding EVERYTHING that he could possibly get into- we talked about my options.

Then he wants to get me registered for a speech class this summer. I have a hold on my account because of $11.00 dollars that I owe for tuition that my grants didn't cover this semester because I'm "out of district" a.k.a. "we get to screw you and make you pay more than double".

So he sends me off to go and take care of that and tells me to come right back. Off we go. me and the banshees.

payed the11 bucks, back to the office that has scarred them forever and ever, amen (but a quick trip to the restroom because Sebi has to pee again). This was our shining moment. Our encore, if you will. Sebi has discovered a lamp in his office with a motorcycle base. if you touch a specific button, not only does it light up, but it also makes a sound akin to the Harley Davidson: Reunion of Every Member Festival. Homer and Gabriel are doing their thing that they do in the office that has scarred them forever and ever, amen.

meanwhile, the counselor and I are trying to get me into this class. He can't register me because I need to be granted a petition. He makes a phone call. I hear him say, "I'm sorry I've got screaming babies in my office", so I politely excuse myself and the little darlings and step outside of his office. Sebi is running semi-circles around the stroller and jumping and jumping and jumping. This may have had something to do with him frequenting the candy bowl the receptionist had on her desk. maybe. Homer and Gabriel are at their all time worst. ALL TIME.

A nice lady with a pleasant look on her face *ahemm* comes into the office where we are and tells the receptionist that she is going to close the door *glances at me and my sideshow*, and states that they are doing testing next door.

Wonderful.

The office that has scarred them forever and ever, amen is right next to the testing center. And I just bought a bunch of college kids who were hungover and didn't get around to studying a free ticket for a re-test.

You are welcome, young Jedis. I remember those days...

So while all pandemonium has broke loose on my end, the counselor has managed to get me into the honors program. Because it's an honors class that he was trying to register me for and that's why I needed to be granted a petition. So now I have to fill out an application for the Honor's Program and fax it in so that they can send me a congratulatory e-mail and he can get me into this class. Is it just me, or does it seem like this man is hell-bent on getting me into that dang class. I mean really. I think there are others out there.

so now, I've got the kids. you know, the 3 of them. and I'm expected to take an honor's speech class in 5 weeks, online, with two class meetings on the campus that has NO PARKING. NO. PARKING. It is known as the campus that has no parking. I don't even know what that campus' real name is. It's just always been the campus that has no parking.

and this guy can maybe get me some childcare in the spring. maybe.

I'll talk about my afternoon later. I'm waiting for 5 o' clock...

Kids Screaming. Phone Ringing.

Today was a busy, busy day. And it's only 1:00. I got the kids up and fed them an elegant breakfast (maple and brown sugar oatmeal). After that was all over the kitchen table, chairs, the dog, my blinds, and their bibs, I reconsidered taking the "easy" way out of cooking again tomorrow morning.

Then we headed out the door to load up in the van. Only they weren't loading up in the van, they were running and playing and then they saw Rodger and his dog, Moe......

25 minutes later we were in the van ready to head to the financial aid office, because they want to deny me financial aid *and I wanted to get up on my horse and say the hell if they weren't going to give me financial aid* but I thought it would be best to pay them a friendly visit and fill out an appeal form and make something happen, quick, in regards to the paying of my schooling. And I don't own a horse.

So we make the treck from the parking lot to the side of the building that has handicap access for the stroller and continue our 3 mile hike to where we need to be. The financial aid office. Which is where everyone else at Austin Community College needed to be also.... apparently. As the natives got restless I cruised around the hallway and noticed the student services office. what do you know? I was just on the computer this morning looking up this office to submit a request to help with childcare and here I am standing in front of the office. Of course I went in, (even though I had already put my name on the list at the financial aid office), but I figured they were on a pretty good wait and this place was pretty much deserted.


I spoke with the gentleman, the babies kept throwing their bottles, he got my info, Sebi started fussing about being thirsty, I was given some paperwork to fill out, Gabi threw off his shoe, a nice lady picked it up along with their bottles and handed them to me, the nice gentleman asked if there was a time I could come back without the children, I finished the paperwork, and then we headed back to the financial aid office. All while the babies are screaming their heads off. **before I go on, can I just point out the irony in the fact that in the office that is suposed to help me get childcare, the man asked if I could come back without the kids? no. I can't. because I need childcare. duh.**

Guess which office cleared out while all that was going on? The financial aid office. It was now deserted- so I went in to get myself on the list(again) and hey, hey, hey! I was the first on the list. I go back to the hallway and wait for my name to be called. The babies are still crying, Sebi is telling me that "it's time to go home and he wants to go home, and can we please go home now??" and then someone set off the fire alarm. It was not one of my kids. Thank you very much.


So we wait. and wait, and wait, and other people start showing up and putting their names on the list and FINALLY after 17 minutes they call my name. Hallelujah. We shuttle in through the itty bitty door which is just wide enough for a double stroller and park ourselves at a desk. After much computer searching from the young lady helping me, she tells me that I need to fill out an appeal form. thank you, genius. But I also get this extra tid-bit of information: "you need to go to the nursing department and have them fill out a degree plan"


"Can't I just print one from online?"


"no. they need to fill it out. you have to go to the nursing department and have them fill it out and then bring it back here to us." Oh, yes. And all the kids are crying now.


It is slowly becoming obvious that getting the information they are requesting and submitting it quickly is now quite possible........in Fantasy land.


So we leave with my paperwork and all our tears and the dread that I now have to drive way south into east Austin to go to the nursing department. The ride down south wasn't bad. Homer jibber-jabbered and screamed and Sebi asked if we could get chicken nuggets and french fries and a sprite, and I said yes so he was happy. Gabriel is always an angel in the car. We got to the Wendy's, picked up some food, and headed to the Eastview campus. On a side note, I believe that campus is called eastview because you get a glimpse of east Austin on your way there. Most people would care not to see it.

We parked illegally in a faculty/staff parking space because I couldn't find parking anywhere closer than a mile down a hill and I was not about to treck up that big hill with the kids. I know. Some poor professor was probably late to teach their class because of me. Lord have mercy on me.

We made it inside and to the "elegators" and rode up to the third floor. I signed in at the nursing office and the receptionist asked me what I needed. I explained and she asked if I had the paperwork they had given me at the financial aid office. Of course I had the paperwork. I just came from there. Only, I left it in the car.

Back down the "elegator", back to the car (glad I parked illegally now), back to the building and up to the 3rd floor.

Receptionist: "you need to turn this in on the 2nd floor in room 8227".

thank you. I enjoy the fact that my 3 year old delights in the pushing of the buttons of the elegators, but could you have spared me a trip and given me that info the 1st time we met? or did you not notice that I'm tugging half a basketball team along with me?

Thank goodness the babies and Sebi were on their best behavior at this campus- since they were munching on fries and nuggets and drinking sprite.

The paperwork got turned in, we went for one last ride in the elegator and headed to the campus bookstore -because I had a plan for the ride home which I like to call candy.

It wasn't for me. I wanted them to be entertained for the long ride back home. I just didn't foresee the sugar rush that I was to have to deal with once we got back. I tried to pull the old, "hey, y'all want to watch a show?" card.

they weren't having it. They wanted to play outside. And the neighbor had her pool out and full of water. Many splashes later, we headed inside. And now they are watching a show. and I can not wait until nap time.

I have to reserve a park for their birthday party and switch electric companies and then fill out some more paperwork from the nice man from the student services so that I can just drop it off tomorrow and spare him exposure to my life.

just another day in paradise.

Field Day

A couple weeks back, Sebastian's school had Field Day for the kids. They had bubble blowers, bounce houses, and all sorts of fun stations for the kids to enjoy. When I told Sebi that we would be going to Daddy's work, he ran to his room to get ready.

Notice the red whistle he has around his neck? He knows that daddy takes a whistle to work, and I guess he thought he better bring his along.

It's What's For Dinner.

Today we went to Walmart so I could buy some caladiums to plant *kill* because I am relentless and they like shade and I have shade. We also picked up some golf clubs for Sebi and a huge pink ball because I'm a sucker *the kids were making a scene* .

Then we headed off to Sam's Club to get lots.of.meat. and a few other essentials for the holiday weekend *like beer*. I love taking the kids to Sam's because they have that double seater grocery cart, so only one of the kids (99% of the time is Homer by the way) has to sit in the cart. After shopping we headed to the car, and since I was the only adult present I got stuck pushing my 3 boys and all the groceries up a hill in the snow barefoot. Wait. In the heat. 90+ degree heat. It was so hot I considered cleaning the driveway and just cooking the steaks there tonight. Who am I kidding- I wouldn't do that. It would just give the neighbors reason to phone for the funny bus to come and pick me up. Although, I am now questioning whether or not I could scramble an egg out there....

back to where I started. So, I'm pushing the kids up the hill in the heat and I say in a rhetorical fashion and mostly to myself, "you boys are no joke. what have I been feeding y'all?!"

Sebi: "Sphagetti! And macaroni!"

The child will have protein tonight. Because apparently, he's all good on the carbs.

Neighborhood Watch

I wanted to share this because I think it is one of the sweetest expressions of love that I have ever seen. I am privileged to see this gentleman just about every day driving (who I am assuming is his wife) in this little buggy that I can only imagine he must have custom built for her.

Every day, he rides by and we smile and wave hello. He takes her to the mailbox where they collect their mail and then she reads through it on her ride back home.

I don't believe this couple knows how happy it makes me to see them riding by every day. It makes me appreciate where my family is right now, because I wouldn't have wanted to miss out on the most heartfelt acts of serving I have ever seen.

Rock beats Flower

I have always had a love for the gardening. I have this ON again/off again relationship with it. It is really a wonderful hobby to have and a wonderful stress relief. Unfortunately, I was not hit by the Martha Stewart stick- and most of my projects don't come out as expected.

That being said. I hate to be a big downer with all my hype about my "garden" and all....but. I hit a little snaffoo which I would like to call the death of my flowers. I do have a fabulous rock garden, though. FABulous. I found one of those shiny sparkly rocks that looks like its got flecks of gold embedded in it. So I searched *demolished* some of the back yard digging up several others.
They look amazing in the sun and I've been known to go outside and just stare at them. My neighbor, Roger, teases me and says "They haven't grown any, Becky!" every time he catches me out there admiring my rocks. And I have good reason.

They don't need to be fed. They really don't need water unless they need an occasional cleaning. And they don't seem to talk as much as my petunias. Quite frankly, the biggest dilemna they have given me is how I should arrange them. The real beauty here is that I can move them over and over again and they will NEVER die. NEVER.

And I may as well admit that I have planted about 10 calla lilly bulbs. Before you ooohh and aaahhh- just know that I planted them in full sun. *Meaning there was full sunlight when I planted them.* I grazed outside today to stare at my beautiful rocks (again) and realized that by 3:00 in the afternoon they were in full shade. DOH!

I wish I had the photo skills of someone more experienced, because this picture does not due my rocks justice. Trust me. They sparkle like gold. And they are all slightly different shades of red, pink, gold, or green.That sad wimpy leaf on the right lower corner is a canna that I transplanted from a neighbors garden. Obviously, it misses home. And the cleared section of mulch is where the callas will hopefully make an appearance.....some day. The vincas off in the front are my next victims.

I've Been In The "Garden"

And I had a post- but I need a picture (or two) to go along, AND I needed sunlight, and the sun had shifted and I had shade and you'll understand when I post the post and the accompanying pics... so just you wait until that sun comes up, y'all.

just you wait. or not.

Fajitas

Everyone needs to realize that you must purchase skirt steak. I am not insulting anyone's intelligence. But marketing has something out there (at least H.E.B. does, anyway) that they conveniently set right next to the skirt steak which they label "beef for fajitas". Look away. That is not skirt steak. It's the hot dog of skirt steak, or the 'can you guess what I am' version.

Secondly, I like to have a phone handy. And a beer. So this should be done after 5 o'clock. My dad and I have this deal where we call one another if we're making fajitas. We drink a beer together over the wire and pretty much say the same thing every time.

"hey. whatcha doin? I'm making some B.A.F.'s" - that's bad-ass fajitas. Learn the lingo.

You should also have a spiked mallet(metal works best), unless you choose to get the tenderized version where they do the work for you- just know they don't always trim all of the fat, so it's on your conscience. But you'll be missing out on letting out the weeks frustrations on all the meat. And though your forearms may thank you, I suggest you go through the whole process at least once. It's sordof a right of passage with this recipe.

Lastly, the fajita seasoning is gonna make or break you. I use Fiesta brand. The label reads, extra fancy mesquite flavored Fajita seasoning. If you use another brand, it's gonna change the flavor. I have experimented. or had an emergency trip to Wal-Mart because I was out- and Wal-Mart doesn't carry Fiesta brand spices. If you can't find it, you're basically S.O.L. Basically.

Enough with the details. Here's what you'll need.

* skirt steak
* mallet (for tenderizing)
* fajita seasoning (Fiesta brand- extra fancy mesquite flavored)
* very sharp knife
* brown sugar
* cayenne pepper
* adolph's meat tenderizer
* secret ingredient
*zip-lock bags
* beer. ice cold (or this could work)



get comfortable. If you are going to trim the fajitas yourself, just know that it's not an easy job. Unless you have awesome cutlery, which I do not, so everyone out there just humor me and convince yourself that you're gonna be at this for awhile. Hence, the beer.

Once that's all done, bust out the mallet. Be warned that raw carnage will probably fly in various directions, the kids should steer clear of the area, and there will be intense sanitizing just after. I told y'all this is work. Also, you shouldn't have children who are napping because it is a very loud process. I'm just saying. I like to pound the living daylight out of the meat starting from the center and working my way out. It's the mexican version of pounding out a chicken breast for chicken parmigiana. And I do both sides. Does it make a difference? Heck if I know. But, that's how I do it and noone likes chewy fajitas, so you make the call..

Next you're going to massage the meat with the fajita seasoning and meat tenderizer. No need for zen music or incense. Usually a sporting event playing in the background from the t.v. will suffice. But you do want to do BOTH sides. sprinkle evenly over the meat and then just rub it in.

Now you will sparingly sprinkle both the brown sugar and cayenne over the meat. Sparingly, not miserly. You can adjust the cayenne and brown sugar to your taste level the next time. Or omit it. Whatever, it's your bbq. but these should also be massaged in. Again, both sides. cover the meat and let it sit in the fridge for at least a couple of hours to let the fajita seasoning work it's magic.


Then comes the secret ingredient. Barbecue sauce. Yes. I like to choose a thick and spicy or a sweet and spicy like a spicy brown sugar. Just put the meat in huge zip bags, cover with sauce, swoosh it around so every bit is covered and refrigerate overnight and the majority of the next day.

Once it's grilling time, just remove from the bags and you can leave as much or as little sauce as you choose.

While the meat is cooking, head inside to start on your homemade tortillas.



o.k., I don't make homemade tortillas. I just drink a beer and talk about how I'm going to... some day.


**update** I almost forgot. You can always add a little beer along with the sauce to keep things happy. And you can get creative with which sauce you choose too. My father used a sweet vidalia onion dressing a few times that was pretty decent.

Oh Fine Already.

You begged, you pleaded, you went sleepless nights. So,

Coming Soon: My infamous fajita recipe. Hope everyone's in the mood for grilling this weekend.

Yes, Jesus Loves Me.

Every other week I volunteer in the preschool Sunday class. I teach the 3 year olds. This was my week. And I had Bailey in my class.

I love when Bailey is in my class. She is the most precious thing. She recites the bible verse and always remembers it. She tells me about when she went to Sea World and how there was this lady that stood on one foot "like this" (she demonstrates) and is just one of the joys I get out of serving.

She started preschool and was terrified to be left there. I still remember the very 1st day I had her in class. She cried and cried when her mother left her. I picked her up and held her for a good part of the class. That week we were learning about the King of Babylon and Shadrak, Meshak, and Abendnego.

I always like to give a little modern twist to the stories to make them more interesting to the kids. While I was reading the story that explained that they were expected to bow down and worship an idol, I told the kids, you know what I think they said? I think they said, "Not gonna do it! Ain't gonna happen! I. DON'T. THINK. SO!"


And little Bailey (who had been shy and crying and in my arms the whole time) wiggled herself free and put her little hand up and repeated, "Not gonna do it! Ain't gonna happen! I. DON'T. THINK. SO!"

Obviously, the child spoke diva and I reached her. It is a moment that I will never, ever forget.

And today, she gave me another little moment that I will treasure. The kids started filing in this morning one by one. Each and every one of them came with what I will kindly call a burst of energy. Which I think was inspired by the dads who decided to make breakfast for Mother's Day- which consisted of sugar slathered in syrup and sprinkles. I'm convinced.

Miss Becky laid down a proposition for them. Because I'm crazy enough to think that I can reason with a class, roomful of hopped up 3 year olds. I offered up some free playtime for "this much time" (I used my hands as a measure) and then we would do our bible verse and our bible story. but When Miss Becky said it was time to clean up, everyone would listen. Right?



Bailey: Um. Teacher?


Miss Becky: Yes, Bailey?


Bailey: Sometimes, I have an attitude.


Miss Becky: laughing. (I couldn't help it.)


Bailey: (very serious face) It's not funny!


Miss Becky: stops laughing. puts on serious face


Bailey: Sometimes, I have an attitude. And it's not funny because I get in trouble and my mommy spanks me and I cry A-LOT!


Miss Becky: That's alright, Bailey. It's who you are.

I thought to myself, "you know, Bailey. Sometimes, Miss Becky has an attitude too."

Quite Contrary

Some time last year when it was too hot to plant anything (but just the right temperature to grow lots and lots of weeds), I decided to pull up the weeds (and dead shrubs), lay down some tarp, and cover it with mulch.

I patiently waited for springtime to come so I could plant something. I planted the petunias my husband got me.

Y'all. they are the most dramatic little plants EVER. (please read with a whiny voice) "We need sun. We need water. We need to be talked to. You should have planted us over there. Look how her garden is growing."

I swear they are like a bunch of needy teenagers that are pissed off because I'm not making enough food for them or giving them appropriate living quarters. They are sulking as we speak. Literally sulking. Look at those pouts...

If I May Get A Chip Off My Shoulder...

Today I spent a lot of time in the car due to several errands I had to run. While I was driving, a song came on that changed my perspective a bit. The lyrics sang,

you're gonna miss this
you're gonna want this back
you're gonna wish this time
hadn't gone by so fast

these are some good times
so take a good look around
you may not see it now-
But, you're gonna miss this

I've spent so much time planning, wondering, and getting excited about next year or the year after that, and sometimes (I am ashamed to admit), five years from now.

I don't want to miss this time. I don't want to look back and not remember my past because I was so caught up in getting to my future.

We Got New Neighbors

New neighbors with 5 (yes, I said f-i-v-e) chihuahuas. They are kept outside. Which happens to be right by my bedroom windows. Carma does a mean little circle. If you knew my dog, you'd get where I'm coming from...