Swim Team

May and June around here means swim team. The three lovelies all swim on the team. They practice at 3 different times 4 days a week and then swim in meets almost every Saturday. Yes, that is 6 trips up and back to the pool which luckily is a half mile from our house. It is a huge time commitment and a lot of fun (or so I keep trying to convince myself). We have had two meets this season. Our goal for the girls is just to swim faster each time they race. I am proud to report that last Saturday they did just that!!!

For those of you who do not live in the great state of Texas, it RAINED buckets and buckets and stopped and then rained buckets and buckets again last Saturday and the meet continued. We all huddled in our EZTent city(thank you Sarah for lending me yours) and tried to endure the mud and the wet. It was tough to stay positive and focused. There is a lot of skill in swimming some of the strokes "clean." For example, when you swim breast stroke your fingers have to stay together and your hands cannot come below your waist. You also need to turn your toes out. I had no idea. There is a lot to remember, oh and do it all as fast as you can while you hold your breath. Don't tell my kids, but there is no way I could do it. Some times CB's warm ups are 200s (8 laps) just to warm up. : )

Mother's Day

A book I was reading recently said, "If you want to get to understand any woman you must first ask about her mother and then listen carefully." If you asked, I would first say that my mom had the bluest eyes. My sister got those and as a child I was so jealous and would have gladly traded my dog-pooh brown, as I called them for hers. My mother also loved to have fun. She worked hard to make simple things special, but the most important thing I would tell you about my mother is that she loved me. I have come to realize that loving me and believing me was the very best thing she could have ever done for me. Sure I wish that she had taught me how to make her famous pies and breads. Sometimes I am mad that she did not teach me more about parenting and being a wife or surviving loss, but ultimately she loved me and really isn't that what being a good mother is all about.

Honestly, I really hate Mother's Day. I feel some of you rolling your eyes, but this is my blog so if it bugs you don't read it: ). It is a holiday that I really don't understand. As a child I remember feeing this weird disconnect about it. Shouldn't we treat our mother's well all of the time and if mom's love their kids so much, why do they want the day off? As an adult I have struggled with what exactly I am supposed to do on mother's day. It seems like I should want to be surrounded by my children and bask in the glory of my life's work, but honestly, I would love to just hide in my room. And then there is the added stress of having my own mother gone. Plus it is Sunday and inevitably a time for guilt and reflection of missed chances and falling short of the mark. I wont't even mention the hub's total lack of enthusiasm about any holiday.

So this year I tried hard to quiet the negative and just BE with my children and it was better. My goal for next year is to plan a fun day with my daughters after all, if it wasn't for them I wouldn't be Mother and honestly, aren't they amazing...

Warning: this one is sad

Ox died on Tuesday. If you know me, you know that I am married to a dog person. the Hub loves dogs. When we got married he told me that he had always wanted an English bulldog and so 8 years ago we bought one. Oxford, was the cutest, silliest puppy. When we went to buy him he was running around the breeder's hotel room with a trash can turned upside down on his head. He had 6 brothers and one sister and he was definitely the life of the party. It was love at first sight for the Hub. Ox became an instant member of the family.

J and Cam cannot remember a time without him. We are all so sad. The house seems empty today. I am just so used to him laying in the same room with me snoring away. When the girls are at school he is my constant companion. I felt some measure of safety with him here because he was big and scary looking. The truth was he was more likely to lick you and lay on your feet than bite or bark. He was such a good dog. Low key and obedient. Always there for a love or a listening ear. It may sound odd, but I feel a strange debt of gratitude to Ox because he loved my children and hub so much and in a more unconditional way than I have ever been able to. We will miss him.

Fingerprints

(My blog coach assures me that this little story will be a good post. You be the judge.)

As some of you know, I have decided to apply to substitute teach next year. In case you have not heard completing the application process requires many, many steps and in the words of my neighbor, a PhD in paperwork. So I have been to the training, filled out all of the paper work, gotten all of the references, and jumped through all of the required hoops except one: fingerprinting. The state of Texas has decided that every employee working in a public school be fingerprinted. (I was actually a little shocked that this is a new law. This seems like kind of a no-brainer to me).

Anyway, so I go to get fingerprinted at some random sub contractor required by the district. I get there and all is going so well. I can almost see the light at the end of this process. My name is called. I smile for the picture, give them my forms, and put my fingers down on the scanner. And then the fingerprinter gasps, "um do you work with acid on a daily basis, " she asks. I smile, thinking she is joking. She looks at me now with a totally serious face. "I am sorry, you have no fingerprints."

How is this possible? After the initial shock the printer explains that you can literally wear your prints off of your fingers. She tells me that cleaning without gloves my be the problem or working with acetone or using foot scrubs or ex-foliating creams. She asked me repeatedly if I had burned my fingers or worked constantly with acid. I know she thinks I am lying when I deny heavy acid usage. So for the first time in my life I get a 30%, only 3 of my fingers have viable prints.

The fingerprinter tried over and over again rolling my fingers back and forth across the scanner. When all 10 were done the computer classified my prints as "amputee." Crazy!!! I knew I was thin skinned, but this is ridiculous. I guess there is an upside, if the whole subbing thing doesn't work out I can always work as a thief. No prints, as long as I don't use my thumbs, I am untraceable.