Is that a wig or a squirrel? A young girl's story of alopecia.

Young Sally was quite proud of her dark brown pixie hair.  She felt it gave her special powers.  One day young Sally's hair mysterious fell out.  She decided that she was ready for a change and requested a wig with long luxurious curls.  Her loving parents agreed that is exactly what young Sally needed.

During recess at young Sally's school it was not uncommon for the gym doors to be propped open.  Often a squirrel would meander in to watch the children.  On this particular day young Sally was now almost completely bald and she decided that today would be the day to wear her new wig. 

For the past few weeks she had been quietly admiring strapping Johnny, the cutest boy in the second grade.  During recess she followed him to the other side of the gym.  Peeking around the corner, she watched him play volleyball.  The ball was coming right to strapping Johnny.  The ball hit the side of his hand and headed straight for young Sally.  As young Sally stretched out her hands to catch the ball so that she might return it and win favor from strapping Johnny the ball hit her in the head.

Unaware that the ball had caught her wig, her baldness was now apparent to her entire class.  A collective gasp filled the gymnasium as the wigged ball rolled by.  Off to the side young Sally saw the wigged ball roll by and thought it was a squirrel.

The wigged ball rolled right up to Sally's tiny feet.  When she realized what it was she picked up her wig and daintily blew off the dirt from the inside of the wig and flipped her long curls back onto her head.  She picked up the ball, straightened her small shoulders and returned the ball to strapping Johnny.

Today young Sally is a Mother of two adorable children, works, and is a full time student studying to be a virologist.  She has the courage of a lion and I am proud to call her my friend.

Please excuse me while I vent . . .

Ok, I don't want to offend anyone, so if you're easily offended, you may as well stop reading now and click on over to a nice friendly blog.

I'm going to give you the quick and dirty and leave out all the nonsense.  I requested an increase in child support because ex went back to work.  Ok, it was approved but the judge has to sign off on it.  I've never had a reason to transfer my case to my new town.  Well, buddy, I do now.

After missing 3 classes and driving two hours to hear my name called followed by some random date in early March I got mad.  I don't mean a little aggravated.  Apparently today was only motion hour, whatever that means.  I had called the child support office 4 times last week to verify that I really and truly had to be there today and was told that yes, it is imperative and the judge kicks out the motion if the petitioner isn't in court.  Ok, yes ma'am, I understand. 

I had to pull my children out of school for the entire day and my mother had to reschedule a dr's appointment and drive an hour to meet me so she could watch them.

I literally saw red.  I was literally seething.  I can't come up with another word in the English language to describe my anger.

The primary reason I hadn't put in the request (yes it is a request, the child support office can refuse to take a case) at the new office was because I was afraid there would be a gap or a delay in receiving the support.  I left a message at the local office to see if I can transfer my case there.  I hope they call.  I hope they accept the transfer.

On top of that, I had gotten to town 3 hours early to spend time with my oldest and after numerous phone calls, he finally called back to say he'd just woken up and didn't feel good so he was going back to bed.

Today really sucked.

Tomorrow is a new day.

Bunk Beds

When we moved into this house, my smoochies transitioned from sharing a king size bed to bunk beds.  They have loved those bunk beds.  They made tents out of sheets, made forts for their stuffed animals, giggled, told the secrets that brothers tell while cuddled up under blankets.

Can you imagine if adults had bunk beds?  Oh, the fun we could have! 

Even on a twin size mattress, they snuggle.  I remember the day when my oldest began to cut those apron strings.  He was 12 and I tried to pull him into my lap and he would have none of it.  I dread the day these two start to unravel the apron strings.

I'll be away from blogland for a day or two taking care of some personal business and concentrating on school.  I have two tests this week!  :~(

Have a wonderful week!  


 

Valentine's Day

 

Jules over at Trying to Get Over the Rainbow created this adorable button for Valentine's Day to thank her followers.  She offered it up for snagging in hopes that we would share it with our followers. 

So -  Thank you for following my blog.  I have been a bit neglective of late because of school.  But I am dreaming of spring and all the amazing photo ops that are coming up that will fill my little corner of blogworld.

If you have or have had small children, you may know where I'm going with this.  My two little scuttlebutts are addicted to stuffed animals.  They have tons of them.  My youngest sleeps in the top bunk and his bed is ... overwhelmed.... for lack of better words, with teddy bears, elephants, snakes, and puppy dogs.  And silly me bought them each a new one for Valentine's day.  I'm a glutton for punishment.

And a special thank you to Rina over at Our Slice of Heaven!  I won my first ever blog give away and received a beautiful full color magazine called that's life! cookbook.  Thanks Rina!

HAPPY EARLY VALENTINE'S DAY!

Spring Colors

Candy corn plant

Cicada

Sunflower - up close and personal

Morning glory with spider

Spiderweb on a foggy morning

Spring

I am so ready for spring.  I love it.  I'm starting to get anxious to feel my hands in the warm soil - get dirt under my nails.  I love planting in the garden, it's the promise of things to come.  The anticipation of waiting for that first bit of green to poke up out of the ground is almost too much for me.  I can't wait to drive the tomato stakes into the earth in hopes that each plant will produce an overabundance.

Spring - my savior after a cold, dreary, drab winter.

One bitterly cold morning Hawk and Blue jay were huddled up desperately trying to stay warm.  Natural enemies, Hawk and Blue eyed each other suspiciously.  They knew if they huddled together, their chance of surviving the cold was much better than if they stayed alone.

Blue inched a bit closer to Hawk but Hawk would have none of it.  His natural predator's instincts kept him wary.  The wind began picking up speed and each bird realized it was now or never.  Friend or foe.

Blue gathered all his muster and inched closer to Hawk.  Both strong, both territorial, both freezing to death.  What could Hawk do?

He did what his instincts directed him to do.   And alone he faced the biting cold.

The moral of the story is that together so much more can be accomplished.  Every now and again it would behoove the human race to go against our instincts and do something that is for the better good of all instead of self.

The Very Bane of my Existence

Math.  Not 2+2 but




I've already had behavioral statistics but this stuff is the pits.  I got so mad last night after the kids were sleeping because I couldn't figure out how to do something on my *@&# statistical calculator.  Part of my homework on the calculator I have to take pictures of and print them to prove I'm doing it.  That alone infuriates me. 

I don't mind learning something like this, but the amount of busy work is tedious and overwhelming on top of having a mandatory lab at 8 in the morning once a week ...

I hate this class. 

I don't say that lightly.

I remember sitting in Mrs. Catherine's second grade class doing the old kill and drill subtraction problems.  Mrs. Catherine played the old 33 rpm record that was old, static-y and in my 7 year old mind that old vinyl was the bane of my existence then.  I dreamed of grabbing the vinyl, running far away and jumping up and down on it.  Andrew, sitting in front of me, had been bumped up from 1st grade because he was labeled as boy genius, turned around and told me I was so stupid because I used my fingers for subtraction.

I am 40.  I still remember that.

Math phobia is real.  It is huge.  Those who are blessed to just "get it" have no idea what those who don't go through.

I have a 3.6 GPA - I am not a dumb person.  I just don't "get" math.  Unfortunately one of my children struggles with math.


I wish I could wave a magic wand for him.