Did You Just Say "Abe Lincoln?"

Out of nowhere, Isaiah announced, "I miss Abe Lincoln."

Daimean curled up next to me on the couch, and decided to hold my foot as if he was holding my hand.

I told Isaiah to stop peeing on the back of the toilet. He laughed maniacally.

Daimean walked into the living, stood in front of the tv, and started to dance. Then, calmly walked away.

Children are strange little creatures.

You know how the saying goes, that time heals all wounds? I've noticed that I miss my father more as time goes by. Not less. Sure, I stopped sobbing every time I think of him (years and years ago, actually) but there are so many things I wish I could tell him. I wish he could see my kids. I wish my kids had the chance to know him. *sigh* So I guess the reminder that the people you love will not always be around prompted me to visit my grandparents. It's awful to see my grandfather so frail. In my mind, he's this big, strong Navy guy. But now he's small and ashen. My grandmother, well, she's still as opinionated as ever, and loud. And kind of rude, too. But we had a very nice visit, chatted about current events, our dogs, etc. Strangely, the kids actually wanted to go with me. Like most kids, mine are creeped out by elderly people. It's odd for me to see my grandmother not know how to talk to my kids. She always made extra effort to relate to me as a kid, and she did a damn good job. But with my boys? I don't know. I don't think she even knows their birthdays. To this day, I don't think she can spell their names, either.

Capital Punishment

Ok, so I explained Belly's sudden desire to draw on furniture. Well, Saturday morning I woke up to a raging sore throat and snow coming down. But I dragged my arse out of bed because I'd promised to take the kids to Breakfast with the Easter Bunny and the book fair.
On the way out, we pass the refrigerator. My lovely stainless steel, side by side, first new appliance I ever purchased refrigerator.
And there is a now familiar jelly bean person scene on it.
I flipped. I told Isaiah he is on punishment, and that he's going to clean that off. Then he informs me that it's done in Sharpie. WTF. My reply? "Then you're going to FIND a way to clean it off."
He cried.
I fumed.
Hubs cleaned it off.

The Ultimate Answer

What is the one question you can never know the answer to? You know, the biggie. Is there a God?
Last night I had a strange dream. There was a room that you could go into that would either confirm or deny the existence of God. No explanation of how it happened, or how people found out about it. Sorry, dream wasn't THAT detailed. The catch was that you could not change your belief or life or actions based upon the answer, and you couldn't tell anyone what you saw - or didn't see - in the room. The world was going crazy, debates sprung up all over about whether people really wanted to know. There were religious people who claimed they didn't need some side show oracle to tell them what they already knew. There were atheists who said that anything they saw in the room would be invalid. And sorry, for any non-Christians, this was the Catholic God model. I don't know what non-Christians were expected to see. Or not see. Or what. Some absolute truth? Any of the guys above?

My question, absolutely hypothetical, is whether you'd go into this magic room. If there WAS an answer, would you opt to find out?

Time

Hours. Minutes. Days. Weeks. Months.
It's relative, of course (thank you, Mr. Einstein) and time seems to fly when you're having fun. But today, all day, I felt some strange sensation. Now that I've finally had a chance to sit down for longer than it takes to pee, I reluctantly recognize what this cerrping feeling is. Panic.
This week has been very hectic, and shows no signs of slowing down. Tomorrow, in between work and school, I'm escorting my mother to a wake. Yesterday I visted a friend and her son, and it was wonderful to see them, even if under less than ideal circumstances. Today I went to get a hair cut. That was great. But I felt terribly guilty for the time and cost. Monday..... I don't even recall.
Tonight I've got to study for tomorrow's test. My massive research paper for one of my major classes is due April 6. I've barely started. Daimean's birthday falls on Easter. I need to make Easter baskets. I have to arrange a birthday party. I *think* I have a meeting for the school's fundraiser next Tuesday, when I'm supposed to be using my spring break to work on aforementioned research paper. And I think I'm just about of dog food. I've spent next to no time with my boys since this weekend. And even then, we were busy with a baby shower.
I'm so overwhelmed today. Maybe tomorrow I'll slip back into my virtual suit of armor and be ok. Right now, I feel like closing my books, crawling into bed, and saying Fuck environmental biology. Forget the test. I don't care. But I won't, because that's just not me.

Have a Heart

And adopt a Catahoula today! Visit this site for more info, and to see pics of the cutest little 'houlas around.
As you may know, my Ilio is a Catahoula. He's my buddy, my protector, and my garbage disposal. Everyone deserves that kind of loyalty in their lives!

Murder Scene

That was Isaiah's bed this morning. When I walked in, it became highly apparent that he either had a nosebleed during the night, or he sacrificed a chicken in his bed.

He keeps drawing on random things in the house. With marker, of course. I mean, he's SIX, not 2! What the hell? He drew a basketball scene on the toilet paper/tissue tower thingie in the bathroom. I told him to erase it and he said, totally straight faced, "But momma, it's in PEN." Duh. Then he drew a shooting scene on the bunk bed frame. THEN I saw a few red, I don't know, amoebas? on the side table in the living room. Damn it! I asked him WHY on earth he'd do that when I already told him not to draw on anything but paper. His reply? "That one was before you told me."

One of these days.....

Almost Got Me

Yeah, I know why 90% of the people I go to school with are going for early childhood ed. Because they can do the education major and then just pick a minor. But me? Oh no, I'm doing secondary education. I have to have a real major, and then another education major. The result? Takes me twice as long.
So last night, in the wee hours, when I tend to obsess over everything, I almost broke down. I thought, if I drop the history major to a minor, I can finish a lot sooner and actually start teaching. BUT I wouldn't get to teach older kids.
This morning I awoke with a new sense of purpose, and my resolve is strong. I. WILL. FINISH.
Eventually.