She didn't earn it

I was perfectly prepared for no boy to be good enough for my little girl. I mean, that's still a good 10 years away (I hope), but I was prepared nonetheless. The one that blindsided me? Emily's new mom. She announced right after Christmas that Crystal is her other mommy - she has two. I held up okay for about a week, but now the thought brings tears to my eyes. Emily is the only person in the world who gets to call me mommy. And now I have to share it with some 22-year old who lives with my ex-husband. She seems nice enough and she seems to have a good relationship with Emily, but I still don't think that qualifies her to be "Mommy." She just...didn't earn it.

Fictional United States Republicans

I stole this from another blog, and had a blast doing it. Go to Wikipedia and click "Random Article" 17 times. The first article title is the name of your new band, the next is the title of your breakthrough album, and the following 15 articles are the songs. I like to think my album is an eclectic mix of cynical, folksy-alternative songs with bluesy undertones.So with no further ado, I present:

High and Driving by Fictional United States Republicans!

1. Broadband Internet Access in Bulgaria
2. Up at the Lake
3. Disambiguation
4. Pueblo de San Francisco
5. Shlomo Aldman
6. David Kerr
7. Still Dirrty
8. 1992 Minnesota Vikings Season
9. Delimora Transmitter
10. Mary Collins
11. Bitstream, Inc.
12. WLTZ
13. Bacha Khan Zadran
14. Orthopedic East
15. Noisettes

You know you want to too

Emily and I just got back from a five day trip to see Ben in DC. It was a crazy, exhausting trip on which Emily did very well. She did, however, pick up some new quirks. Apparently, all this exposure to numerous public bathrooms has left my sweet little girl with potty on the brain. If she thinks it, she says it - such is her way. I spent a large portion of our trip explaining that that we do not talk about human excrement anywhere except in the bathroom; preferably the bathroom at home. Where no one can hear us. As we sat waiting at the airport for the final leg of our flight back to ol' BCS, we encountered one of my co-workers. It wasn't long before Emily had to go potty so Debbie kindly offered to watch our stuff. Upon our return, she requested we extend the same service. I agreed, little did I know that as Debbie walked away Emily would scream across the airport "Are you going to go peepee or poopy?" I was overcome with embarrassment, but now I have to fight the urge to scream "POOP" every few minutes just to see what kind of satisfaction could be derived.

Be it right or be it wrong

I'm having a major case of "Oh God, what have I done?" A few weeks ago I decided to quit my job. you know, that thing that makes me money. Sometimes. Starting in January, I will be a full time student. And unemployed. Without benefits. On Tuesday I had to give a presentation in my Sociology class. I opted to do a paper on the TV series Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the socializing influence it carries. Then I presented to a classroom of blank stares. The night before, I discussed it with my completely unimpressed boyfriend. Two days prior I interviewed my totally disgusted friend. On Thursday I listened to two stellar presentations and then a mediocre presentation on Novellas that everybody ATE UP. So pretty much - Oh God! What have I done? I wanted to do this college thing so that I'd have a degree (read: earning power), but also so that I could gain some confidence. I am so tired of feeling like a bubble head. However, with most of my friends in medical or law school and my boyfriend about to become a Naval Officer with a degree in Foreign Relations from one of the top schools in the country and classmates who discuss the iconic value of Mary Magdalene, I still feel like a bubblehead. People are out there worrying about the disintegration of religion and the validity of supreme court rulings. They are learning to SAVE LIVES or program computers, or speak Arabic. And I, I'm examining the correlation of popular TV culture with violence against women and the misogynistic viewpoint a dead playwright. I'm arranging photo albums and trying to convince my little neighbor girl to wear something other than pajama pants. Now, I've quit the only thing that gives me value to complete a degree in a highly disregarded soft science because I somehow thought this would improve my chances to make rent each month. Unfortunately, be it right or be it wrong, I have to stick with it because there really is no turning back from a notice of resignation. A few weeks ago I was folding under the pressure of being called a hero for all the juggling I do. What was I thinking?

Emily!

On logic
Me: Oh baby, you know you might want to put those shoes on the other feet.
Emily: *looks at her feet, looks around* Do you mean my hands because dees are da only feet I got.

On letter identification:
Emily read me Mr. Brown can Moo, can You? She "reads" by pointing to every letter in each word and telling me what it is and then telling me the color of the word. We also usually have to count something on the page. So on Mr. Brown can Cock a Doodle Doo! Emily says: D-O-O-D-L-E for me! When he whisper whispers Emily says: W-H-I-S-P-E for me!-R.

On illness:
Emily: I don't fweel good.
Me: Oh no! Are you gonna be alright?
Emily: No. I died.

Emily!

J: Baby, you have been so good this weekend, you are a very good girl and I am proud of you.
E: Yes, but I am not going to be as good as I can.
J: Why not?
E: Because it would be too much.

Wise men talk...

...because they have something to say. Fools talk because they have to say something. Grrr. I have this pet peeve that goes something like this: I pay a lot of money to be in school. And my opportunity costs are equally high. So if you are in class with me, don't waste my time by staring blankly at the prof when she asks a question. Similarly, I hate it when profs ask leading questions and then completely ignore the normal discussion participants in desperate hope that someone else will open his mouth. I'm pretty sure we all know that I'm a talker. In complaining to Ben last night he pointed out that there is a lot that can be accomplished by sitting and listening. He's right. I really wanted to argue, but he's right. The more I think about it, though, the more I worry. Ben has in no way EVER implied that I am a fool, but I do usually just have to say something in class. Maybe I'm missing out because I can't shut up.

One side of a phone call

"Okay, I am just going to fucking tell you straight up dude...whether she does or doesn't, stay away from her...I know...I know...and delete that shit from your phone so you don't call her the next time you get fucked up..."

Yesterday I was walking down the hall when I came across our Assistant Athletic Director looking out the door. "Do you see what I see?" he asked me. I looked, blinked, looked again to find that there were about 30 20-something boys running through the west Kyle Tunnel shirtless and wearing shorts and snorkel masks. Not just wearing snorkel masks, but breathing through them. Geez guys; I know its humid here but that seems a little extreme.

Insecurity

Ah, so I'm finally experiencing the rub of a long distance relationship. Actually, let's not pretend, I'd probably be like this in any relationship. Insecure that is. Yesterday I was suddenly overwhelmed with the fear that Ben was going to end things. He has NEVER said anything resembling break up talk. He's just been mentioning this other girl more frequently lately. I'm not jealous (well of course I'm jealous she gets to see him regularly and I don't, but I get to see more of him when I do see him). The thing is, I've met her. She's smart, and pretty, and funny. She works hard. She likes my boy. She doesn't have a kid, or an ex-husband. She lives in DC. Also, he's always in a good mood when he's spent some time with her. It all reminds me that there are other choices out there for Ben. When I get through all this insecure nonsense I'll feel pretty good because he still chooses me over all the others. In the meantime though, I have this fear that he might wake up and choose some other. What wouldn't I give to have him hold me RIGHT NOW so that I could feel his heartbeat and know I have nothing to worry about.

There's no crying in baseball

Yesterday I was a little blue. Well, actually, I was tired and therefor more bla then blue, but whatever. I thought of calling someone to come hang with me and cheer me up, but opted to aim for extra time doing homework. I was less than successful because I got distracted by A League of Their Own on TNT. I love this movie. In fact, I may need to own this movie. I spent less time on my reading than would have been optimal, but at least I perked up.

Lunch

1 slim fast vanilla cream shake...and some raw cookie dough.Fabulous.

Perhaps I should have gone with a band-aid

I had a fight with my mom. Over money. *Groan* It was, as usual, awful. After two days of avoiding my calls she called to make nice (after reminding me how much I had hurt her). However, when she asked if we were cool, I told her I didn't think so. The thing is, I want to be friends with my mom and for us to have a lasting relationship we have to stop just patching things up with band-aids. She has really added a lot of stress to my life by loaning me money. That sounds completely unreasonable and unappreciative. However, the way she makes me feel guilty and indebted is just unreal and, I think, more than a little unfair. I let her know all this and I am pretty sure I will spend the next two weeks not hearing from her. I am doing the best I can, but she doesn't act like she knows that. I don't really know where to go from here. I guess this will just spur me to work harder so I can make more and get her paid off. Otherwise, I'm going to be constantly afraid that she's going revoke all her offers to help me out and that's going to leave me in a pretty bad position. On the one hand, we know how I like to worry about nothing, but on the other, maybe I should have accepted the band-aid.

Is this as hard as it gets?

Ben and I had a fight. Ugh. It was so very mild; no yelling or name calling or anything silly like that. We just had a difference of opinion and it led to some complications. In any case, I have that squeamish insecure feeling now. It's nowhere near as bad as it was with Jesse. The two conversations subsequent to the "fight" have been short and he seems curt. I'll admit that the curtness could be my paranoia. Normally we are sickeningly lovey dovey on the phone and play the whole I love you/I miss you/why can't we be closer routine to death. However, he only tossed me an "I love you" at the very end of Tuesday's phone call and it was sort of joking. I hate this. I have this fear that things won't be the same now or that he sees me differently and won't love me as much and...ugh! Do you people know how much I want to deserve this boy? Do you know how much I want to prove to him that I can get over this insecurity deal so he doesn't have to reassure me all the time? We'll probably pull through, but if I keep up this paranoia, how long will we last? This is the hard part of a long distance relationship. There is no physical reassurance, no looks of affirmation. *sigh*

School is now in session

Once again, I wish I could be a full time student. Seriously, my classes are so fun this semester and positively engaging! I fell like I'm cheating me and the class by not being able to completely immerse myself in studying. I may have found that proverbial calling in women's studies. Not what I would have expected for myself, but so very interesting. I just want to soak it up; find out what has been studied and what aspects were missed; delve into the history of it all. I mean, I'm not thinking that all women have been brainwashed into fashionable, beauty craving zombies, but I do think there are some amazingly well hidden socialization methods throbbing throughout our culture. I'm a little pissed because next week I have to pick a project for the semester and I don't even think all of the interesting topics have been revealed to me yet. After, all three weeks is not so very much time. Yea for renewed vigor!

I miss my boy already

Are you sitting. You should sit. Well maybe not, but I had to sit when it hit me. I would like to live with Ben. He just left and now I want him back. Now! It was so good having him for two plus weeks. We had a quasi-fight about my space and his space versus our space some time around week two. We also ran into some issues with Emily. She was relatively hot and cold towards Ben, which was surprising. I had a chat with her and she told me the she just does not like him. It is okay with her that I like him and okay that he likes me, but she doesn't like him and can we go play with a toy now? There were these moments, though, where things just clicked so well. When we would all have tickle fights or Ben and I would marvel over Emily's progress with puzzles and problem solving. There was a lot of good cooking and some family time on both ends. I expected to be glad to be rid of him after such a long span (the longest for us yet), but am surprised to find otherwise. Shall I be cliche and say I'm ready for the next level? The rub is that there really isn't a next level for us. He'll finish in DC come December and pack off to Virginia Beach. There will only be six months to a year there before a big question mark. Honestly, he wants to go to Europe. Honestly, I want to go to Europe. Feasibly? A big fat negative. So this leaves me with trying to be happy with what I have now and worry about tomorrow when it gets here. Currently, I am not too frustrated with the idea of a wait. After all, I am still in a position from which I need saving so I need a little time to figure out how to save myself. Maybe then, more with will feasible. Thoughts? Questions? Advice? Anybody?

My job is driving me crazy! So crazy, in fact, that it makes me want to rip my hair out by the roots. So a few days ago, that is exactly what I did; I made an appointment to get a bikini wax.I called, I asked a few questions, I calmed my nerves, and I made the appointment for the Tuesday before Ben got here. I took a late lunch to get it done at this pretty swanky place I know. As I am sitting on the big comfy waiting room couch filling out my paperwork, an all too familiar voice exclaims "Hiiiii!" I close my eyes and swallow before I lift my chin to look my aestetician in the eye and squeak "I thought you were in Austin."Now, let's all think about who could possibly be the most unnerving person assigned to work on one's most intimate area. That's right, the girl your boyfriend gave his virginity to. The girl he dated for three years and whom you treated like shit. And it isn't like I could just run out because then she'd think I still disliked her or maybe thought she was incompetent or something. So I went through with it. Thank goodness I had to go back to work that afternoon or I might have taken the spa up on that offer for a glass of wine. And then I might have asked her input on what Ben would like best.

Emily!

J: "Big U...little u...what begins with U? Uncle Ubbs umbrella and his underwear too.
E: Uncle Ubb? Dare is no Uncle Ubb. Dare is only Uncle Ryan and he doesn't wear underwear.

Humor me!

I need a favor. Like most people, I have no idea what al my strengths are. I'm trying to make a fantastic resume. I'd like to think that I am a fantastic person and therefore this will not be that hard. Humor me will ya, and tell me some good things about me. Good things that employers would like. Thanks guys!

Mile 0

When driving to Dallas one reaches the marker for Mile 0. I have no clue why this strikes me. It seems so final somehow. Weird. Drive time makes for a lot of time to think. I have a lot to think about so this rather works out for me. The most recent crisis: to move or not to move. I would love to be out of BCS. I'm rather scared and my recent revelation is that I'll keep finding excuses to stay here, where I am safe but unhappy. Jesse's possible promotion would be good for all of us. Have I mentioned how dearly I'd like to live closer to Ben? There are all these pros and cons to moving and a like amount of pros and cons to staying. All the considering makes it hard to breathe. Ben is such a sweetheart in trying to keep my focus where it needs to be and minimize all that dwelling I do. When I fall apart he reminds me that I'm trying to make plans by gazing into a crystal ball and a cloudy one at that. I'm doing the best I can. Thanks, Ben. By Mile 0 I had decided to go ahead with all of my resume revising and job applications. I'll apply in Dallas, TX (the safe choice), Maryland, Virginia, West Virginia, and Delaware.I had an excellent time in Dallas. I still really love it there. Sarah is nothing short of a doll. We giggled over the stupidest stuff. Girls are ridiculous when in packs and I wouldn't have it any other way. If Dallas is the choice this is the girl I will live with. She took me on my maiden voyage to IKEA. I...LOVE...IKEA! It was an hour and a half of excited shopping bliss. I spent $11.60. I almost died trying to not spend anything so I gave in a little.Then I had to come home. I had an interesting experience at Starbucks when a good looking man walked by and told me I was beautiful without stopping. Driving into BCS was the most depressing homecoming ever. After the sparkling clean area surrounding Sarah's apartment and the route out of the metroplex, Bryan looked dingy and smelled like old wash water. Everything seemed small and dated. Perhaps I've become a snob. Maybe I always have been. I wish I could be back at Mile 0.

Excuse me while I hyperventilate

This is kind of an odd question but one that needs to be asked. I've been offered a position in the DC area. How serious are things with you and Ben? Are you considering a move there? I would like to know this before I even begin negotiations over this potential move. If it is not likely that you will move then I will not even offer my conditions for my transfer. If you are considering a move then I will at least begin to entertain more details of my potential transfer.Thank you, Jesse Gatlin TSV-KHS ext. 77570

It's a good thing he's pretty

Ben called last night. Now I want to laugh because we talk every night but that opening makes it sound like he called me after some long lapse. Anyway, here is why I love Ben: Apparently, he made au gratin potatoes from a box a few days ago. We both agree that the box potatoes are inordinately salty. Subsequent to making the potatoes he made some sort of meat and, after tasting them, realized that the potatoes were not quite done. When the meat was finished he put the potatoes back in to finish cooking. Last night he opened the oven to make something else that requires an oven and discovered that he had not ever actually removed the potatoes from the oven. Contrary to his previous belief, cooking dairy products does not alter the time it takes for them to go bad. There was some gagging and plate scraping and me dissolving into giggles because my boy is not perfect. Isn't that just, well, perfect?

Emily!

Hello Baby,
I just wanted to write to let you know how much I love you. You turned three this month, which you proudly tell people by silently holding up the "okay" sign; three fingers up while your thumb and forefinger make a little circle.

The bitter sweet moments are just piling up. The other day you "helped" me do laundry. Your job description is very specific, and includes the handling of all laundry money. On laundry day you insist on wearing clothing with pockets so you can safely stow the $1.50 in quarters. Once all clothes are loaded into the washer or dryer as is appropriate to their sequence in the laundering cycle, you also put the quarters in the machine. Not even a year ago I only pretended to let you put money in the machine because your little fingers and eyes could not line up the quarter and the ridiculously narrow slot. Seriously, do those slots really need to be that small? Once upon a time a person could just lay the quarters into a quarter sized indention on a little tray and then slide the tray into the money-hungry machine. In any case, on Saturday all I had to do was hold you at the right height for putting change in the machines. You did all the rest yourself. You took your three quarters out of your pocket with your right hand and shifted them all to your left hand. Then you took one coin at a time back in your right hand and slid it cleanly into the slot. Just like that. Just like a real big girl. Sometimes I call you Baby and you defiantly insist that you are not a baby but a big girl. I think you are right.
Love, Mama

Are you lost little girl?

*sigh* Yes. Yes, I am. I am not happy. Again. What's worse, I'm also unmotivated. I don't love my "new" job anymore. I started reading Good to Great a few weeks ago and I am now disgusted with the Athletics Department. What a load of crap we have here! This book, which our senior staff and coaches were forced to read three years ago, is all about how change starts at the top and people can't be afraid to fire employees who are not top notch and they can't be afraid to make changes and be rigorous and blah blah blah. If they do all this stuff to have "the right people doing the right job," the business will succeed. So our administrators obviously read this book and then chucked it out he window. So now I read it and see that I work for this completely disorganized business and am under this totally reckless boss and ARGH!. Furthermore (and I know this is going to open me up to some ribbing), I watched the Devil Wears Prada this past weekend. Awesome movie. I get a lot of inspiration from movies. I find some character that I adore and I want to completely emulate them. Anne Hathaway's character develops herself into this super efficient, one step-ahead, assistant with mad skills. I so want to be that girl. On Tuesday I dove into this persona. By Wednesday I was over it. I don't work for a detail oriented uber boss at the top of his industry. I work for an uncommunicative sports enthusiast who breaks rules to get things done and fails to set deadlines or project parameters. It's hopeless. I want out. I want a job at a place that actually cares about being a successful business. I want away from my ex-husband. I want out of this semi-small city full of fake money. I feel trapped though. Should I finish my degree first? Will Jesse let me take Em to another place? I am lost. I cannot find my way to happiness. Emily makes me happy and Ben makes me happy. Several of my friends make me happy. How do I find the way for ME to make me happy?

Emily!

For her birthday, among other things, Emily got a pink bikini. I won't lie, I still don't know how I feel about having my toddler in a two piece. As far as tiny people bathing suits go, it is really cute. It's pink with little applique flowers in pink and yellow and green etc. It has these fat little pink gingham ties on the side and at the neck. At first she didn't really care about it. I mean, geez, she had CROCS! to be concerned about. Then, all of a sudden she decided she wanted to put it on in lieu of pajamas. Let me think. Either let her wear her perfectly dry, perfectly clean bikini to bed or refuse and have a full on brawl right before bedtime. Swimwear it is! People, you have never seen a woman more proud of herself in a bikini. Never. NEVER. I asked if I could take her picture to send to GeeGee and she was thrilled. After she checked herself out in the mirror for the second time she stood in the hallway, legs hip width apart, hands on hips, eyes closed, chin up, and a teeth-barring smile so big I thought the rest of her head was going to disappear.

 All women should be this proud of themselves.

Emily!

E: Mama, I'm too hot for my croc.
J (singing) Oh? I'm too sexy for my shirt.
E: Well I'm too hot for my other croc.
J: Well okay then.

B: I need a tan
J: Um, hi, have you seen me? I currently have a tan and I am paler than you.
B: Yeah, but which one of us used to be bronze?
J: I hate you.

Thinking

Okay, three things. 1. There is no reason to wear a teal blue wool scarf with a pink sundress. To a bar. In Texas. At the end of June! It is about as cute as it is practical. 2. Along the same lines, please shoot me if I ever go to one of my SUMMER classes wearing velour pajama pants. It is hot here in the summer. Plus, don't people know the difference between lounge wear and what is acceptable for the public eye? 3. Shearling trimmed suede Ugs are not rain boots. They just aren't.

Okay, three things.1. There is no reason to wear a teal blue wool scarf with a pink sundress. To a bar. In Texas. At the end of June! It is about as cute as it is practical.2. Along the same lines, please shoot me if I ever go to one of my SUMMER classes wearing velour pajama pants. It is hot here in the summer. Plus, don't people know the difference between lounge wear and what is acceptable for the public eye?3. Shearling trimmed suede Ugs are not rain boots. They just aren't.

My thoughts (fears) exactly *sigh*

And to sum up my weekend with Emily:
E: I want my mommy.
J: I am your mommy.
E: No, you're not my mommy. You're my Janice. You try to be mommy but you are not berry good at it. You should go to the doctor so he can fix you. But right now I want my mommy.

Sunny days sweeping the clouds away

Meteorologically it has been rainy. Rainy rainy rainy. Psychologically though, it has been nothing but golden rays of sunshine. I don't ever have to think about calculus again because I finally passed it. I am currently taking a government course that is surprisingly interesting and managed a 94 on my first test. I totally kicked butt getting stuff done this past weekend so I feel incredibly accomplished. I have been awarded some grant money for the fall which will hopefully improve life for Em and me. I see Ben in less than two months. Jessica finally split from Justin and is so much the better for it. AND, the best news of all: Bliss was nominated for Best in the Brazos! Something directly affected by my participation is in the running to be the best of something! Imagine how stoked I am!

The Name of the Game

What is it about friends getting engaged that suddenly makes a girl go crazy if she is not on the verge of the same? I'm going to go with my competitive streak. Clarise got engaged this month. Yea Clarise. And I am really excited for her. I mean, have you heard her talk about this boy? On the other hand, I guess I'm a little jealous...more like impatient...no jealous....okay, maybe both. I am totally not ready to wrap my life around someone else's dreams again. I do that for Emily and plan to keep on so I don't need to keep up with your desires too. I am not ready to live with someone else. My recent roommate experience with Hava was stellar, but not something I want to do for an extended period. Not yet. So what's with the jealousy and impatience? I guess I am just looking forward to that feeling of being loved for a long time to come. And really, I think it is all about natural feminine competition. I like to be the best, perfect even. I want to one up the girl who just got engaged with a "look what I have." Petty, yes. So let's step away from the petty and "look at what I have." I have a hot boyfriend who is so intelligent and incredibly kind. He's also human and often confesses to being afraid that I'll figure that out some day. How compelling is that!? He asks about my day and lets me prattle about children's birthday parties and my non-understanding of politics. He practices class presentations on the phone with me. I know so many of his insecurities because I knew him way back when he was chasing after other girls. What I don't have is a desired to be toed down. Not just yet. Thank goodness for that. As bubbleheaded as I am, I know that committed relationships are not something you spur along just to keep up with the other pretty girls. So, I'll just be a girlfriend right now and in that capacity there is one thing more that I have: a lot to offer.

Emily!

on dogs:
Chihuahua is actually said "chi-wala" and if it is not a "chi-wala" it is not a dog. Period. Also, koala bears will just have to be called something else because they are not "chi-walas" either and whoever thought to call that particular animal such a homo-phonically similar name was just out of their freakin' mind. Forget suggesting she call it a marsupial, it'll take her so long to get the word out she'll forget what she is talking about in the first place.
on socializing:
E: Mama, I don' wanna go to Donna's and meet Mary.
J: Oh but baby, Mary is so fun! Why wouldn't you.
E: Well, I fink I member her so yeah. When I go to Donna's I will meet Mary. I meet people. Sometimes I do dat.(Okay, does that not just knock your socks off? I mean she says it like I would talk about getting a pedicure or going to Vegas - Yeah, sometimes I do that. Don't act surprised, it's just who I am.)
On fashion:
Simply, the world just looks better when one is wearing a "baby" suit. By the way, my big girl can now put her bathing suit on all by herself.

I am NOT Pregnant

And can I just let out a resounding "whew!" I am not an irresponsible girl (most of the time). I am in a monogamous relationship, and a really good one at that. I am also on birth control. I hate it, but I am on it. I take it every night at about 10:10. So why the sudden proclamation of bun baking status? Well, I went to see Ben last month. Oh Ben *momentary pause for a slow smile and wildly beating heart*. Most of you probably don't care to know what Ben and I do during our one on one time and I have no plans to elaborate, but I'm sure you all can figure out how we pass some of our time. Okay, a good deal of it. During my visit I did not once deviate from my 10:10 pm regime. However, that regime also includes an antibiotic. Yup, I can see the realization creeping across the faces of you medical types. And I checked! Boy did I ever check to make sure that antibiotic would not interfere with that birth control. I went over it with my dermatologist after I spent time with Hava learning my ovulation cycle. And they told me it would not interfere. The internet tells a different story. The prescription bottle tells no story. The fear began creeping in before Ben's silhouette disappeared from view at the airport. It was a sleep depriving, knot forming fear. And, as it turns out, an irrational one. The NOT Pregnant indicator showed up on time. We all know how I like to worry about nothing. However, I emit a resounding "whew." I also give you a rather long journal entry about something that didn't happen, but I figure you can all suck it up and enjoy my relief with me. I think I'll treat myself to a drink.

The best part

My favorite part of going to college: running into folk I know on campus. Makes me feel like the popular girl.

Emily!

On infallible logic:
E: I want to go inside!
J: Why, baby?
E: Because I want to got inside.
J: Yes, I understand, but why?
E: BECAUSE...I...WANT...TO!

On pronunciation: granola bar = gorilla bar

On benevolence: "Aunt Hava does not live wif us anymore...I forgive her. And I guess I forgive Uncle Ryan."

On family:
D: Aunt Have went to her home. She lives with Ryan.
E: Ryan? No DonNA! Not Ryan, Uncle Ryan.

Emily!

On respecting her elders: "Miss Aunt Hava! Miss Mama!"

On proper nouns:
J: Was there anyone else in the story?
E: Yes, dare was a little giwrl.
J: And what was her name?
E: Mama, I told you A...LITTLE...GIRWL.

On being specific:
D: Do you want a little more juice?
E: No.
D: Okay, what do you want?
E: A lotta more juice.

The woman behind the man

I'm not sure if I told everyone, but I have a new job. I started it at the beginning of May. I am the support staff for the entire facilities department at A&m Athletics.

I won't lie, I was VERY upset at first. I felt like nobody wanted me and they were depriving me of this great opportunity to learn from a real business man etc etc. But I LOVE it down here.My new true love is Mr. Pickard.

Mr. Pickard is Aggie Athletics. He's one of the original Junction Boys, and at 73 years old, I think he might eat nails for breakfast. He's as much an institution here as Kyle Field.

And he's a complete kitten.

Mr. Pickard is so incredibly stubborn and does not like to count on anyone but himself. He also checks once a week to make sure I am happy and comfortable and have enough office supplies. Do you know what an honor it is to work for a man like that? This is the most amazing opportunity I've had yet at A&M Athletics. I'm so incredibly happy here.

meandering

Dear You,I thought about you the other week. Can you believe it was more than a year ago? I don't miss you, so don't get the wrong idea. I do, however, think of you. I don't know if you realize how much I needed you when you happened along. That's why there was never really a chance for us and also why we happened in the first place. Wouldn't we have been an odd match. Does it make you sort of wrinkle your nose and laugh at the absurdity? Does it seem surreal when you look back? Do you even look back? I forget whether you really ever indulged in that sort of reflection. So why do I write to you today? I suppose that I have that uncomfortable feeling of something having been left undone. You know how I flit from place to place and then suddenly stop and wonder what it is I'm forgetting. For a while I thought perhaps I was forgetting to worry about what you were really thinking when I spoke my mind or complained or acted rather unladylike. That's not it though. We all know I like to worry, but being relieved of that particular weight has left nothing resembling a void. It's probably more the way we fade in and out of each others lives. There's never a good bye. I usually like the fade out, the lack of a definitive end. I prefer to suddenly look up and realize that something hasn't been there and wonder how long it hasn't been there. But your fade to black is different. Isn't it fun when I ramble? Perhaps I should make a point. It all comes down to wanting to thank you. You grabbed my heart when you took me by the hand and led me through that crowd. I probably iterated more than necessary how long it had been since my hand had been held. Did I ever mention how long it had been since I was led instead of pushed or pulled? You made me feel important and somehow precious. More importantly, you made me feel wanted. In the long run, you weren't what I needed. But then, in those months of turmoil, I needed to get what I wanted and I wanted you. It made me better-ish. I learned a lot about impulse and about me and about no regrets. There are still no regrets. Now, I have someone who doesn't lead me. THAT is what I need. He holds me by the hand and then lets me run while he keeps up. Sometimes he runs places I never imagined and I get to try to keep up. It's fun. Didn't you always tell me it was supposed to be fun? You were right. It's way better like this. So we were wrong but you were right. I'm better for it. Thank you so much for fading away into "not a regret." I won't be signing things addressed to you with "all my love" or "yours truly," but I can sign them this way:With thanks,the girl on whose heart you left fingerprints

Emily!

On dessert:
E: My baby wants chock-o-lot ice scream, but I want pink.
J: Well how 'bout we get you pink ice cream with chocolate sprinkles.
E: *gasp* Yes! I want pink ice cream with spock-o-lots!

On culture: "Da woff ate da duck!"

On medical help and sympathy: "Mama, did you burn your hand on da i-run?...Kin I see? It looks like da skin is melted off...Maybe I will kiss it an make it fweel better later because DAT is gwross."

An Emi post for Clare to appreciate

At a recent softball game Emily found herself quite bored. I'm pretty sure all that standing around made it hard for her to understand how exactly this qualified as a sporting event. We fixed that by heading downstairs and then "racing" back and forth for a fe innings. When she was finally ready to return to the game the war hymn began. Emily got all excited and informed me that "dis is when we all dance!" Okay, so Aggies call this sawing and regular people call this swaying, but Emily? Emily says it is time to dance!

She's not wrong...

Last Thursday Emily and I had our weekly dinner with Donna Rea. Donna has been a friend of my family for 50 years and I think her parents were friends with my family for a few decades before she was even in the picture. After dinner Donna asked Emily if she wanted some ice cream. Well duh, Donna, she's my kid isn't she? Emily answered with "Yeah." Ugh. I've been working on this "yeah" business for an eternity. Knowing this, Donna prompted Em "If you want ice cream you say what?" The response? "Ice cream." "Yes, but you say what?" And my oh so clever child answered just as she had been asked to: "What." My poor hostess, face contorted from withheld laughter, took one last attempt. "Emily," she implored. "What is the magic word?" Ah ha! Emily's little face lit up and I could just see the neurons firing. She smiled and, with complete confidence, finally announced "Hocus Pocus!" We gave her two scoops.

What I've learned this week...

...from Ben: It's hard making it through life trying to find humility so you can deal with one aspect and pride to deal with another. ( I think this might be the actual secret to life).

from work: There is absolutely no reason to name a gas station "Cum and Go Gas!" That is just WRONG!

from Buffy: It is good to have a policy against killing human beings, but it is also good to be flexible.

from snack food: 1. Even if you are sweet, not everyone will like you. 2. Cocoa flavored peeps taste even more chocolatey a day after the package has been opened than they did when the package is first opened and that knowledge is all one really needs to make it through the day!

Early Easter with Emily

On the weather: "Mama! Iss tha wonder!" Not thunder, but tha wonder.
On Disney movie releases: "When are we gonna watch Peanut butter Pants?" Not Peter Pan, but Peanut butter Pants.
On hiding Easter eggs: "Look Mama! I hid one here and one on your car and one on Gramma's car..."

The world according to Emily

There are no strawberries just "stwawbellies."

on negotiating:
"Daddy, if I hafta wait til afta dinner fo my jiminums I don want 2...I want 5."
or
E: "I want two jiminums"
J: "You can have an M&M and a sticker"
E: "But I want two jiminums"

on breakfast:
"I...WANT...ICE...CREAM!!!"

on respecting her mom:
J: "Baby, did you have dinner at Grandma's house"
E: "Uh-huh"
J: "Well what did you have"
E: with the disdain of a full blown teenager AND and eye-roll: "Food."

Multiplied by the share factor

A while back I was reading my favorite blog when I came across a passage regarding the author's daughter. She was talking about how fantastic it was to look over the head of her 3 year old and lock eyes with her husband in an expression of parental solidarity regarding the recent exploits of their greatest joy. I admit that this is something I have definitely been missing. Jesse is so in love with Emily and every little accomplishment would result in a gasp or squeal of joy from me and a beaming smile of pride or astonishment from him. Lately, these indeed have been the loneliest moments for me. A child provides so much in one's life, but nothing, NOTHING, compares to that special bond of companionship when someone else shares those moments with you. Telling someone else about them is just not the same. ...then along came Ben. Last week having both him and Emily was unexpectedly heavenly. He'd catch my eye and we'd try not to giggle over her mispronunciations. He taught her to call him a ninja and to tell me I'm pretty. I'd catch a look of slight surprise on his face right before he'd declare my baby exceptionally smart. Then, be still my heart, I caught him kissing her on the top of the head and whispering "I love you Emily Gatlin" one morning while they were watching cartoons together on the living room floor. Talk about being made whole.

Emily!

Jackson Parrot: I love you Emily Gatlin! I want you to have a cookie! Do you want a cookie?
Emily: I love you too Jackson! No! I am having pudding!
Janice: Awww, he loves her and wants her to have a cookie!

Cue laughter from the entire restaurant who had been watching the two babies express their love via snack food and a crushing hug.

Sleepy Girl

I am so freakin' tired. Sleepy, wore out, bag under my eyes, the whole bit. I have no idea what the problem is. Stress? New medicine? I'm clueless...and sleepy...and grumpy, the last two of which are my least favorite dwarfs. Oh well.

My daughter has been a darling this week. She thinks she is a kitty and insists I call her as I would a cat. Then, as she makes her way toward me she repeats the call: here key key key. It is really very cute, although a little exasperating. She has decided that I am a dog. Aren't tiny little two-year-old ideas fun?!

Saturday I see my Ben. When I think of him sometimes I cannot catch my breath and I am absolutely looking forward to 9 days of being breathless. Last night I had an away message up that he sent to his friend Dave saying "this is my girlfriend's away message. Isn't that cool?!" My boyfriend thinks I'm cool. Excuse me while I turn red and can't stop smiling.

Sacrilige

"This is just something you're going to have to accept." Hmmm, who'd have thought that math class would take me back to my days of Sunday school and confirmation? But there it was. The prof was going on about something that happens when you do something to X and we were just going to have to take it on faith. Seems to me everybody just has to have something to cling to. Something inexplicable. Living here in the buckle of the Texas Bible Belt there are apparently only two choices: God or Math.

more Emi-isms

According to the Emily, authority on all things vocabulary the English language has been changed as follows: stretchy = crunchy ex) Mama, I love my crunchy pants. Thas what I wanna we-r today.
with = for ex) Mama, come to da bafroom for me.
fork = ferk ex) I wanna use a big ferk lika you!

Paper or plastic?

So I went to the grocery store today, the Saturday before Valentine's day, because I'm a fricken' genius. At the checkout I was faced with the world's most sullen high school student who ran my things through the checkout without so much as a word until he declared my total was $49.31 and I had saved such and such amount pronounced so quickly that I had no time to register how much before I was told to have a nice day and all but ushered out of the checkout line. BUT THEN! I heard the voice belonging to the very same sullen high school student pleasantly addressing the lady behind me as ma'am and asking her if she'd found everything alright. Now wait a second. Where was my ma'am and inquiry as to my ability to locate things? As a matter of fact, I did not find everything alright! I spent a good thirty minutes looking for frozen meatballs. I wandered up and down the aisles of a store bustling with frantic people buying things to make what I assume will be a fantastic dinner for singles awareness day while I puzzled over where frozen meatballs could possibly be kept. I had no trouble locating the "Bubba Burgers" or frozen apple gorgonzola cheese pizza. I was even so lucky to discover that you can purchase some sort of frozen patty appetizingly named "Tofurkey." I could not, however, locate the FUCKING MEATBALLS! When I had finally given up and comforted myself by declaring that I would no longer need to find the obviously hidden ricotta cheese because I would have no use for it without those damn meatballs, I found them. They were in with the frozen potato products. Of course! There's nothing like a tater tot so much as an Italian or even Swedish style meatball. After that I really did have to find the ricotta cheese which was cleverly placed with the coffee creamer in the refrigerators where they keep the milk. This was the obvious choice since it would have been so out of place with the cream, cottage and mozzarella cheeses cunningly placed among the cheddar and those sort of plastic-y American singles. And in those thirty minutes the checkout lines got fuller and fuller so that I was forced to pick the shortest one which was so cheerfully populated by the very essence of checkout boy aristocracy. So dammit, I am 24 years old and the mother of a toddler. I spend my days working through calculus problems and the travel expenses of football coaches. I think I absolutely deserve a ma'am and some questioning about product placement in the store thankyouverymuch you sniveling, self centered rodent boy! But then all was sunny again when I got home and realized that the sacking guy had two brain cells capable of being rubbed together and producing the thought that eggs should not be sacked with the liter of cherry juice.

Emi-isms

M&M = jiminum
Polka dots = coke-a-nuts
Sabrina = Reena
I don't know = i. n. o.
piano = nano

And then tonight she fell asleep clutching a sparkly, feathery purple wand. I love my baby.

When I fall in love, it will be completely

Did you know that you can fall in love with the same person a hundred times a week? Like the 14th time this week when we talked and he managed to reference Mother Goose and military tactics in the same conversation. Or the 3rd time when I opened an envelope expecting just some pictures he'd promised to send and found a card so amazing that I teared up. There was the 72nd time when he called me his girlfriend and my heart flopped out of my chest and starting beating wilding somewhere in my abdomen. Last night was the 99th time while he was helping me with my calculus homework and not making me feel like an idiot. My basic conclusion is that if one is always falling it is more like floating. So here I sit, floating in love.

Peachy with a side of keen

I got to my car to see my very flat driver side rear tire. So I changed it. In the rain. In the cold. While wearing high heals. Right after my physical at the GYNECOLOGIST.Yup. Peachy keen. That's me.

And I just can't wait to be king!

The Lion King Cast of Characters per Emily:
Simba: Symmm-buh or "Da line King! Dare he is!"
Nala: Nala
Zazu: Saw-soo
Scar: Scarf
Mufasa: Moo-pasta or "Da Line King! Dare he is!"(this is my personal favorite)
None of the other characters seem to have much impact on Emily. I'm also not really sure why, but Simba, Mufasa and the leopard shown during "The Circle of Life" at the beginning for a whopping 2.1 seconds are all "Da Line King." She also comes to get me during the elephant graveyard scene which is "scare-wee." Emiy does not actually believe there are any "ella-funts" present during this scene, just "some-tink kin-ah like elle-funts, swort-ah. I am so in love.