Sad News

On Wednesday night I had to sit the kids down and give them some sad news. My sister had called to tell me their dog had passed away the night before. Coti was a German Shepherd that they got as a puppy I think around 11 years ago. In the last couple of months she's gotten progressively worse to the point where she wasn't eating and couldn't even get up. I had just talked to my sister the night before and she was telling me her hubby was afraid he was going to have to take her to the vet to have her put down. They got lucky and she passed in her sleep that night. Since the kids are only almost 7 and almost 4 they've always had Coti around to play with. Coti knew when the kids came she would get a little extra attention, a little extra playtime and a lot of extra bones from my son.

When I got off the phone I shed a few tears. Not really so much for Coti but more for the kids. I've never had to "sit them down" to tell them anything. I dreaded doing it but I knew it had to be done. Being a Cancer makes you an overly emotional person anyway so of course I broke down a little as soon as I started to tell them. I think it scared them a bit so I really tried hard to keep it together. This wasn't the worst news you could tell anyone, by any means. Really no need to freak out!

Both of the kids reacted exactly how I thought they would. Blake didn't really understand. I told him that Coti was sleeping and wouldn't be at the house anymore. He said, "I know. I know she died." Emily looked at me for a second and started crying. I came into the room prepared with kleenex so I was ready. Emily had typical 6 year-old questions. Where is she now? Did they bury her? Will they get a new dog? Will it be a little dog? So we talked for a few minutes and she calmed down. I told her she might feel sad again later. I told her if she had any other questions to let me know. She seems fine now but I imagine the next time she goes out to my sister and BIL's house she might feel sad again.

Sarah Palin. The next beer guzzling, daisy duke wearing, halter top sportin' Vice President. Go Junior!

I do not consider myself to be a political person, beyond any means. Nor do I make it a habit to talk politics beyond the general, "I hate Dubya...", "stop shipping jobs overseas...", and "gas is too frickin' high!" I do not know a lot about politics, and perhaps to most people's dismay, I don't really care. I do vote, at least in presidential elections, and I do pay attention to the issues being addressed.

As were a lot of people, I was pretty surprised by John McCain's choice for his VP. I obviously had not been paying attention to the list of possibilities as thrown out by every "expert" on TV, the Internet and print journalism. Quite frankly I didn't really care. I have already made my choice to vote for Obama, however I was someone interested in who McCain was going to pick. When I heard it was a 44 year-old FEMALE Mayor from Alaska I was like, "Uh...what?"

Again, I don't know much about her, I don't really care. Of course like 99% of the country I do know that her 17 year-old daughter is pregnant. I also know that daughter's name is Bristol. Bristol. That alone made me at least look her up in wikipedia and find out the names of her other kids. First, there's Track. That's right, Track. He's the oldest. Then came Bristol. So...Bristol, Track. After Bristol comes Willow. Yeah, that was a great VC Andrews series...Willow. Pretty sure I read it while I was pregnant with one of the kids. Pretty sure it didn't inspire me to name one of my own flesh and blood after the main character. Ok. Next comes Piper Indy. Finally, Mrs. Palin gave birth to her 5th child, just this last April, I might add. He's a cute little bugger. Was diagnosed with Down's Syndrome prenatally. Yeah. He's cute. What? Oh, his name? Trig. Duh! So, NASCAR fans. Let's spell this out in a way you can understand:

Track: a surface to race on
Bristol: a NASCAR track in Bristol, TN
Piper Indy: Piper manufactures airplanes, Indy: Short for Indianapolis Motor Speedway-hosts the Indy 500, IRL (Indy Racing League) and NASCAR Sprint Cup.
Willow: Willow Springs International Raceway--Hosted the first two NASCAR events west of the Mississippi
Trig: Well, she's a fan of guns just like most NASCAR fans are and all guns have triggers. Was that mean? Sorry.

Here's what I want to see. No matter who wins the next election, I want to see Sarah Palin at the very next NASCAR race. I want to see her in a Dale Jr. cut off tank top, daisy dukes and a straw cowboy hat. I want her to have a beer in one hand and her baby in the other. She'll be front and center and the one in front of a microphone shouting, "GENTLEMEN...START...YOUR...ENGINES!"
Then she'll let out a big "WHAAAAAAAHOOOOOOOOO!" Yep. Can't wait.

Stepford Spouses in Training?

Blakey started preschool today. I know, right? Where did that come from? Well I had found a preschool a few months ago that was reasonably priced. It's at a church. I got the application papers and then just kind of spaced off mailing them in until last week. Then I wondered if they even have an opening anymore. So I called. Busy. Called again. Busy. This went on about four more times last week. So I e-mailed. Nothing. Until Sunday afternoon when I finally got an e-mail back. The lady said, yes, we have one opening left, call me tomorrow. So I called, left a message and she called me back in the afternoon. Everything was a go.



Last night on my way home I went to find the place because, being the spectacular parent that I am, I have never even checked this place out. I was planning on doing it last week but, well, you can see how that turned out. Found the place no problem.



So today I take him to his first day. He was sporting his Batman backpack that he had to have when we were buying Emily's school supplies. As I'm parking the car I realize I'm the only one actually driving a CAR. All the rest of the mothers are driving mini-vans. Weird. We go into the church, go downstairs to the pre-k part and there are other moms who apparently had kids enrolled last year b/c they all know each other and they're chatting it up. They're all talking about their homeschooling and how it's going and about MOPS meetings. MOPS is a group of women that meet at the church a couple times a week...month...don't really care. Mothers Of Pre Schoolers. That's what they call themselves. MOPS. I'm just waiting for the invitation. I know it will come. That's when I get to tell them I'm not interested in becoming a Stepford Wife, nor do I want to join a group of mothers and wives that call themselves something that is also a cleaning apparatus. Just let me take and pick up my kid and leave me alone. I thought the invitation was going to come when I went to pick up Blake. One of the moms pointed at me while she was in the middle of a conversation she was having with another mom about MOPS. I thought, "Aw, lord. Here we go." She said, "Your name is Amy?"

"Yeah."

"And this is your son's first year?"

"Yep."

"Was he scared?"
"Heck no. He couldn't wait for me to leave."

(Because I don't produce clingy, crying kids. It's called I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-C-E. Later we can talk about whether I was sad, but Blake, heck no.)

"Wow. Really?"

"Yeah. I told him I was leaving and he said, 'ok.'"



Luckily just then the teacher came out to dismiss the kids. What a relief. I got out of that one. We'll see what happens on Thursday. I may have to fake a bout of diarrhea, run off towards the bathroom, make a left and jump in my car.



They sent home a calendar of some of the topics they'll be talking about this month. On the 18th they'll be talking about the color black and they said the kids can wear black. Well all of Blake's black shirts are not so much appropriate for a church preschool. They're filled with things like guitars, skulls and snarky phrases like, "Lock up your daughters." So while he was in class I headed to Target. There I found the PERFECT shirt. It's a black tshirt with white stitching. It has what looks like a white long sleeve shirt underneath it. In big white block letters across the front it says PRESCHOOL. OMG! I snatched it up, hardly even looking at the size. Then I realized I had a 4T which is what he wears now but a 5T would be better. Luckily they had one. I also immediately called my sister to tell her of my awesome find. Whoohoo! I can't wait for him to wear it. I hope there aren't any Stepford Kids wearing the same shirt on that day.

Also this morning Emily almost missed the bus. We walked out just as the kids were getting on. Emily pointed and shouted, "Oh no!" I said, "Run Emily! Run!" She made it just in time. I asked the one mom who was outside watching my little Forrest Gump try to catch the bus if the bus was early or if my clock was slow. She said there was a note sent home that the bus was coming 5 minutes early now. Never got that note. Our neighbor girl downstairs also didn't get the note and she DID miss the bus. As I was cooking dinner tonight Emily said, "Look at this." Out from her backpack in the little front pocket she produces the note about the bus. It's all folded seven ways to Sunday and looks like it was run over by the bus.

"That would have been nice to know before we got up this morning, Emily."

"I forgoooooot."

Suuuuuuuuure.

Still no RSVP's for Emily's birthday party in 2 weeks. Well, except for the neighbors downstairs. Hopefully the other moms are like me and just keep putting it off or forgetting about it. I did put my email addy in there in case they're also like me and just don't like calling strangers. Hopefully we can get a few of the girls from Em's class to come. She'll be so bummed if they don't!