tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58460633966051709192024-02-19T08:13:30.788-05:00Pistachios PleaseI love to write...mostly true stories from my life. I don't make it up, I just say it how it is. Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.comBlogger70125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-45654262885585970192010-04-17T13:47:00.000-04:002010-04-17T13:47:40.555-04:00The Saga of the Stone(s....)And we all thought i was gonna have that baby early.<br />
<br />
Pshhh!<br />
<br />
Turns out, those were not contractions. No, my friends, those were KIDNEY STONES. 8 mm in diameter and three of them "lodged in my ureter" because they had been there for so long. <br />
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Last July, I had some seriously serious pain in my right side. I was six months pregnant, and after an ultrasound of my kidneys that revealed nothing, i was diagnosed with pre-term labor and put on strict bed rest. 3 months of doing nothing but laying in bed, getting up only to shower and sit on the toilet....and occasionally brush my teeth. What?? it's not like i was going anywhere.<br />
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Bedrest did the trick. The pain went away, and that baby did not come early. Not even after i hiked a mountain 40 weeks pregnant. Nope. She wan't budging. I must have an awesome womb. :) So when Lorelei arrived late, i wondered if maybe i'd rested in my bed a little too much. I mean, not only was she late, but she wouldn't even come out when the contractions were pushing her. The doctor had to go in and take her...via C-section. The great part about a C-section is the delivery. I didn't feel a thing. The not so great part about a C-section is the recovery. I felt something then. OUCH.<br />
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So....four months pass, and i am surprised by the EXACT SAME PAIN i had when i was pregnant. What is this??? I can't be having contractions now!!! I'm not pregnant!! Why is this pain back??? And it was back with a vengeance. It sent me all the way to the ER where, after some tests, the doctor said something to me i'll never forget:<br />
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"You are as full of feces as a human being can be. In fact, the radiologist even made a note of it." <br />
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Great. I'm full of poop. And the radiologist knows too. Before long the whole hospital will be talking about that poop-loaded patient in room 6. Not exactly what i had in mind when i was little and dreaming of being famous.<br />
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So the doc sends me home with a bottle of nasty stuff for me to drink. This "stuff" will cause my bowels to completely empty and i will be pain free. Hah. Only half of that statement was true. The bowels, they did empty (not fun). But guess what happened one month later???<br />
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PAIN. In my right side. What time is it??? 4 am. Maybe i'm just imagining things...maybe if ignore it, it will go away. Riiiiiiiight. An hour later i'm writhing and extremely frustrated with the whole scenario. Seriously??? I'm not having contractions, and there's no way i can be full of poop AGAIN! i had been taking the proper procedures to prevent that, and things were running smoothly (no pun intended).<br />
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I decided to take the meds the doc had prescribed just in case i might have future pains. BAD IDEA. Now, not only was i experiencing intense and unrelenting pain; i was completely nauseated. I felt that i would be tossing my cookies any minute.<br />
<br />
What to do, what to do? I have a husband at work and a baby who will be waking up hungry, and there's no way i can hold her, much less nurse her, in my current condition.<br />
<br />
Call mom. <br />
<br />
Thank God for parents....for wonderful, loving, caring, helpful parents living close by. My mom came up, saw the condition i was in, fed the baby a bottle, and drove the 3 of us to the doctor's office. My dad met us there. From the doctor's office to the ER, to the CT scan, and to the bed where i lay in agony until that blessed nurse finally pumped me full of morphine.<br />
<br />
I had my knees pulled up to my chest and was rocking back and forth in pain, but when that morphine hit me, my whole body relaxed. Finally. No pain. That's all i wanted. Just for someone to make that pain go away before i went crazy. And i was on the verge....of losing it. Ceaseless pain for 7 straight hours makes you want to scream and throw things. But of course, i knew that wouldn't help, and so i didn't. I just cried. A lot.<br />
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And the result of that CT scan? KIDNEY STONES. Not contractions, not poop, but kidney stones. Nasty little bugers. For the record let me just say it, I HAVE BEEN IN LABOR AND I HAVE ENDURED KIDNEY STONES. THE STONES ARE WORSE.<br />
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So from the ER we journeyed to the Urologist, and finally to the hospital where i spent the night hooked to an IV and a morphine drip. Best sleep i've had in a LOOOOONNGG time. The next morning, they briefed me, and then sent me back for surgery. I told my mom and my husband goodbye, and was rolled away for the procedure.<br />
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Having never been put to sleep before, i was a little nervous. However, that sleep now trumps the previously stated sleep as the best sleep of my life. I woke up feeling refreshed, and was immediately offered a Dr. Pepper by the nurse...I could get used to that! I drank TWO of them ( i was thirsty and my throat hurt from that breathing tube someone had carelessly SCRAPED up and down my throat).<br />
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But back to the operating room. I remember laying there (or is it lying?), and telling them about my nerves. The nurse covered me with a warm blanket, and the anesthesiologist told me he was giving me something to help me relax. If by relax he meant "pass out completely and remember nothing," then he sure did his job well. All i remember is holding on to that warm blanket and being moved from my bed to the operating table....and a faint vision of an oxygen mask being placed over me. While i was sleeping peacefully, the doctor went in with a scope and a laser. He blasted those 8 mm pain inflictors and removed them from my body. I'm still amazed that he lasered the stones and only the stones. It's not like he had a large space to work in. Ureters aren't exactly large and roomy. Modern medicine baffles me. In a good way.<br />
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It was about an hour before i was awakened and happily sipping that Dr. Pepper and thinking about all the good sleep i'd gotten since i'd been at the hospital. After making sure i was recovering well, and not acting funny or having any other problems, i was sent home with a plastic cup holding a small sample of one of my stones. The Urologist will send it away to be tested to see if there might be a clue as to what caused the stones in my kidney.<br />
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But if you ask me, i'll tell you i'm 100% sure it was pregnancy induced. I don't believe i was having preterm labor. I had kidney stones. The poop thing...who knows? Maybe i was backed up, but i don't believe poop causes THAT kind of pain. It was the kidney stones, and AT LAST i am free of them. <br />
<br />
Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-43402471093031252752010-03-27T14:07:00.000-04:002010-03-27T14:07:57.511-04:00Bikini: the other bad wordthe first time i wore a two-piece bathing suit was right after my highschool graduation.<br />
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i'm not even sure you could really classify it as a two-piece. the bottom half was boy shorts and the top half was like a tank top (this was before someone coined the term: tankini). they met in the middle so that really not much skin showed at all. in fact, it was probably more modest than most one-pieces. it was bright blue with a snake skin pattern, and i was so proud of that bathing suit. <br />
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FINALLY, i didn't have to wear a boring, old and motherly looking, embarrasing one piece. i bought it with my own money, and packed it in my bag going with me to the beach for our senoir class trip. i could not wait to wear that bathing suit. for me, that was more exciting than turning 18 and being able to vote...or getting my driver's license (which i also did not do until i was 18). <br />
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emphasis on BIG DEAL here.<br />
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my whole life, i'd gone to schools, and camps, and pools in friends back yards with a mandate stating THOU SHALT NOT WEAR A TWO-PIECE BATHING SUIT! i mean, if you were caught wearing one of THOSE at some of these places, you would immediately be sent home to change while everyone else discussed the earth-shattering effects of your bad judgement and the seriousness of your relationship with Christ...and possibly held an emergency prayer meeting pleading with God to forgive your Sinful Swimwear Selection (and yet somehow i ended up in an organization in college with the same mandate about the B-word. did that stop me from wearing mine a little further down the beach from everyone else? no it did not.).<br />
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back to my story. i'm pretty sure i dreamed about wearing my brand new BIKINI (which wasn't even close to the real thing) several nights in a row before actually leaving for the beach trip. when we finally rolled up to the beach house we were staying at and got everything settled, what do you think i did? if your answer is that i immediately put on my two-piece and proudly strolled down the walkway to the beach where i sat my two-piece clad self on my towel in the sand triumphantly, you would be correct. did the earth spin off of its axis for a split second? <br />
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no. <br />
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nothing happened...except that a tiny portion of my lilly white belly just may have peeked out and said hello to the sun for the first time in it's life. followed by an earthquake off the coast of California. and now i'm living in a halfway house and eating at soup kitchens.<br />
<br />
Kidding.<br />
<br />
oh glorious day! i wasn't asking for much. just a chance to decide for myself what kind of swimwear i'd be sporting all summer long. and wouldn't you know it? that very night i met a boy and talked to him. i give all the credit to my two-piece. everyone knows wearing two-pieces leads to other "no-no's" like talking to boys...and EATING ICECREAM WITH THEM. gasp! i think there was even a go-cart involved.<br />
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needless to say, it was a harmlessly fun trip (even though one classmate made a point to drive herself to my house a few days after the trip and tell me what she thought of my two-piece and that i should fall on my face before the Lord and repent. ok, yes, i'm exaggerating a bit here, but to her, that bathing suit meant i was heading down the path of destruction) and i was pretty pleased with myself for daring to try new things, ie bathing suits and talking to boys (is that a correct use of ie? i'm not even sure i really know what that means.). and, in case you're wondering, i do not fault my parents for my previous lack of swimwear selection. did they want their daughter to look classy and not trashy? of course, but even my dad the pastor and my mom the (not really one good title to insert here...what would you call yourself, mom?) "minister/counselor to women in need" didn't ground me for life when i started wearing two-pieces. in fact, i'm almost positve they purchased my next one, which was BRIGHT ORANGE. not a good look with blindingly white skin....sigh.<br />
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and now? well, as soon i post this i'm off to purchase Lorelei her very first bikini with a buttload of ruffles on the bottom!! actually, i don't care how many pieces there are to her swimsuit. i just want something completely adorable with the previously mentioned buttload of ruffles. this is the only time it is ok for a swimsuit to make your butt look bigger, and all those ruffles will most certainly do the trick!<br />
<br />
and just to set my old classmate's mind at ease: i have turned from my wicked ways. this summer i will be in a one-piece. you can stop praying for me.<br />
<br />
until next summer...or until you discover that i tune in and enjoy watching The Ellen Show.Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-10925030954288647032010-03-17T19:26:00.004-04:002010-03-24T19:55:10.712-04:00stick that on your bumper!It never fails.<br />
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Every time i get in the car and go somewhere, there's always a minivan (ok, it's not always a minivan, but 9 times out of 10 IT'S A MINIVAN) boldly displaying a bumper sticker broadcasting to the world how proud the driver of that minivan is of their child's brainpower. <br />
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For example: "Proud Parent of a Little River Elementary School Honor Role Student," "Proud Parent of an Accelerated Reader, " "Proud Parent of Albert Einstein."<br />
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Ok, so i haven't actually seen that last one, but the bumper sticker may as well say it. I mean, your kid gets a few "A"s on their report card, and BAM! Look out bumper, you're about to get stuck!!<br />
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Not that i'm downing being smart and making good grades. That's wonderful. I sincerely hope my daughter grows up to be an Honor Roll Student, Accelerated Reader, and all that other good stuff parents hope their kids will do. If she makes some "B"s, no problem. "B" does not stand for "bad grade." If she comes home with a "C" on her report card, well, i'll probably be a little disappointed, but it's not like her mother never made a "C" on her report card. A little subject called Math that turned into a more complicated subject called Algebra and went on to become an impossible subject called Physics was not my best friend. <br />
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But, i have NO PLANS to EVER slap a bumper sticker on my Swagger Wagon that loudly proclaims the brainpower of my child. Just not my thing. <br />
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HOWEVER....let's say the kid comes home from school one day with a note from the Principal saying something like:<br />
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Ms. Losier,<br />
It has come to our attention that your daughter, a 5th grader at Such N Such Elementary School, is responsible for the food fight that disrupted our normally event-free lunch hour. As a result she will be serving a Double Detention in which she must scrub the bathroom floor baseboards with nothing but a toothbrush. Thank you for understanding.<br />
Principal So N So<br />
<br />
First of all, no child of mine will ever be made to scrub any public bathroom baseboards as a form of punishment. If that's an issue, we'll promptly find a new school. <br />
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Second things second, since i've had my own fair share of Double Detentions (mostly for dress code violations or standing up on the bus or, let's say, being "disrespectful" to the Principal's grandson who was my substitute Spanish Teacher and all of two years older than me...normal things you would expect to receive a Double Detention for), how upset can i really be at my own child receiving a Double Detention??<br />
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Thirdly, HOW AWESOME WOULD THAT BUMPER STICKER BE??? Smack dab in the center of the ol' Swagger Wagon, this is what it would say:<br />
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"Proud Parent of the Kid Who Started the Food Fight at Such N Such Elementary School"<br />
<br />
<br />
Your kid may be a brainiac, but MY KID throws a hamburger like Drew Brees throws a football.Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-42438197816309194092010-03-12T20:15:00.002-05:002010-03-12T20:36:33.743-05:00Who are you again?So a little time has passed since my last blog. Just a little. A smidgen. You probably didn't even notice i was missing. I stepped out, and then i got distracted, and then i found a rabbit trail and decided to hop down it. One thing led to another, and before i knew what was happening, my short vacation turned into a really long holiday. But there was room service, and turn-down service, and a sauna, and chocolates on my pillow, and i mean, come on....can you blame me??? there was chocolate. ON MY PILLOW. Waiting for me to eat it. And nap. But...here i am. Back to reality, and back to my blog :)<br /><br />Honestly, i have no clue where to begin. So much has happened.<br /><br />I met someone. <br />We got married.<br />We got pregnant. <br />He found a new job. <br />I lost my job. <br />We had a wedding. <br />We had our baby. <br />I found a new job.<br />We moved 5 zillion times (slight exaggeration). <br /><br />That's putting the long story reealllllly short (like having hair down to your butt, and then going for a buzz-cut). All of these things deserve their own spot in this blog. Something i plan on getting to...when that rabbit trail quits calling my name.<br /><br />That being said, you can quit holding your breath. I have, indeed, decided to start writing again.Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-89919601270092775972009-09-21T13:29:00.002-04:002009-09-21T14:02:56.974-04:00Here's a thought...My school finally started a sports program when i was in middle school, 8th grade to be exact. We we were told to vote on school colors for the teams, and we did. I'm sure we all thought the colors we ended up with were the colors we voted on, but i had a revelation the other day. <br />The colors - powder blue, white, and silver - were all in our Principals <em>Color-Me-Beautiful</em> color pallet. There's no way she would have been caught dead in a brown, cream, and gold sweatshirt bearing the school's name. Her color season was Winter, and Winters would never wear those colors. Talk about looking faded and washed out. Horror of all horrors!<br />Anybody go through that ridiculous fashion trend? The good ol color swatch sampler...it was bright yellow and just the right size for a ladies purse. When you opened it up and unfolded it, all the color swatches were displayed, and it looked like a paint or carpet sampler. The company actually had women who were paid to throw bolts of colored fabric over you so that only your face showed, and then depending on whether the color made your eyes "pop" or your skin look "faded" you were told whether or not you should wear that color. Very scientific.<br />You could be labeled as one of four seasons: Winter, Spring, Autumn, or Summer. Each of those seasons had sub-categories. I believe i was a Soft Autumn. What did this mean? I have no clue, except that under no circumstances whatsoever was i ever to wear Black, White, Silver, or Fuchsia. These were bad colors for me. They would wash me out and make me look like a sick and dying cat. Fabulous. Instead of white, i wore off-white. Instead of black, i wore brown. Gold jewelry only. If i wore red, it had to be orange-red, not purple-red. I can remember shopping with my mom or other ladies from the school and spending 15 minutes with a shirt and a color swatch trying to determine if it was in their accepted range of color. Sheesh!! Who cares if it's a kelly green or a hunter green?! Do you like it? Do you feel good in it? Does it match the pants in your hand? Does it go with your favorite lipstick? Then get it!! Tell <em>Color-Me-Beautiful</em> to get over it!<br />So of course, as soon as i went off to college, i started wearing lots of black, white and pink things, and only silver jewelry. And i looked pretty dern good in all of it, if i do say so myself. No one forced me to follow the color pallet rule while in middle and high school, and my mom really didn't care at all. But it was highly annoying to go to school in something you really liked only to be told by someone who thought that pantyhose, pumps and patriotic scarves were fashionable, "hmmm, i'm not so sure that's a good color for you." <br />And now? Now i thank God every day that there are other stores besides JCPenny and Sears where i can freely shop and choose things that <em>Color-Me-Beautiful</em> would have no clue what to do with, haha! <br />Ok, so that's a slight exaggeration. But, i do think i'll go see if i can find my mom's old book of color swatches...the fireplace needs some starter materials for the winter. :)Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-10028801011321944012009-04-27T13:31:00.002-04:002009-04-27T14:17:39.786-04:00flying minus the trapezeWhen my brother and i were little, we had the world's most fabulous tire swing. The tire was HUGE, and the tree we hung it from was ginormous. Some <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Bethel</span> Guys (guys my dad worked with) helped us hang the swing by throwing a brick tied to a rope over the lowest branch of the tree (which wasn't very low). The tree was actually more in the woods than in our yard, and my dad used his machete to clear out all the weeds and bushes and poison ivy, etc. that was in the way of a clear swinging path. <br />I spent many a blissful afternoon on that swing, my brother and i singing songs at the top of our lungs: "On top of old <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">SMOKEYYYYYYYY</span>!!!" But, we had the most fun when my dad would come out with us and push us. He could push that swing so high, we could see over the roof of our house. I remember holding on tightly and straining my neck to look until we finally reached the ultimate <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">height</span>, and i could see the cows in the pasture on the other side of our house. <br /><br />I think i was 2 the day i fell off the swing.<br /><br />I was never scared of heights as a kid. In fact, i was the only one in my family who would ride roller coasters at theme parks for quite a while. My mom would find a nice looking family and ask if i could ride with them, while she, my dad, and my brother would stand below the ride and watch me fly by, upside down and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">loopty</span>-looping. All that to say, at 2, i was not scared to be pushed as high as the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">roof line</span> of our house while swinging on the tire swing.<br /><br />So there we were, my brother and i. My dad was pushing away. I'm sure we were laughing, and possibly singing, and straining to see who could look over the roof of the house first. One minute, i was flying through the air as high as i could go on that big, black, rubber tire, and the next minute i continued flying through the air, but without the tire. Just me and the breeze and the long fall to the ground below. I still remember it. I didn't have time to realize what had happened until it was over. Somehow, i lost my grip on the tire's ropes, and i slipped off mid-swing. The amazing part is, instead of hitting the ground, i hit the safety of my dad's arms. He caught me! It all happened so fast, but no one was hurt, and it was more like being tossed into my dad's arms rather than falling off the swing.<br /><br />I spent many years after that loving and enjoying that tire swing, but <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">every time</span> i got on, i always thought about the time i almost fell to the ground but didn't...Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-83923621616683485422009-04-16T21:54:00.002-04:002009-04-16T22:00:04.386-04:00Zzzzap!So, i'm convinced being pregnant has zapped all the creativity from my body. I sit and stare at the screen trying to write, but no words come out. All i can think about is how badly i want some watermelon, and how much i regret eating that many chips and salsa at lunch. Talk about heartburn. <br />The good news is, i'm still smart! Over Easter, we played some family games, and i won all of them. Feels good to be a winner. Not that i'm saying one should gloat, but when one has a brother who's genius can be compared with that of Einstein and who's mother is equally brilliant...it's nice to occasionally come out on top :)<br /><br />and, i'm out.Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-20255260648364087512009-04-09T14:31:00.002-04:002009-04-09T14:32:02.393-04:00For those of you who didn't knowI married the love of my life Jan. 30th, and we are now expecting a little one Oct.31!!<br /><br />Details coming soon...Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-90528312545737443182009-04-09T13:31:00.002-04:002009-04-09T14:29:27.948-04:00Good QuestionSo today, my kindergarteners found out i'm expecting a baby.<br />They all wanted to know why my stomach isn't big and where i'm keeping the baby until my stomach gets big enough for it. I explained to them that it is very small right now, and i won't have a big stomach until much later in the year. They were still skeptical:<br /><br />Robby: "How do you know you're having a baby Mrs. Losier???"<br /><br />Me: "Well Robby, the doctor told me." <br /><br />:)Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-64254563660729991062009-03-30T15:15:00.002-04:002009-03-30T15:16:37.159-04:00OUCH!That was me.<br />Falling off the blogging bandwagon.<br /><br />Trying to get back up...Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-73413587103262024342009-03-06T14:58:00.003-05:002009-03-06T15:09:41.318-05:00stopped upthis tuesday, one of my kindergarteners was out sick. he came back all healthy and happy on wednesday, and i told him how glad i was to see him in class and feeling better. he then proceeds to explain to me why he was really out, and i tried to keep my jaw from hitting the floor....<br /><br />"i wasn't sick Miss Loss. i didn't throw up or nothin. my private area hurt. i had poop up to my belly button. i drank this stuff and at first nothing came out, but then i pushed really hard and some stuff came out. then lots of liquid came out. then it was an explosion! i had to poop all day! one piece was this long! (holding up his hands to show me exactly how long it was)"<br /><br />needless to say, it took a few minutes to get the class settled down and the music lesson started.Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-41764536822853856082009-02-21T11:44:00.002-05:002009-02-21T11:53:15.169-05:00And now it's time......for another George Strait Sing-A-Long!!!<br /><br />Let me get out my gi-tar, straighten my cowboy hat, shine my belt buckle, throw my boots up on a desk, and start the strummin'! We'll sing every song he ever wrote and then end on a good note with the classic, "i've got spurs that jingle jangle jingle! as i go ridin' merrily along! and they say, 'oh, ain't you glad you're single?' and that song ain't so very far from home! Oh Betty Suuuueeeee! (oh betty sue) Oh Betty Suuuueeee! (oh betty sue) somethin' somethin' somethin' somethin' but that's why i married you!"<br /><br />Should we sing Mary Did You Know now?Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-27107023248420873712009-02-20T14:22:00.002-05:002009-02-20T15:10:54.581-05:00This one time...-in third grade, i got detention for standing up on the bus.<br /><br />-when i was 3, my mom made me stay home with my Nana while my brother celebrated his 5th birthday with all his friends at an awesome clown party.<br /><br />-on the way home from a trip to illinois, i thought the car was on fire, and as soon as my dad pulled the car to a stop, i lept over my grandmother and jumped out the side door, ready to run down the interstate and as far away from the car as possible.<br /><br />-i threw up chicken noodle soup all over the braided rug on the way to the bathroom. it was my birthday, and i didn't get to have a sleepover party, but i did get the Quince i wanted from my parents (quince, quince, five times more fun, i love taking care of each and everyone! (how scary is it that i remember the theme song??)).<br /><br />-my brother's best friend drop-kicked me in the stomach. it hurt.<br /><br />-i had a friend who, when she thought the house we were staying at was being invaded by burglars, grabbed a grapefruit spoon to defend herself with.<br /><br />-i won the Miss CFS pageant. my best friend told jokes as her talent. the year before, another friend of mine chose to do flips with her leg behind her head as her talent. i sang.<br /><br />-i slept on the floor next to my brothers bed all night after i'd dreamed that he had died.<br /><br />-i had to dance with a girl in PE class because i was too short to have a boy partner.<br /><br />-in 8th grade, a boy brought me a gift from his trip to Disney World, and my parents made me give it back.<br /><br />-i won a sewing competition. the award was a free trip to sewing camp. whoop-ti-do. i didn't go.<br /><br />-i wrote a poem for Steve Wojciechowski (former Duke point guard) and mailed it to him.<br /><br />-my best friend and i burried friendship oaths under a rock in her side yard.<br /><br />-my math teacher wore an art smock to class with some victorian style boots.....and orange tights.<br /><br />-my friend and i danced around my basement in my mother's old negligee nightgowns as Hey Jude and Yesterday played over and over again on my keyboard. <br /><br />-for my 16th birthday, we had a huge party in our basement, and i danced with my crush to This I Promise You by NSYNC. <br /><br />-my friend and i wrote the following letter to a boy as a joke, but got in trouble for it: "Deer_______, I hate your stinkin' guts! You make me vomit! You are the scum between my toes!" we took it from a Little Rascals movie and thought it was hilarious, but no one else seemed to. where is your sense of humor people??<br /><br />-in 6th grade i got into a fight with another girl. she grabbed the chalkboard eraser and started hitting me on the head with it. i grabbed a piece of chalk and tried to write on her. my attempts were futile. she accomplished much with her eraser...i accomplished nothing with my wimpy piece of chalk.<br /><br />-a different math teacher drew for us, on the board, the bruise that she had acquired on her backside. thanks for that.<br /><br />-i watched meteor showers in below freezing temperatures while i had an abscessed tooth.<br /><br />-i got a tan. no wait. that never happened.Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-52834660265831049282009-02-16T14:30:00.001-05:002009-02-16T14:31:49.835-05:00and then some daysit's hard to differentiate between my K5 class and my middle school class...if only you could hear the sound effects 6th-8th grade boys like to make.Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-53120986154710089602009-02-13T15:30:00.003-05:002009-02-13T15:32:33.084-05:00pretty please, can i have one??This is what i want for my birthday.<br />In fact, I spent many a childhood birthday asking for one of these, and never did i get my birthday wish.<br />Sad....<br /><br /><br /><embed pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" src="http://www.metacafe.com/fplayer/2346868/kingsford_goes_to_the_beach.swf" width="400" height="345" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" allowfullscreen="true"></embed><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><a href="http://www.metacafe.com/watch/2346868/kingsford_goes_to_the_beach/">Kingsford Goes to the Beach</a> - <a href="http://www.metacafe.com/">The most popular videos are here</a></span>Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-63461840029464974882009-02-13T14:38:00.003-05:002009-02-13T15:04:35.146-05:00Sweet Things<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoubJHLAEq2stWz9mmc1FvOA7jQMT0VwwtyQ4vd0xCS4uWblGEIomttobiikWJEb00dB_MAuiPYIebxZ5vFBL6mWc7lVgW6EQLimXM1QWhFF-aaJCMX9s2J-Xy_0Xq-aF2TMu7qkdpm0w/s1600-h/valentine.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302375006316618578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoubJHLAEq2stWz9mmc1FvOA7jQMT0VwwtyQ4vd0xCS4uWblGEIomttobiikWJEb00dB_MAuiPYIebxZ5vFBL6mWc7lVgW6EQLimXM1QWhFF-aaJCMX9s2J-Xy_0Xq-aF2TMu7qkdpm0w/s320/valentine.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>My father has been sending me the best valentine presents since highschool. Every year he remembers to make his only daughter feel special and loved! </div><br /><p>Sometimes he even goes so far as to send valentine gifts to my roommates too so they don't feel left out. </p><p>Pictured is this years valentine :)</p><p>Thanks Dad! I love you!</p>Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-72934858977638581582009-02-12T15:11:00.002-05:002009-02-12T16:00:59.631-05:00Loom loom loom loom loomSo. We sang a lot in middle school and high school. A lot. Even before middle school, honestly. There was much singing. <br /><br />Don't get me wrong. I love music. I love to sing. But, sometimes you are forced to do things that you look back on and wonder what in the world some people were thinking.<br /><br />For example, we used to get paraded around at Christmas time in these Old English Caroler costumes that were absolutely ridiculous looking. The girls had red bonnets that velcroed under the chin with big plaid bows on the side. The boys had black top hats. Everyone wore black pants or a black skirt and these red capes that wrapped around our necks and practically choked us. We would walk around the mall or outside downtown Lenoir and occasionally in a nursing home dressed in these outfits and singing songs with words that i still have no clue as to what some of them mean. Like this one: On December twenty-five sing <em><strong>Fum, Fum, Fum</strong></em>. Fum? Why are we singing fum? Is that even a word? How do i know that it's not Old English for something i shouldn't be saying; especially not to a group of sweet, ederly people? I don't want to sing fum. I feel like a weirdo singing fum. Not to mention the velcro on my felt hat is itching my ching like crazy. <br />How about this one: Lo, how a rose <strong><em>e'er</em></strong> blooming. E'er. E'er? That can't be correct grammar. Exactly what two words make up that contraction anyway? Please enlighten me. I have no clue. And what's with this Lo business?? Was Shakespeare writing Christmas carols? Oh yes, in case the fabulous Caroler costumes didn't tip you off, these were both songs we sang at Christmas time. Whatever happened to Joy to the World? Or Away in a Manger? Those are normal songs with simple English that we all understand and recognize. Sigh.<br />Then there was this whole idea that <strong>EVERYWHERE</strong> we went we had to sing for the people. Our Principal just <em>knew</em> that complete strangers could not die a happy death unless we had sung Mary Did You Know for them in four part harmony, loom-ing our little hearts out. Every historic church we set foot in during field trips, "wait to you hear them sing," she would say. Our tour guides would stand politely by and listen as the lame leaped, the deaf heard, the blind saw, and the dumb spoke for the 5 millionth time that day, "Ohhhhhh, Mary did you know?" Of course, it helped that we had (insert sarcasm here) the most awesome soloist this side of the Mason Dixon line.....<br /><br />.....anyway, if it wasn't Mary Did You Know, it was this African song we had learned about marching in the light of God: <br /><br />(note: i have no clue how to spell in tribal)<br /><br />Siyah Hamba Kukanaynee Kween Kos<br />Siyah Hamba Kukanaynee Kween Kos<br />Nee Kween Kos<br />Hamba<br />Hamba<br />Siyah Hamba<br />Ooooooo-ooooo<br />Hamba<br />Siyah Hamba Kukanaynee Kween Kos!<br /><br />Tell me you wouldn't be thrilled to be reading all about how Benjamin Franklin sat in the same pew his whole life only to be interrupted by a bunch of awkard looking, braces wearing, Christian Tours bag toting highschoolers in skirts with hemlines below the knees or sideburns no lower than the ear lobe, singing an African worship song at the top of their lungs...in four part harmony. It would have been your lucky day! Especially if we gave you an encore with the For Him classic: Future Generations. "Whoa-Oh-Whoa! Whoa-Oh-Whoa!"<br /><br />We had skills.<br /><br />And fashion.<br /><br />Ever heard of a cumberbun? I still have nightmares about those things. Ughh! Just a word of advice here to anyone who'd like to take it: Never force your child, or students, to wear cumberbuns. They are not attractive, they do not look good, and they ARE a fashion no-no. A cumberbun is pretty much a thick, satin belt with pleats in it. They used to be really popular for MEN to wear with tuxedos. Lucky for the girls at my school, we got to wear bright red ones with white pilgrim blouses and long black skirts. And panty hose. Let me tell you, this redheaded, freckled faced, paleskin looked amazing in a bright white shirt and obnoxiously red belt that reached halfway up her stomach. None of this waiting around stuff, we were a fashion disaster that <em>happened.</em><br /><br />Now where is that VHS....i have a sudden urge to see the musical phenomenon that was Mary Did You Know (yes, i have copies...want one? :))<br /><br /><em>Loom, loom, loom, loom, looooooom </em>Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-4621206126813558982009-02-09T14:02:00.004-05:002009-02-09T14:07:12.715-05:00anybody else need a good laugh?i personally think this is hilarious...you are free to agree or disagree...but i can't take credit for it...a friend showed it to me. I've watched it...a lot...and laughed...a lot...since then.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/83JDXXKzOXg&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/83JDXXKzOXg&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-70241804415904279972009-02-06T14:43:00.003-05:002009-02-09T12:11:16.156-05:00and we all went to Mexico, part IIsorry to keep you waiting, folks.<br />i know you've been checking my blog every day for the next chapter in this story.<br /><br />let me just say that this next part made the Mexico Trip one of the best memories i have from highschool (not counting what happened afterwards).<br /><br />The sun had just risen on the morning of the day we were allowed to spend "absorbing Mexican culture" with our host families, and my middle name may as well have been sponge. I was ready for this. We were going to highschool with the daughter of our host family for her homecoming. I could feel the excitement building as we rode down the streets of Mexico on our way to school, the radio blasting a popular Mariachi tune of the time. My heart was pounding right along with the distinctive tuba that was keeping rhythm with the bass line. I remember being awed at the size of the school when we pulled up to it. It was huge. There were students everywhere. It was chaos...definately not what we small, hicktown girls were used to. I loved it instantly. We got out of the car, and Gabi and her cousin started introducing us to their friends. Then it happened. We were surrounded by boys. Boys everywhere. Wanting a picture with us: "foto? foto?" Seriously? Me? You want a picture with me??? WHY? They must not have had many American girls visit that school. Or maybe they were just in awe of how freakishly white my skin was...hah! Either way, it was fun. Cameras were flashing everywhere, and we all had stupid grins plastered across our faces. When the photoshoot finally came to an end, someone handed us pictures of the girl they wanted to win homecoming queen, and we pinned them on our shirts. Then we were lost in a sea of bodies as everyone starting crowding around to watch the candidates make their entrances. It was insane...there were moments when i was convinced we were going to be trampled and killed amidst the chaos. Talk about an adrenaline rush. I don't think they have to adhere to the same fire codes in Mexico that we have to here. After everyone was finally in place, the party began, and what a party it was. We were outside in a courtyard, but there was a screen over the entire area to keep the sun from making it too hot. There was a live band, and there was dancing. Lots and lots of dancing. The girls danced with a long stem rose in their mouths. Guys continued to come up to us and ask us for pictures, and finally, i met one that spoke English. We started talking and hit it off pretty well. His name was Jesus (pronounced hay-sooz), but he didn't go by that name. He went by Chui(like Chewy from Star Wars), because that's so much better than the alternative. Haha! I go to Mexico and meet Jesus but he prefers to be called Chewy. Tell me that isn't funny. He asked me if i wanted to dance, and i got really nervous for a second. The only dancing i'd ever done was ballroom because that's all we were allowed to do at my school. Everything else was totally and completely "inappropriate." I had no clue how to salsa, or rhumba, or cha cha, or do anything remotely similiar to what these highschoolers were doing. But, i'm a quick learner, so i threw caution to the wind and said to myself, "you're never gonna have this opportunity again. Go for it!" I took his hand, and he led me to the dance floor. I'm sure i looked like a total and complete dork for the first few minutes. I had no clue how to dance like him, but he was patient, and i finally caught on. Then it was fun...i didn't want to stop. After chatting it up on the dance floor some more, i learned that he was going to college in Arizona. No wonder his English was so good. I noticed some of my friends had been scooped up by several lucky guys, and they too were learning a totally new world of dance. We were all having a blast. This was the highschool experience we would never have, and we wanted to make it last as long as we could possibly drag it out for in that one, glorious day. We were free to just be without having to worry about someone telling us our shoes were out of dresscode, or that our earrings were too long, or that we had to go home and change because our clothes were inappropriate (meaning we actually looked normal), or that we were receiving double detention for a "bad attitude" (meaning we had looked at someone the wrong way).<br />It ended too soon. You know what they say about having fun...and it's so true...dissapointingly true. Why can't the good times take forever? We had spent a long day with our host family though; longer than anyone else had. I remember feeling kinda smug about the day i had had when we met back up with everyone else that night. The four of us knew no one could possibly top our day of "absorbing Mexican culutre," and we were right. People were jealous...they wouldn't admit it, but they were. You can just tell when someone is mad at you for having more fun than they did. The chaperones even got mad at us. They scolded us for staying out so late, but what did they expect us to do? Just leave Gabi and her cousin, and find our own ride home with some random strangers in Mexico? In a normal world, everything would have been just fine, but our world was not normal. In our world, if anything good happened to anyone who wasn't one of the "chosen few," it always ended badly. Unfortunately, none of the chosen had been with us that day, so there was a little tension in the air. It was like a time bomb waiting to explode. And it did. At dinner.<br />We were sitting around the dinner table, and one of the "chaperones" was telling a story and pretty much bragging about himself and how great he was. He was abusing his authority by making up scenarios about himself and then asking us what we would do in the situation, knowing that none of us had the guts to tell him the truth. None of us, that is, except for Amanda. My dear bff always had a hard time putting up with this certain person's obnoxious behaviour, and that night was no different. After he had just finished making a smart comment about what he would say to a student, and they had laughed uncomfortably at his ill attempt at self-righteous humor, Amanda commented, "i'd tell you to shove it."<br />We all kind of laughed...awkwardly. It was hilarious, but we didn't want to get in trouble. We shouldn't have been worried. He had Amanda in his sights now.<br />The bomb was about to go off.<br />Things were pretty calm for the rest of dinner. Then Amanda got called into the back bedroom with the Principal, her assistant, and the "chaperone" who just happened to be the Principal's son.<br />She was in there for quite some time and when she came out, i knew she was furious. I've known her since we were 5, and i knew this was not going to be good. Somehow we got a ride back to our host family's house, and then the floodgates opened. It wasn't fair. It never was. We knew it wouldn't be, but i think we all kind of hoped that the next time, things would be handled differently. We should have known better than to go against a sure thing. It's like running into a brick wall: you only hurt yourself...the wall never knows you were there. She got out her calling card and called her parents. The tears were flowing, but i think they were angry tears more than anything. How it was right for that man to sit there and say whatever he wanted and not be confronted about it (which he did all the time), and then when one brave student stands up to him she gets punished for having an attitude problem and being in "the wrong place with the Lord" (whatever that means), is beyond me. Was the outcome surprising? No. Was it still as upsetting? Yes.<br />I remember sitting across the room from her as she sat in silence putting one peanut butter ball after another into her mouth and wondering if there would be any left for me. Haha! She was so upset, she ate the whole bag. And i got to help :)<br />We were used to things going the way they did. Didn't make it right, but we were resilient and strong-hearted. That one incident would not spoil the day, or the rest of the trip, for us.Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-72581939035642564962009-02-06T14:32:00.002-05:002009-02-06T14:38:16.578-05:00Happy Discoland!<p>I love this song! I was so pysched when i found it on youtube today!!! It gets good about 30 seconds in, so don't give up on it. </p><p>Totally takes me back to my college days. Red, 2 door, honda civic, the "A Girls", and crazy dance moves as we drove up and down highway 74 blasting this song as loud as it would go.</p><p>Good Times :)</p><p><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mtGNINAAouE&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mtGNINAAouE&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></p>Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-48229267173319605232009-01-20T23:26:00.002-05:002009-01-20T23:52:11.442-05:00on second thoughtthis won't take long, and it's something that's been on my heart lately (sorry, Kara, for the whole more-than-one-a-day thing).<br /><br />i just want to encourage you not to be afraid to ask God for what you want. i'm not talking about naming it and claiming it. i'm talking about the desires of your heart, and the fact that in the Bible it clearly says that the Lord will give you the desires of your heart. you just have to draw close to Him. not because He's giving us a condition, testing our motives, or making a deal with us, BUT because we can't really know the true desires of our heart unless we ARE close to Him. He always wants to bless us, but sometimes we miss the blessing because it's not what we think it should be. i have been learning so much lately about the love of God, and finally believe that He does love me just the way i am. i wasted a lot of time trying to figure out who God wanted me to be, instead of realizing that He just wants me the way i am. He made me like this, and He loves me like this. the more i believe that, the closer i feel to Him, and the more aware i am of the desires He's given me. and if He gave me these desires, then how can i not ask Him for them? And why would He not lovingly and willingly give them to me? it's so simple. just like the gospel (which i also tried to complicate, but that's another story). God doesn't try to trick us and make things hard on us. If it's seems difficult, it's because we make it that way; or at least that's been my experience. <br />i recently asked God for something that i finally got tired of trying to figure out on my own. and i am one stubborn girl...just ask my parents. and you know what happened? He gave it to me. almost immediately. not because i did anything to deserve it. the truth is, i stopped trying to do the right things to get what i wanted and just said "God, have your way. Do what you want. I trust you." not only did He bless me, but He went out of His way (if that's possible for God, hah!) to make sure i knew it was from Him. and believe me, i know...there's no way i could have done this on my own. He gave me more than i ever could have dreamed of asking for. AND he showed me what i really wanted...what i had no clue i wanted until He gave it to me. God's way is so much better. He loves us like crazy, and is just waiting for opportunities to blow us out of the water with His love. He also gave me peace. a very wise woman (thank you Sarah Turner!) once told me that the best way to follow God's plan for your life is to follow the peace in your heart. amazing advice and so true. it's so good to walk in peace and love...which brings about great happiness. maybe the hippies really were on to something....kidding!Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-55747377763560388392009-01-20T23:24:00.003-05:002009-01-20T23:25:41.597-05:00almost doesn't counti was going to blog tonight...but then i decided not to.<br />think i 'll hit the hay a little early.<br />there are many words swirling around in my head, but they aren't quite making sentences just yet....perhaps tomorrowMelodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-76178009612632595542009-01-16T14:31:00.004-05:002009-01-16T15:26:35.753-05:00and we all went to mexico, part 1It was the Spring of 2000. I was a junior in high school. The year before, my school had hosted it's first ever exchange students. There were three of them: Dawei from China, Itsuka from Japan, and Luis from Mexico. Luis promised us when he left that we could all come visit him someday. Well, we made good on that promise, and our little group of high school students was on its way to Mexico for a fieldtrip.<br />I was psyched. A foreign country. I had been to Spain in the 8th grade, but i just had a feeling that Mexico was going to be amazing.<br />My BFF, Amanda Renee (it's french!) Parsons, and I were all set to room together, and she had a whole bag of Reece's Peanut Butter Balls in her ginormously large suitcase. What could be better than that? All the students had been divided up into groups and were staying with different members of Luis' family. His dad was an important government official (anybody remember exactly what his title was?) in their hometown, Hermosilla, and their family was pretty wealthy and had lots of space to host all of us.<br />Amanda and i were sent to stay with one of Luis' aunts and her niece. We were called over to our respective mode of transportation, "Ah-Mahn-dah and Melodeee!" We were on our way to some strangers house in Mexico with no adult supervision. Sweet! And our good friends "Joo-lie and Me-lee-sa" were staying next door. What luck!<br />Talk about a culture shock. We were two very well behaved Christian school girls who never did anything wrong (except for the occasional conference-leading-to-detention due to our bad attitudes towards the principal's grandson when he subbed as our Spanish teacher), and we were not prepared for what happened next. When we arrived at our home for the week, we walked through the courtyard and found a party waiting for us on the other side. <br />"You girls want some Tequila?"<br />I was speechless. I had never been offered an alcoholic beverage in my life, and i definitely wasn't expecting it then. Amanda answered for us,<br />"No thanks. We just had some milk." Milk? Was that the best she could come up with? I think she really did have some milk earlier now that i think about it, but i know i didn't. I hated milk. Anyway, after they laughed at us, they introduced themselves, and then we went inside to get situated.<br />I remember being scared to death that i might accidentally swallow one drop of water while brushing my teeth. I was told NOT TO DRINK THE WATER NO MATTER WHAT. YOU WILL GET SICK. AND DIE. A HORRIBLE DEATH. AFTER LOTS OF SUFFERING. But seriously, that's how i felt after the whole "don't drink the contaminated water" talk. I'm surprised i wasn't dehydrated due to all the spitting i did in Mexico while brushing my teeth. There was lots of spitting. I didn't even want one trace of contamination mixed in with my saliva. And the shower. That was tricky to. I made sure to never put my face in the water. No drops going anywhere near the mouth. I held my breath a lot just to be sure no water went in through my nose.<br />We spent a lot of time in the family room sitting around on the couches and the floor just goofing off. Luis' cousin, Gabi, was so much fun. So was her mom (can't remember her name??). One night, and i'm going to just throw this out there that sometimes high school girls can be unnecessarily silly (hard to believe, i know), we gathered around and translated a very serious song that is near and dear to my heart. It's called, Tirar un moco. If you speak Spanish, you'll know that it means, To Flick a Bugar. Deep, isn't it? I can't believe i'm doing this, but i am now going to share the lyrics with you. If you don't want to be my friend after reading this, then i'll pray for you to receive a sense of humor. Just Kidding :)<br /><br /><em>I picked a bugar from my nose and flicked it on the floor</em><br /><em>I tied it up in knots and then went running out the door</em><br /><em>Tirar un Moco!</em><br /><em>Tirar un Moco! </em><br /><em></em><br />You didn't know i had it in me, did you? I actually can't take full credit for the song. I didn't write most of it, but i still remember it to this day. I won't expose the author unless they would like to expose themselves.<br />Our good friends Michael and Kirt liked to make up songs too. The one i remember from that trip was the classic, Spear Fishing. <br /><br /><em>Spear</em><br /><em>S-P-E-A-R</em><br /><em>Fishing</em><br /><em>F-I-S-H-ING</em><br /><em></em><br />Good music like that is really hard to come by. I feel fortunate to have been a part of the Moco and Spear Fishing movement.<br />One day we were traveling somewhere in a big white van, the place i can no longer remember, but the drive i will never forget. Amanda, Michael, Kirt, and I all sat in the very back seat of the van. We spent that whole drive quoting segments from the John Boy and Billy Show. I didn't listen to the show, but Michael and Kirt knew every episode, and it was hilarious listening to them quote it. The line that sticks out the most in my memory is Michael in a very country voice, "Welcome to Revival at the Sword of Joshua, Pentecostal, Full Gospel, Church of God on Highway Eight on the frontage road!" (i may not have gotten that all right, but it's close!)<br />I also remember the principal eyeing my brand new adidas tennis shoes and mentioning that they were out of dresscode. I didn't realize i was supposed to wear my pilgrim shoes around the streets and hills of Mexico. <br />Then came the day we got to spend with our respective host families doing what they do. We lucked up and went to homecoming with Gabi at her high school.<br />We had no clue what was coming....Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-80060298510110210982009-01-16T14:27:00.003-05:002009-01-16T14:31:03.856-05:00everybody freeze!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNk1NTD-TYR2yf9v6Sx6vvOrL0iURAB5YALDxJ5ngUHjmwVkO3QIszrpGvOSB7THXJhzlMOHJL4hYAOOIEAxvu284P7tJEoflT-38Hydnxouh-PBEYiMj6eLHENLjIHbWwJ7mv6PIDcdc/s1600-h/freeze+dance+3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291976167591396418" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 221px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNk1NTD-TYR2yf9v6Sx6vvOrL0iURAB5YALDxJ5ngUHjmwVkO3QIszrpGvOSB7THXJhzlMOHJL4hYAOOIEAxvu284P7tJEoflT-38Hydnxouh-PBEYiMj6eLHENLjIHbWwJ7mv6PIDcdc/s320/freeze+dance+3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh6Bzf__nMWK_xiEjuJdUAe42Wz5pezlSCXVKPwQ6XL4x7a4hVzNEEtG6O_z09dGgKK5CI9cj-kri06Xk3v9zHJU5MvcRdIjTtbnfjntxXSvxS0FG6GFmna-C-JNMqCeYr12UXfETDV_k/s1600-h/freeze+dance+1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291976164808108626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 221px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh6Bzf__nMWK_xiEjuJdUAe42Wz5pezlSCXVKPwQ6XL4x7a4hVzNEEtG6O_z09dGgKK5CI9cj-kri06Xk3v9zHJU5MvcRdIjTtbnfjntxXSvxS0FG6GFmna-C-JNMqCeYr12UXfETDV_k/s320/freeze+dance+1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKsGx4RqCwwqEw_hyaIYDedQ-Zcp42Y7RvHbYh9Oe2C06rs8hUpl1NwckMSh7zb_yX3j3BjS6jCGbdgtlOm8jDUC9K9C8bkm9FTvay9WnbKsGAX8H0_JBDAwE0bhxx6VDqZ7bkdnH3aOs/s1600-h/freeze+dance+2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291976166198261554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 221px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKsGx4RqCwwqEw_hyaIYDedQ-Zcp42Y7RvHbYh9Oe2C06rs8hUpl1NwckMSh7zb_yX3j3BjS6jCGbdgtlOm8jDUC9K9C8bkm9FTvay9WnbKsGAX8H0_JBDAwE0bhxx6VDqZ7bkdnH3aOs/s320/freeze+dance+2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>I am completely worn out after doing The Cupid Shuffle for 3 classes in a row....but it was lots of fun!</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>These are some photos of my 3rd graders playing freeze dance...look out world, here they come!</div></div></div>Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5846063396605170919.post-87794520773575642292009-01-16T12:21:00.002-05:002009-01-16T12:36:21.265-05:00things that make you say awwwwSo this month in PE we are doing dance. It's my favorite "sport" to teach. We do all kinds of fun line dances like The Electric Slide, The Hustle, and The Boot Scootin' Boogie. I always save a little time at the end of class for the students to play Freeze Dance. It's their favorite. I play the music, they dance around like loons, I stop the music, they freeze. If you don't freeze when the music stops, you're out.<br /><br />Well, this morning, kindergarten was playing freeze dance and having a grand 'ol time at it when i saw the cutest thing ever. One of the little boys, Maverick, went over to one of the little girls, Ava, and started dancing with her like grown-ups do with the whole his-arm-around-her-back and her-arm-on-his-shoulder deal. Every now and then he would spin her. It was precious. And i did not teach them that...they did it all on their own. So i'm watching and smiling and thinking about how adorable the whole situation is, and that this moment can't possibly be any cuter when i hear one of the other little boys, Donovan, make this comment,<br /><br />"I wish i had a girl like that."<br /><br />How stinkin' adorable is that??? The cute factor just went through the roof, folks.Melodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14579603891187578452noreply@blogger.com1