Can someone check the Lost and Found?

I can't think straight so, I must have dropped my brain somewhere.

I have posted to one class but there is already another Discussion Board posting to make and I have to make an argument. *breaking into a cold sweat*

Another class has two questions posted that I have to answer and I'm not sure how the questions relate to the chapter we have to read. *gulp*

My third class hasn't had anything posted to it yet although, the prof. e-mailed and said she's working on it. *love you!*

Remedy: Lots of beers. No, wait...that's the cure for the family reunion. The remedy for the first week of class is deep chest breathing, yoga, soft music, and only concentrating on one task at a time...

whew!

My apologies to my Mom

I know that I am getting it back as good as I gave it. I'm truly sorry for all the things I did as a teenager. I get it now. Really.

I woke up Tuesday morning to the sound of leaves. We had a pretty good breeze going and I could hear the sound of Fall through my open window. Next, will come the smell. I'll walk out of the house one day and I will get a nose full of the crisp, clean air of autumn. It smells like Halloween to me.

Most people consider Spring the season of renewal. I think it comes at the end of the year. Fall sweeps through, getting rid of summer's green and Winter wipes the slate clean...well, depending on where you live (I can't imagine Christmas in the southern states).

Sure, everything is reborn in Spring, but I feel the newness much sooner. Fall brings new books, classes, pens and pencils. There are new clothes, new teachers, and new book bags. For me, Fall is a fresh start.

Maybe that's exactly what my 16 year-old needs.

Teenagers are hazardous to your health.

This is my oldest. My first born ball of sweetness and bull-headedness all wrapped up in one. She's fighting with her boyfriend tonight and she won't talk to me. I hate that. She thinks I don't get it. She thinks I was born 36. Maybe she's right but, I distinctly remember being a teenager...really!

I guess I'll just go read my textbooks and wait until she's ready to talk. Hmph!

War and Peace

The books for my political studies class were on my porch this morning. (I have to give props to Amazon.com which saved me at least $100 on my textbooks this semester). I'm standing out at the mailbox in utter, yet momentary, confusion because the mailbox is empty and I know I heard the mailman stop at my house.

I look up to see the box on my porch and realize I walked right past my mail when I stepped out the front door. Have you ever done one of those tests where you study a picture for 30 seconds and then answer questions about it? I hate those tests, they remind me of how much attention I don't pay. If I ever get raped or pillaged, the officers that take my statement are going to want to strangle me. No, he wasn't wearing a mask. I don't remember what he looked like. But he had on a blue shirt. I think. He smelled like my grandma's drapes. That I know fo' shizzle.

I wouldn't normally be interested in a class called "War and Peace" (as in the verbs, not the ginormous novel) but my new husband (the date on the photo is incorrect, we were married on July 11th of this year) is leaving in September for a year in Afghanistan. He's a Reservist and this will be his second tour. The first time, when we were only dating, he went to Iraq and I'm pretty sure it was the longest year of my life (probably his, too).

Today, I will dive into my new books and learn about war. I don't know how much peace will be in books about the cold war, the war of 1914, and the second world war. All I know is, maybe this class will give some viable explanations of why I'm spending the next year alone.

This isn't my first time...

blogging, that is. I am a recovering Y360 addict. I am not cured, I've simply replaced my blogging illness with that of MySpace disease.

And now, I'm here. And it feels like I'm a smoker who spent the day in a non-smoking building and my day of super boring meetings just ended. These first few sentences are my sprint to the parking deck. Yessssssss!

Anywho, today I learned that registering two teenagers for high school (one Freshman and one Junior) can take three hours.

With my ten-month-old on my hip.

In a school with no air conditioning.

Okay, I'm not being honest. I already know how long registration can take. What I really learned is that my baby girl has a lot more patience than I do.