I Have a Creeper, and I Like to Pee Alone and Drink Cherry Pepsi

"I Have a Creeper"
We all have one or two, whether we know it or not.  I have a few.  I'm aware of it, but when it is blatantly thrown in my face, it freaks me out.  I considered ending my blog and deleting my Facebook, but I decided that I am not going to end my cyber-social life because someone else gets their jollies by nosing into my life.  I've said many times that I don't post anything I wouldn't want anyone to read.  I mean it.  I have no problem sharing the details of life that I post here.  What bothers me is people who know me, and maybe don't like me, reading and poring over every word I write trying to get any and all information they can about me.

I don't understand the motive, and I don't understand the purpose.  My life isn't all that interesting, though I try to make it blog-worthy at best.  These "creepers," when confronted, would tell you they don't give two flips about me or my life, yet they continue tracking me.  One person told me they knew where I lived and knew "everything" about me, and that they had found my boyfriend on Facebook.  OK?  Want a gold star?  His profile is private, so I'm not sure what information they obtained, but they are trying to bully me and I don't care for it.

I had a girlfriend who was cornered at a funeral and interrogated as to my whereabouts, my lifestyle, and all the goings-on of my life.  Did I mention this interrogation was by a self-proclaimed Andrea-despiser?  It's sickening to me.  I have moved on and away from Warsaw and its drama.  I have very FEW contacts there by choice.  It would be nice if those who supposedly want nothing to do with me would practice what they preach and butt out.  Move on with your life and let me live mine.

That was my rant.  Now here's my 5QF!

"I Like to Pee Alone and Drink Cherry Pepsi"

1. What do you do when you have time to yourself?
Until yesterday, I literally had NO time to myself.  When Chloe wasn't here, I was working.  When Bryan wasn't here, Chloe was.  The only time I may have had to myself was the hour or so on Saturday morning that I was getting ready.  The most wonderful thing about that hour was being alone in the bathroom.  A shower without the bathroom door bursting open letting cold air fill the room.  "Potty time" without someone walking in (and Chloe wasn't the only one) wanting to use the sink, or just chat. I can't tell you how many times I've said, "Is it too much to ask to pee ALONE?  Just two minutes in the bathroom alone."  So time alone in the bathroom is what I do when I'm alone.

BUT.  Now that Chloe is in pre-school, I have about two and a half hours each day all to myself.  Yesterday I walked two miles (how I've missed my walks!), watched Grey's Anatomy (UN-interrupted) and flicked to Girl Meets Gown on commercials.  No Yo-Gabba-Gabba, no bossy Ruby, no Backpack.  I also did laundry, showered (and kept ALL the steam in the bathroom) and put on (gasp!) make-up, something I NEVER do on weekdays.  I was very happy when six-thirty rolled around and all three of us were at the table discussing our days, but I did enjoy my alone-time.  I can definitely get used to it.


2. When you look out your kitchen window, what do you see?
I don't see another house, or a fat neighbor in shorts and tall-socks.  I don't see anyone creeping by, I don't see an old woman's bent-over ass.  I don't see stray dogs or over-grown bushes.  I see my car, and the random other vehicles that may be parked here.  I see the road, the field full of cows, and the barn.  I see trees up on the hill, and more fields of hay and cows.  Way up on the hill I see the church.  And at night, I see the stars.  I love it out here.
3. Who/What would you want to be reincarnated as?
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.  I think I'd like to be reincarnated as a giraffe.  They're just so...cool.  :)  I'd even take being a zoo giraffe and show off for little kids all day and eat crackers and stick out my long tongue at them :)
4. What is your biggest pet peeve about other people's kids?
I try not to get irritated with other people's kids, because I know that kids are just kids.  However, when we are talking about older children, I DESPISE disrespectful children.  I understand that kids can be loud, uncouth, and obnoxious.  It's their nature, and I am pretty tolerant of kids in general.  But I can not STAND when kids are blatantly rude, disrespectful, or foul-mouthed.

Where little kids are concerned, I get irritated more with the parents.  For example, if your child is screaming her lungs out in Children's Place, please do not continue shopping.  Please take your child from the store so the rest of us don't have a meltdown.  In that case it's not the screaming child who "peeves" me, it's the mother.

5. Regular or Diet soda?
Diet "SODA" ranks right around whole-wheat pasta for me.  Yuck.  Two things I SHOULD be using in my diet in place of their unhealthy counter-parts, but I just can't do it.  I will, on a rare occasion, get a Diet Coke if I'm at Casey's and needing a caffeine fix mid-day, but when eating out, which is about the only time I drink pop, I always go regular.  Fountain Pepsi, please, with cherry.  :)

Her First Day.

In all my life, I never imagined the first day of pre-school to go like this.  I imagined myself crying as my first (and only) baby put on her big-girl clothes and went off to her first day of school.  I figured she'd cling to my leg, and that I'd cry all the way home.  It was nothing like that.

I woke to the sound of thunder and noticed, though it wasn't visible through the clouds, the sun had come up.  I rolled over and looked at the clock.  It was 10:30 AM.  Good thing we didn't have morning class!  I went into the living room and saw Chloe curled up on the couch watching the credits of Tinkerbelle (somehow when it storms at night ANYWHERE but her own bed calms her nerves).  "Is it morning?" she asked sleepily.  "Yeah," I said.  She smiled.  She knew it was her first day.

We got our lazy butts around and got ready, and headed off to school.  It was pouring rain, and we had all the first day supplies to lug with us. She was all smiles, though.

We went to the school and waited in the foyer for the teacher to come get the kiddos.  Chloe was very quiet and shy around the other kids and parents, but I knew she was bubbling on the inside.  When the teacher came, the children lined up, and the parents all followed with their yellow Dollar General sacks in tow.  Several parents crowded the doorway; some went into the room and led their children to the cubbies.  I stood back, as is my nature, and watched Chloe wiggle her way through the crowd.  She stood at the table where her teacher was trying to get everyone organized, and followed the directions to put her bag away and get a puzzle.  I felt bad not having said goodbye.  I scooted into the doorway and watched her grab a colorful balloon puzzle.  She looked up and winked at me.  I smiled and she said, "Bye, Mom!  See ya after school!"  I stepped to the table, kissed her cheek, and told her bye.  I squeezed past a bawling grandma and a picture-snapping mom.  I wondered if it was bad that I wasn't upset or hurt that she was going to school.  I started to feel guilty, but realized that I am happy for her.  I do miss her being a baby sometimes, but for the most part I enjoy watching her gain her independence and grow into a little girl who will all too soon grow into an adult.  I'm excited for her to meet new friends and start the journey of school.  I don't think badly of any of the mothers who let their babies go in tears, but I feel good about the relationship Chloe and I have, and I am proud to be encouraging her forward rather than trying to hold on to her baby days.

Another Five Question Friday

1. How many pets do you have?
Welllll let's see. There's Sadie, the shepherd-chow, Libby the rat-terrier, Natasha the guinea pig, Bob and Pygmy the goats, Thomson the turkey, Jolene the cow...I think that's all of the named pets =/ Is that seven?

2. If you could switch places with anyone in the world for one day, who would it be?
If I could switch places with anyone in the world for one day, I would switch with Dr. Phil so I could get paid a lot of money to give people blunt opinions and be on tv :)

3. What is your favorite money saving tip?
Keep the change. I know, the banks do it now all fancy where they round up your purchases, but at the end of every day, I empty my pockets, my purse, the washer, etc. into the piggy bank. About every other month I cash in anywhere from $25.00 to $60.00. Every penny counts! At the end of the year I have saved anywhere from $300.00 to $720.00. The real trick, though, is to not look at it as "free" money and spend it on dinners out or shopping ;)

4. What do you want your kids to be when they grow up?
Whatever makes them happy. Chloe told me the other day she might be a cheese-cutter (my brother works for a cheese company). That's ok with me as long as it's what she wants to do.


5. What is your favorite quote?
"I hate quotations. Tell me what you know." --Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Plan

I was thumbing through a magazine when my Life company called.
"Hello?" I anwered, expecting a foreign accent in automation.
"Hi! Is this Andrea?" picture Flo from the Progressive commercial.
"Yes," I replied.
"Hi, Andrea. I notice that you terminated your Happiness contract some time ago, and you aren't on a plan with us. In order to maintain Life, I'm going to need to set you up on some kind of plan." I knew this had been coming.
"Look," I said, "I terminated my contract because I wasn't happy. The Happiness wasn't working for me, and I wasn't going to continue paying for something I couldn't use."
"I understand, Andrea, but you can't LIVE without Life coverage, so you're going to have to choose a plan. We have misery, desperation, and apathy available at very reasonable prices if cost is an issue." I was becoming irritated with "Flo."
"I paid for a Happiness plan and I DIDN'T GET IT! I got Misery and paid for Happiness. I invested a lot into that plan, and it returned NOTHING."
"I'm so sorry, Andrea. Why don't you come in to the office. I think I can work with you since you have been with the company so long. I just need you to bring your Visa card, all your designer shoes, your Internet information, all your work clothes, and your queen-sized bed."
I was confused, but I figured it was worth a shot. So I took all the things she asked for and headed to the Life office. When I walked in I was amazed to see a woman who looked EXACTLY like "Flo" in an office much like the one on the Progressive commercial. Weird.
"You must be Andrea!" she said cheerfully. I was having trouble hating her.
"Ding, ding, ding," I said sarcastically. She then asked me to place the items I had brought on the counter. I laid them out carefully, only to see her scoop them off into the trash.
"What are you doing?" I asked her.
"We can't start you on a new plan until we remove all traces of the previous one. Trust me, Andrea, this plan will be much better. All you have to do is make some exchanges."
I wasn't too keen on her little plan, but I figured it couldn't get worse. She sat a pair of brown boots on the counter.
"What are those?" I asked. Other than my Dr. Martens, which she considered "designer," I had never worn boots.
"Part of your plan," she cooed. She went on to inform me that I was no longer allowed shopping trips to the Buckle, I would wear the brown boots for casual and work shoes, and my casual jeans and t-shirts would have to do for attire. I would be sleeping on a full-size bed, and no longer have DSL Internet. "Also, your brother won't be mowing for you anymore, because you won't live in town. Closest fast-food looks to be about twenty minutes from your new area."
"Do you mind telling me how this MORE EXPENSIVE plan is supposed to make me happy?" I growled at her.
"Ah, last but not least, let me show you your new Mate. It's the BC-5000, our newest, most up-to-date Mate! Andrea I can get you this Mate for the simple cost I just described. Would you like to know his features?" I was impressed. He looked great. He was sturdy and attractive. A newer model than I was used to, but I was intrigued.
"The BC-5000 is attentive, caring, loving, and protective. He is an excellent provider, and works very well. We have had no troubles with this model. He will listen to you, he will love you for you, he will hold you when you need to be held, he will kiss you even when you don't want him to, and he will be your life-long partner, always taking care of you and being an equal attributer to the relationship. He has a lifetime guarantee, and," she looked around and lowered her voice "he is your soul-mate."
"He's...amazing," I uttered, "but what does he have to do with all this stuff?"
"To operate well with him, you'll be living on his farm. Thus the boots and old jeans. You'll be in a little country house on a little farm where people won't stalk you or bother you. You'll sleep in a full-size bed and still have more room than your queen because you'll want to stay so close to him. And you won't need those "work" clothes anymore, because you'll be busy making a home for you and your new Mate. What do you say?"
"So I can trade all this crap for THAT?" I asked, astonished.
"Yes!" she exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear. She lowered her voice again, as if she were telling me a secret. "We call it the True Love plan."
"I'll take it!"

My First 5QF and Saved by the Blog

I started following Five Crooked Halos a while back, but for the first time am using her Five Question Friday as a blog post. I have my REGULAR post also, which I'm going to just smoosh into this one. So. Here is Five Question Friday:

1. Do you have any nicknames and if so how did it come about?
The nickname "Andy" is one that my mom's family used when I was younger. My uncle, Larry, still calls me that to this day, but it's not something I really go by. Jodi, Tab, Kristin, and maybe Tara all called me that in school. And Tab always gave me Ande's mints for Christmas because of the name thing...but I LOVE them anyway, and I miss that yearly treat ;)

When I was 13 little Lindsay came along, and in trying to say my name, she came up with "Dee-Duh." We spelled it Dida, and it stuck. Jamie still calls me that, as does Lindsay's family, and a teacher my mom used to work with, because she thought it was so cute.

2. What is your birth order amongst your siblings?
I'm oldest of two. At one time I was the responsible one, and my brother the enabled baby, but he has grown up, and I think of us as equal partners in my family. The first twenty years of his life were quite irritable for me, though.

3. In a movie of your life, who would play your significant other?

Ooh. I have never thought about it. Eminem would definitely play my Fwad ex-husband...for stature and facial expression, not for muscles or rapping abilities.

 And for the love of my life?  My strong, quiet-natured, soft-sided, southern-accented hero? Hmm. Maybe...Josh Lucas? He nailed that whole strong, southern type in Sweet Home Alabama. He doesn't really have the same stature, but he has that same crinkly smile and those blue eyes.

Yes, he could pull it off.

4. What is currently your favorite song?
"Jar of Hearts" by Christina Perri and "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry  Odd coincidence on names :)

5. Are you saving your money for anything right now? Big or small purchase?
At the moment I am in the midst of a financial crisis, being left with a house I do not occupy.  So right now I am simply in survival mode.  Before the madness, though, I was saving for Christmas, and for the possibility of a small vacation.  I just recently bought Chloe an entire new bedroom, though, so I was at the beginning of the saving phase.


And now for your regularly scheduled blog...

"Saved by the Blog"

I've been working pretty hard the past few weeks at getting my shape back.  I have settled into a home and a routine, and I have let a few pounds sneak up on me.  I've been spending a lot of time walking/jogging, and doing routines on my Wii Fit.  I've been counting calories and watching how I eat (aka "good for me" breakfast, giving up grilled cheese with Ellen every day and not snacking AT ALL except during Big Brother..oh and mother-licking "portion control" *eye roll*).  I have been doing well at burning more than I consume, which is hard, but was worth it when I had lost three pounds.

When I weighed today, I had gained 1.3lbs.  I was devastated.  I was pissed.  As long as things were staying the same or going down, I was motivated.  But that first setback, that first failure, after knowing I did all the right things, it was hard.  I decided to quit.  I decided I would just forget the whole thing.  It's too hard anyway.

So I grabbed a bag of Puppy Chow from the fridge, since I have been avoiding trying to avoid it all week.  I plopped down on my bed and got online.  Facebook, Hotmail, all that jazz.  Then I logged in to read my blogs.  I follow Chibi Jeebs & the Neurotic Struggle, and she had a new post, "By The Numbers."  It was basically her discussing how she felt like her exercise and diet routine hadn't changed her appearance, but how she listened to people who motivated her and got her sorry butt up and did her workout.

*Sheepish expression*

Wow.  Did I feel like a jerk.  Sitting here feeling sorry for myself.  Instead of working HARDER like I should, or instead of attributing it to possible water weight, hormones, or any of the other ungoldy things we women go through, I just said forget it.  Without knowing it, this girl put me right in my place.

So now that I have finished my blogs, I am going to get my walking shoes on and go do my workout.  Twice maybe, for the Puppy Chow.  Thank goodness for Chibi Jeebs today.  My wellness plan was saved by the blog ;)

Friends in Orbit

As I get older, I find myself looking more deeply into the relationships I carry through life. There are those friendships that withstand the fire because they have such a strong history. There are those that are intense, but don't stand the test of time. There are those that simply aren't worth it in the end. There are those that never change. I could go on and on about the types of friendships and their importance in my life, but what I find most intriguing at this point in time are the relationships I like to refer to as "friends in orbit."

These are the people who aren't a day-to-day constant in your life, but when you look at the big picture of your life, they were always present. In my life, they aren't really close friends. They aren't people I often see or even speak to in person, but they are there, waxing and waning through my life cycle.

Sometimes they are closer than normal, and we have constant interaction. Sometimes they are at the farthest point of their "orbit," and I don't think of them or speak to them for months at a time. Sometimes we encounter obstacles, and some of the obstacles we've endured are ones that closer friendships wouldn't survive. Maybe distance is what allows for that.

Either way, I find it interesting how these certain "orbital" friends, though we don't always get along, and we don't necessarily have a closeness worth fighting for, always find their way back around the sun and into the shadows of my life. I'm thankful for them. For whatever reason, they are supposed to be here in these seasons. When my life's last chapter is written, these minor characters from daily life may just turn out to be pivotal in the grand scheme.

A Force

What do you believe in? The only belief I don't respect is "nothing." You have to be an idiot not to recognize some kind of force that is greater than we are. God? Karma? Fate? Destiny? Luck? I have witnessed, as I am sure you have, too many coincidences to believe that the mathematic odds are THAT beatable.

One such occurrence happened to me yesterday.

I had a good day at work. I don't really keep track of my tips, but I knew I was somewhere in the sixties. I knew I still had to "tip-out" (give the hosties part of my money), but I figured I'd be in the fifties, which isn't bad for three and a half hours of work.

I counted all my money out, put my cash sales in one pile, my tip-out in the other, and filled out my paperwork. When I came to my pile, what was left after all the requirements were paid, I had seventeen dollars. Seventeen. I didn't do that horrible on my very first day. I counted and re-counted. Something didn't add up.

My check-out slip showed that I had made 38.00 on credit cards alone, and I knew I had at least 15 in cash. How did this happen? I finally decided I must have dropped some cash somewhere, or left it lying on the register and it was swiped. I was heart-broken. I was also worried I would be in 'trouble' for claiming less money than the computer showed I made.

I went into the office in tears. Evan counted and re-counted, and finally gave me 20.00 from a petty cash fund for such circumstances. I am never short, I always make good money, and everything always balances, so he knew something had to have happened.

I was still upset, but Mom was bringing Chloe, and Bryan was on his way. We were going to celebrate Mom's birthday with dinner. Hunter took us to a booth in Tim's section, and we had a great dinner. While we were eating, Tim took the check to the table behind us. He opened the book, and I heard him say, "Woah, look what I found in that book!" to the couple. My heart nearly stopped.

When he came by our table I asked him what he'd found. He held up a twenty. Tears filled my eyes. "That's my money," I said, explaining what had happened. He handed it to me with a smile. I gave him five for finding it/believing me/not pocketing it/participating in my little miracle. I told Evan and returned the petty cash he'd given me. I still think there was another 10 or 20 somewhere that someone may have picked up, but I was satisfied knowing what had happened.

What are the mathematical chances or odds of that happening? For that to happen, we had to eat there that day, which we rarely do. We had to sit behind that certain table, Tim had to find that certain book, because Lord knows some of the other people there would have quietly put it in their pocket. I don't think it was coincidence. It was powerful, and I'm glad I was part of it :)

It's Never Over...

I was driving down the highway the other day when "Let Her Cry" by Hootie and the Blowfish came on. (Nevermind there are no longer blowfish, and that "Hootie" is now a boot-wearing country crooner). I was immediately taken back to eighth grade. I could list all kinds of memories it evoked that would be meaningless to most (like basketball season, the purple trampoline we used to have, sleepovers with Lindsey, notes from Sara, dances, and crushes on boys I won't admit), but the main thing that came to my mind was the last day of eighth grade.

I came to school that day with my 35mm camera in tow. I wore a plaid, sleeveless, button-up shirt and my hair was permed (with poofy bangs, of course). I was ready to make the day memorable. It was, after all, my last day of eighth grade. The last day of junior-high. We were MOVING to the high school (which, if you don't know, is separated by nothing more than a double-door between the hallways). Beyond those double doors was a world I'd never known. I was going to be a freshman. Scum on a senior's shoe. It was the END of LIFE as I knew it!

I took all 24 pictures that day. I made sure to get shots of boys I would miss seeing over the summer, and made sure to get pictures of myself with all my friends. Because I might never see them again? I'm not sure what my forethought was, but I know it felt like the end of something huge.

Fast forward to August. New perm, new jeans, and poofier bangs. I was ready to go. I went into school early and pasted those cherished eighth grade pictures to my locker. As the halls filled up, though, I realized my entire eighth grade class was crammed into a few lockers in one hallway. The boys I had pictures of in my locker occupied the locker RIGHT NEXT TO MINE. I was suddenly better acquainted with them than I ever imagined to be. I let a couple of friendships go as we changed and grew, but more than anything I realized that day in late May hadn't been the end. We were all in it together. It was different, but it wasn't the end.

Fast forward again to May 1999. How many times we said, "THIS IS OUR LAST _________ (dance, prom, football game, pep assembly, Christmas break, snow day, Monday, Friday, day) of high school EVER!!!!" If you thought my eighth grade picture mania was bad, you should see the stack of pictures from my senior year. We tried to capture every second, every memory, and we forced some just to say we did. We thought we'd live by that year for the rest of our lives.

When graduation night came, I remember sitting quietly trying to FORCE tears, because I wasn't feeling anything, and all the laws of society and Dawson's Creek said this was the biggest day OF MY LIFE. It felt like any other long, boring school assembly to me.

After graduation we took pictures, we whined and cried to each other how much we'd miss each other, how nothing would ever be the same, and how we'd NEVER forget this year.

The next day I hung out with Lindsey as usual. I still talked to my friends on the phone, and went out on weekends. I saw classmates at Wal-Mart and Newman's, and really nothing changed. We stopped being forced to see each other daily at school, and had the luxury of choosing our friends. We moved on, we changed, we grew, but we kept going. All of us.

Now we are probably more connected than ever. I know more about what goes on in Christina Harder's and Jannie Williamson's daily lives than I ever did in high school. Facebook and e-mail have given us the choice to keep the ties we had in those formidable years.

In the end, it was never really the end. It's never over. We just have to learn how to let go of each phase of our lives and grow into the next. And whether they like it or not, the ones who matter will be along for the ride.

Dinner for Three?

Last Friday night Bryan and I ventured to Sedalia for some delicious barbecue (ok mostly for a fried portabella mushroom) at Kehde's. It was fairly busy, but not overwhelmingly so.

"Two of you?" the lady asked as we came in the door.

"Yes," I replied. She led us across the floor to a booth in the back. We scooted into the seat, then ordered drinks and the famous mushroom. We began talking idly about nothing in particular. Then I heard it.

"And OH MY GOSH! OH OH LOOK! HERE'S ONE OF ME AND JOE!!! Check this OUT!" I couldn't help but look toward the person seemingly YELLING across his table, letting his words hit the wall beside me and fall on my table. His friend sat quietly beside him as he shoved his camera in each person's face.

He was a lanky gentleman, probably in his early thirties. He wore pressed kakhi shorts, a fitted button-up shirt over a (even MORE fitted) t-shirt with neck, ear, and finger jewelry. His hair was perfectly styled. His lips were large, his voice was high, and he had a listhp ;) I can't say for sure, but I'm really convinced he was a drama major at some time in his life.

I averted my eyes immediately, assuming he had become carried away in his excitement. Immediately I realized I was wrong.

"OK! I'm having the pickles, Joe do you like the pickles?" (insert smirk here) He continued to yell his preferences (about the food, of course) across the room. I started to become irritated, because it was difficult to even carry on a conversation.

FINALLY his "pickles" arrived. Surely food would shut him up. He did quiet down for a few seconds. Ahhh a break. The dull roar of normal diners. The clank of dishes in the kitchen. It sounded almost like silence.

I looked up from my plate to see if he had left, or if he was just politely chewing his food without talking. His concentration was deep as he dipped his pickle. He stuck his tongue out a good four inches to catch it, then confirmed what I already suspected.

"OH MY GOSH I LOVE THESE THINGTHS."

Yep. Food-talker. ;)

WOW that was surprising

It was a lovely friday afternoon when I found myself looking at the direct sunlight. It was so bright on my eyes I couldnt see anything. I'll never do that again... EVER!!!

What are you doing here?

It was a typical Saturday night. Chloe was gone to her dad's house, and I was just starting my evening shift at Applebees. I walked toward the table, and immediately recognized the women sitting there. They aren't what I'd call gossips, but they are women...

Anyway, I smiled and greeted them, when one of them interrupted me and said, "Oh my God, what are you doing here?" She had that "ew" look on her face. I wasn't sure if she missed my nametag, or my apron, or the fact that I'd offered to get her something to drink. I fought my sarcasm, though, I did.

"I work weekends over here," I politely replied.

"Oh," she said, relieved. "So you're still teaching."

"No. Right now I'm staying home with Chloe."

"Oh," the "ew" tone was back.

I love teaching. I enjoy being submersed in language and literature on a daily basis. I love the feeling of half-days and long breaks. What I don't like, however, is the constant drama. There are cliques and double standards. The adult drama is often more intense than any of the teenage drama you hear about in the hallways.

I have enjoyed hearing the stories of how I'm this renegade evading the law, or how I was fired from three jobs, or how my license was revoked. However, my exit is just not that glamorous. I was never asked to leave a teaching position, except that one year with Jowell, but the board over-ruled that. I still hold a valid Missouri teaching license, which I will soon need to renew.

The truth is, there came a point where I couldn't take anymore. I needed a break. So I took one. I may go back to teaching in a year, I may go back in five, I may never go back.

For now, I enjoy staying home with Chloe. We spend lazy days in the pool, we run errands together, we watch t.v. together, we play together. We argue and fuss sometimes, and every morning we snuggle in bed together.

On the weekends I work three shifts at Applebees where I average 13 to 17 dollars an hour and take home cash money every weekend. I love my job. I clock out, and other than the occasional Apple-night-mare, work stays at work. Now and then I have a grouchy guest or I drop something, but for the most part I go hang out, do my job, and go home. The people there are enjoyable (mostly), and other than the occasional idiot, the staff is great. I'm stress-free, I have some money, and I'm spending time with my little mini-me.

That lady can feel sorry for me if she wants to, and she can wrinkle her nose at the sight of me with an apron full of straws rather than a red pen and loafers, but for me, for now, this is the good life.

Murphy's Andrea's Law

Many times I've referred to Murphy's Law as my own. I discussed my curse of being "left off the list" among other awkward mishaps. I've decided from now on, the law will be referred to as Andrea's Law. If you're unfamiliar with Murphy's Law because you've been living under a rock your whole life, or think it's something Mr. See forgot to teach you, Google it.

Anyway. Wednesday was a prime example of Murphy's, er ah, Andrea's Law. I was reclining on the couch watching Grey's Anatomy re-runs and sipping sweet tea when my phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number, but curiosity got me and I answered it.

"Hey Andrea?" The voice was familiar, but I couldn't place it for the life of me.
"Yeah," I said, my heart pounding for some reason.
"Hey this is Matt from work," all the pieces of the puzzle fit and I was no longer dazed or confused.
"Hey," (Not much of a phone-talker as we know)
"Hey I saw you were wanting someone to work for you Sunday..."
"Um, yeah, that was last week, but..."
"Oh, ok. Well I was really needing someone to work for me tonight at 5."
I told Jodi I owed her one when I didn't work July 4th so I could go out of town with the family. I figured it was collection time.
"Ok, let me see what I can do about Chloe and I'll get back to you here in a little bit," Click. I'm not much for goodbyes either :)

So I left a message with Bryan and got the further details via text. In exchange for working Wednesday, Matt would work my Sunday morning. SCORE. I do only work two days a week, but those two days are Bryan's days off. Those are the days Chloe is usually gone, and those are the days we can stay out late and do what we want, but usually don't because I have to work.

Anyway. Matt also informed me that he worked at 5:15 and was the fourth of four servers (which meant an early release and little clean-up duties). I finally found out that Bryan was able to watch her for a couple hours so I could fill in. He, too, was excited that we'd have Sunday all to ourselves.

Upon my arrival to work, however, I realized I forgot to calculate My Law into the equation. You see, Matt didn't know the evening was already short-staffed. I was the third of three servers, and didn't get home until 10:30. Oh, and Matt works a double on Sunday, he is off on MONDAY, therefore I am STILL working Sunday morning. I guess that is what I get for working for a selfish reason. Gah. The Law.

Speaking of shift-switching, and not so much My Law, after allllll that, I got another strange phone call yesterday. When I checked my voicemail, it was Barguy. Barguy had a serving shift at 5 (this occurred at 3:30 b.t.w.) he needed someone to cover. He had some lame excuse about needing to pay his rent, and was DESPERATE!

I called him back and said I'd have to check on a sitter. I filed my nails, then called him back to let him know, DARN, I didn't find anyone. He was hateful, and tried to make it MY fault he hadn't paid his bills. I'm not much of a sympathizer though.

You see, this is the same barguy who was off last Sunday. The one who wouldn't switch shifts with me because he'd "really rather not work Sunday morning." This is the barguy who is a complete JERK 90% of the time that I'm not ignoring him. And this is THE barguy who wanted me to go out of my way to work for him, and STILL wasn't willing to trade a shift as a make-up.

In the end, I came out 60.00 richer, and barguy got a taste of his own medicine, so maybe My Law isn't always in force...

Stuck

I'm stuck.  I want to blog, but I'm stuck.  I don't have that little spark.  I just felt compelled to tell you.  Because I know you stopped by to see if I had written anything new, and I haven't.  I pull up this blank box every day, but I never publish anything, because nothing comes out right.  So.  I'm still here, I'm just stuck.  I'll be back when I get un-stuck I suppose :)

Before I Was a Mom...

Before I was a mom, I slept late every weekend.  Now, even four years later, the slightest cry from the other room sends adrenaline coursing through my veins, and hurtles my body out of bed and into her room before I am even conscious.

Before I was a mom, I thought back-talk was unacceptable and knew I wouldn't tolerate it.  Now I stifle my laugh when my four year old puts her hand on her hip and tells me how it is.  And no matter how angry I am, those big brown eyes and that sweet "am I in trouble?" voice melt me every time.

Before I was a mom little noises distracted me.  Now I can tune out even the loudest toy or tapping.  I can ignore the "Mom, Mom, Mommy, Mom, Mama, MOM!"

Before I was a mom I had a tight tummy and smooth skin.  Now my body is unmistakably "mom," but I have a little girl who tells me every day how pretty I am, and who wants to be just like me.

Before I was a mom, my day-to-day choices didn't really affect anyone.  Now I weigh and measure every decision based on how it might or might not affect her life.

Before I was a mom, I ate what I wanted when I wanted.  Now I willingly hand over the last bite, the bigger piece, or the only candy bar.

Before I was a mom I didn't notice how inappropriate some tv shows and commercials were.  Now I find myself changing channels often.

Before I was a mom, I wasn't a germ-o-phobe.  Now, in a public bathroom, I wonder what the other people think as they hear me saying, "Wait, let me cover the seat.  Don't touch anything, put your hands on your head so you don't touch anything.  I'll wipe you just don't touch anything."

Before I was a mom, I felt like a complete person.  Now I know how incomplete I was.

Do I Have Athletic Shorts Clean?

In order to get back in my groove, I decided to read through my old blogs. I remember "Do I Have Wrinkle-Free Pants Clean?" being highly controversial. I am here now to say I have been on BOTH sides of that fence, and here is my Bizzaro-Blog to it!

I've always wanted to stay home with Chloe. From the minute she was born I wished there could come a day I didn't have to get up and leave her. I enjoyed my summers, holiday breaks, and weekends at home, but I always wished I could stay home. I envied my friends, and became irritated when they complained about their mundane stay-at-home lives.

Well, ladies and gentelmen, the tables have finally turned. So to be fair, I shall brief you on a typical day in my shoes.

7:51 - Alarm goes off. Bryan tells me goodbye and leaves. I mumble something back.
8:15 - "Good Morning, Mama. Rise and Shine sleepy head!" Chloe gives me kisses and climbs in bed with me. We snuggle and usually both go back to sleep.
9:00 - "Mom what's for breftkist?" I fix her a pop tart, toast, or whatever she decides she wants.
9:30 - I shower and throw on a t-shirt and athletic shorts. Then gather laundry, flip on Noggin for her while she eats, and gather dishes. Start a load of laundry and pick up clutter.
10:50 - Time to start lunch. Grilled cheese, chips and tea. I LOVE IT!
11:00 - Lunch and Ellen. Every day.
12:00 - Switch laundry, do dishes, lay out supper. Take Chloe out to play/swim/etc.
3:00 - Chloe wants to come in. Switch laundry, maybe sweep, watch tv, she has had enough of me for now and plays in her room with her door closed and All the Single Ladies blaring.
5:00 - Bryan's home. He thinks we should go to the lake for a while. Yay.
5:30 - Swim swim swim
6:30 - Load our stuff, drive home.
7:00 - I cook dinner, Chloe plays, Bryan watches tv.
7:30 - DINNER! Eat, clean up.
8:00 - Chloe you need to take a bath. "Can I play in my sand a little?" It's summer. What the heck.
8:30 - Chloe bath, we visit.
8:50 - MOOOOOOOOOM! I'm ready to get OUTTTTTTT!
9:00 - Brush teeth, drink, book, snuggles, bed.
9:15 - We watch tv, catch up on our days, maybe eat a snack.
11:00 - Bed time. Do I have athletic shorts clean? Yes. I washed 3 loads of laundry today :)


I. LOVE. MY. LIFE. Yes I get bored or lonely for an adult sometimes, but it's worth it, and I wouldn't trade it for anything!!!