Never assume anything!

I really put my foot in my mouth at my son's baseball game a couple of weeks ago. I was taking pictures behind the fence along the first base line and there was a man standing beside me taking pictures as well. He was obviously a parent from the opposing team, as he called out to the first baseman, "You forgot your cap!"

So the kid runs back to the dugout to retrieve the baseball cap and returns to first base. I turn to the man and say, "Is she yours?"

The man looks at me and says, "Yes, HE is."

The kid looked just like a girl! He had long, beautiful blonde hair almost halfway down his back. We have a girl on our team, so it's not out of the ordinary to see girls on other teams. I made an assumption, and boy, was I wrong!

I was mortified! I quickly apologized and the man was very nice about it, saying it happens all the time. He said his son was a great kid and didn't give him a minute's trouble and he figured allowing him to grow his hair wasn't such a big deal.

I asked the man if it bothers his son that people sometimes mistake him for a girl and he said it doesn't.

My other son plays on a soccer team with another long-haired boy, who I initially thought was a girl. Luckily I didn't embarrass myself by referring to him as a girl in front of his parents. I think my face is still red from the first encounter.

Sheesh! I didn't know long hair on boys was back in style. I'm going to be walking around in a constant state of confusion. Folks, never assume anything!

The Glory of Spring

Beauty abounds in Northern Virginia! Spring blooms are simply everywhere I look. I've seen breathtaking azalea bushes, exquisite tulips and iris, pristine dogwood and redbud trees, all ablaze with amazing color. Spring has definitely sprung here and it's truly picturesque. I've snapped a few photos of God's gift of nature, some taken in our neighborhood and others at our church...



















Now... here's what's blooming at my house...


It's really something, right? And guess what? I didn't even have to plant this. It came up all on it's own!

Inspiration and Tears

Yesterday was a very emotional day for me at church. Of course the older I get, the less it takes for me to cry. Is that hormones or what? I don't know. All I know is I definitely shouldn't leave home without tissues.

A sweet lady in our church passed away last week. She was only in her early 60s and although we knew she was quite ill, it still seemed a shock when we heard the news that she had died. Miss B's husband and daughters were at church yesterday, and her husband even served in his usual role of usher, which I thought was incredibly sweet and brave, and not at all something I would have expected. Tears sprang to my eyes when I saw him walk down the aisle and begin to pass the offering plate. I felt inspired by his presence, and especially by his courage.

Miss B had been a member of the church choir and they honored her memory yesterday by leaving her robe and stole on her empty chair. I thought it was incredibly thoughtful and meaningful. Once again, I felt tears well up in my eyes, and thought to myself, "How can the choir possibly sing today after this loss?" But they did sing and I was inspired.

The kids' choir sang yesterday as well. They're preparing for an upcoming musical and were giving the congregation a sample of what they'll be hearing in a few weeks. My boys sing in the choir, so that's part of the reason I felt the tears come to the surface once again. But I think I would have been emotional regardless of whose kids were singing because there's just something so moving about hearing kids sing anything, but particularly when they sing God's praises. They stood up in front of our congregation and just belted out that song and it was awesome and yes, inspirational.

Inspiration and tears were definitely the theme yesterday, at least for me anyway. I know I wasn't alone though. There were lots of other misty eyes around me. I'm thinking it might be a good idea for the church greeters to start handing out travel packs of tissues along with bulletin, especially on those Sundays like yesterday.

So which is it?

You know how you hear phrases over and over and it just becomes second nature to hear them after a while? Today I was listening to the radio while running errands and I caught part of a conversation, one that I wasn't really paying a lot of attention to, until I heard a guy say, "I could care less about..."

That got me to thinking about the use of that particular phrase. Now I'm supposing when people say, "I could care less," what they really mean to convey is that they don't care. Is that what you would take away from a conversation in which someone has made the statement, "I could care less"?

So... if you don't care, shouldn't you say "I COULDN'T care less"? I mean, that would indicate that you couldn't care any less than you do at that moment in time. Doesn't that make more sense? If you say, "I could care less," that indicates you COULD possibly care less than you currently do, which means you DEFINITELY care, right? Over-analyzation? Hmmm... maybe, but it's one of those things that bugs me. Which is the correct way to say this phrase? Inquiring minds wanna know!

Awesome Field Trip!

My son and I enjoyed our tour of the White House during his recent class field trip, just one of the many perks of living near our nation's capitol.

Drama

Last night my older son had a Boy Scout Troop meeting, his second since bridging from Cub Scouts to Boy Scouts a couple of weeks ago. The troop met at a local recreation facility to complete a swim test, which is a requirement of all the boys who wish to participate in an upcoming campout/rafting trip.

Of course I'm thrilled to be going to the recreation center because we've already been to baseball practice for my other kid for an hour and a half, now it's 7:30pm and this swim test is supposed to last until 9pm. Oh joy! And the reason I'm there and not at home is because my husband is out of town again this week. Really, I'm going to have to have a talk with the military powers that be and tell them that this hectic TDY schedule is seriously cramping my style and something needs to be done about it. Yeah, I know, I'm not actually going to do that. I'm going to suck it up like any other self-respecting military spouse and I'm going to take my kid to Boy Scouts.

Upon arriving at the recreation center, I quickly realized there was NO parking to be found. The place was absolutely crawling with people. Oh joy! I dropped off the big man at the door, told him to go in and try to find out where he was supposed to go and that his brother and I would catch up to him. Then I went to search for parking, finally choosing to park in the field where others had blazed a trail before me.

Okay, did I mention this place was CRAWLING with people? The Scouts were there, and boy howdy, were there LOTS of them! Then there were the numerous people on hand for various classes - water aerobics, kids' swim class, free swimmers, a music class, people on treadmills.... You get the picture. You couldn't stir the people with a stick because there were so many of them! I'm glad I'm not claustrophic.

My son found a couple of former Cub Scout buddies and waited in the registration line with them. Things seemed somewhat unorganized. No one appeared to know what was going on. Registration was finally finished and my younger son and I joined a group of parents waiting in the bleacher section of the pool area. Obviously it's an indoor pool and it's hot and humid in there. My hair and makeup quickly began to take a nasty turn for the worse. Trust me, it wasn't pretty.

I was sitting in the bleachers, making small talk with some other parents, when a couple of my son's friends came running up the stairs, showing us their bandaged fingers, telling us they'd been cut while using a bamboo pole to simulate aiding a drowning swimmer. They tell me that my son got the worst cut of all, that his whole hand was sliced open and I was needed at the front desk, as were all of the parents whose kids had been cut. Evidently an incident report had to be to filled out for each boy and they were required to inform the parents.

My son's hand was all bandaged by the time I made it to the front desk. The young girl taking care of him said it was a long cut, but not deep, therefore he wouldn't require stitches. However, it was still bleeding a little when he made it to the office for first aid. She didn't think it wise for him to get back in the pool at that point. The chlorine would only aggravate the wound she said. One of the other parents asked if the folks conducting the swim test were still using the same bamboo pole and the consensus was yes, they were in fact still using the same bamboo pole. HELLO! People, three kids have been cut with this thing. Don't you think you might want to discontinue use of it for the remainder of the night?

At least we didn't have to make a trip to the ER at 9pm last night, and for that I'm grateful. When we finally got into our truck and were heading home, my older son was quite preoccuped with his injured hand while the younger one was very concerned about how his brother was going to manage to take a shower in this delicate condition. I explained that we'd use a rubber glove with a rubber band around the wrist to keep the water out, after having been told not to get the bandage wet. Well... the bandage got wet and we ended up having to redo everything.

So I missed American Idol last night due to our trip to the pool, but I figure it's all for the best. I don't think I could have handled more drama.

Daytime thunderstorms only, please!

Yesterday we had lots of rain with intermittent thunderstorms, which I occasionally enjoy very much. When it rains like it was raining yesterday, activities move indoors and sometimes events are cancelled, like my son's soccer game which was supposed to be a makeup from a previously rained out game (That game may never be played at this rate!). Sometimes it's just nice not having anywhere to go, especially when we're on the go seemingly every night of the week. We had a very low-key day and I loved every minute of it.

Like I said, the rain was enjoyable during the day, however, I would have preferred it, as well as the thunder and lightening, to have stopped during the night. I was sound asleep when, at midnight, my 8-year-old came into my bedroom and touched my leg without saying a word, and scared me senseless. I bolted upright in bed saying, "What? What? What's the matter?" I thought perhaps he'd gotten sick or something. It was the storm keeping him awake.

He has a twin bed, which doesn't give us a lot of room to snuggle, and since my husband is out of town, I told the little man to crawl into bed with me. Let me just say that I've had zero sleep and I'm a walking zombie today. I'm so doggone T-I-R-E-D! My sweet boy had me hugging the edge of the bed all night long. My back aches from the bony knees stuck in it for hours. I may seriously require traction or, at the very least, a deep tissue massage.

Yep, I love a good thunderstorm, but only during the daytime!

A sporting chance...

Yesterday was all about sports for our family. Our youngest son had a baseball game at 8:30 in the morning, which frankly isn't a nice thing to do to to families on a Saturday morning. Normally the kids have to be at the field an hour or so prior to the start of the game for batting and infield practice, but since our coach is a nice guy and a parent himself, he took pity on the kids (and their parents) and only made us show up a half hour prior. Thanks, coach!

I have to go a little further in my praise of our coach to say what a caring, patient person he is. One of our players got hit in the neck with a ball that hit the ground and popped up. The kid managed to pick up the ball and throw it to first base, but afterward he was really in pain. The coach called time and went out onto the field and actually sat down in the infield with this kid and helped him catch his breath and made sure he was okay before play resumed. All the other players on our team were instructed to take a knee until the kid was ready to get up. The coach just took his time and gave his full attention to the injured player, not worrying about anything else but him. I thought it was awesome, and it made for the sweetest picture, so I took a couple, but won't show them here for privacy reasons.

My son played a good game, getting three hits and making it around all of the bases and to home plate for a scored run, something he'd been hoping to do. He played both pitcher and catcher yesterday and he really likes catcher. Check him out...




This is the "donuts after the game reaction."
















Our team won the game 18-2, which was unbelievable, especially considering the beating we took last weekend. Just goes to show you that any team is capable of winning just as any team is capable of losing. I will say it's much more fun to win.

We had a little break to catch our breath before our oldest son's soccer game in the afternoon. It was his first soccer game and he really enjoyed it. I don't know squat about soccer, that fact already having been established a few posts ago, but I was getting into it yesterday. I couldn't tell if my son knew what he was doing or not because I'm ignorant about the game, but at least he was in the middle of the action and trying his best. He was exhausted afterwards too, and I understand why. There's SO MUCH running and very little down time during the game. I was exhausted just watching the kids play.




His team lost 3-2, but I must say, it was incredibly exciting for me. Maybe by the end of the season, I'll know a thing or two about the game. There may be hope for me yet.

He's Growing Up

My oldest son is growing up entirely too fast. We have this discussion all the time and I always tell him he's not allowed to grow anymore, that he must stay this size and age forever, but he continues to disobey and just keeps growing and maturing. Need proof? He became a Boy Scout last week. How's that for disobedience? What am I going to do with that boy?

It feels as if I've blinked and this little boy became a young man. He's 11 years old and he's intelligent, articulate, imaginative, empathetic, energetic, witty and so much more. My oldest kiddo knows so much more than I did at his age. He's growing up in the computer era, and schools are teaching kids more at a younger age. He's doing math in the 5th grade that I didn't do until high school! I'm so impressed with his level of knowledge and understanding.

There's the serious side of my son and then there's the goofball, fun-loving side as well. He knows how to have fun and his laughter is absolutely infectious. My mom frequently talks about how much she loves the laughter of my boys when we visit them, and how much she misses it when the boys are gone. I love that my kids are happy, carefree and content to just be kids and live in the moment.

I think about the many moves my son has endured as our family continues to lead this somewhat nomadic military lifestyle, and how he's always accepted whatever situation he's faced with and never given us a moment's trouble. It's just the kind of kid he is. His dad and I give credit to God for giving him courage and strength to face new situations.

This boy of mine is knowledgeable about the Bible and has the ability to apply Christian principles to his own life. We've been blessed with some awesome kids' programs in the various churches we've attended over the years. While I loved the church I grew up in, I don't think children's Christian education was particularly emphasized. It's amazing to me what kids can comprehend, accept and apply in the way of Christian faith. My son is learning what it means to live his life for the Lord and nothing makes me happier than knowing Jesus lives in his heart. I pray he'll continue to walk in this path and allow Jesus to guide him in every aspect of his life.
My big man is thoughtful of other kids, particularly younger kids. There are kids at church and at the ballfield who flock to him when they see him. They know he'll play with them and allow them to crawl and climb on him. He's gentle with the little people, even when they're not so gentle with him. I guess that comes from having a younger brother, who, by the way, adores his older brother. The little guy would be lost without his older brother. They're the best of buddies. Makes me dread the day the big man flies out of our nest.
Thankfully we have a few years before our oldest leaves us to find his way in the world. In the meantime, I plan on enjoying this time, watching him learn to fly a little higher with each passing day. I'm intrigued by his metamorphosis, changing and growing and learning, right before my eyes. What a privilege it is to be his mother!

Who are you and what have you done with my son?

My 2nd grade son brought home an art/writing project from school last week. Evidently this was something his class did around St. Patrick's Day because it's green, has shamrocks on it, along with the caption "I am lucky because....." Don't you think I'm extremely clever to have figured this out all on my own? I know, I amaze myself sometimes.

Anyway, there were small shamrocks with various "half sentences" where the kids had to fill in the blanks to complete the sentences. I was amused and confused upon reading a couple of these. Here's a sampling of what I read, followed by my own personal thoughts in parentheses.

"A great thing about me is ..... I am very good at math."
(What? He's a decent math student, but he's no whiz. He's got confidence though; I'll give him that!)

"My hobbies are ..... working in school and doing homework."
(What? Who are you trying to impress? And those aren't hobbies, but I'll remember you said this when you're bored with nothing to do!)

"I am lucky because..... I have a brother and he is very nice to me. He shares his stuff."
(Awwwww! This one is true and warms my heart.)

Baseball "Bats"

My youngest son is playing baseball for the "Bats" this season and he's really having fun. First of all, it's a cool logo those Louisville Bats have, and we're all about looking good.
Second of all, the purple uniform shirts seem to attract positive attention, and we like that too. And third... the little man has been hitting the ball well (3 base hits last night) and playing some pretty good defense (catching a line drive while playing pitcher as well as throwing a kid out at 1st).
Now, that's not to say we haven't had some drama along the way. Two days ago our team lost 18-5 (No, that's not a typo... they really lost 18-5!) and my little man was heartbroken over having been tagged out at first because he thought he'd hit a foul ball and didn't run. Oh boy, that was an emotional experience! There were even a few tears shed over that one and you know there's no crying in baseball! Now he knows to run no matter what. Nothing like learning the hard way, huh? At least you never forget those lessons learned the hard way.
Our team mom introduced a lot of us team parents to a neat idea. In order to raise money for the end-of-the-season party, we all put a quarter in a huge coffee can every time one of our players gets a base hit. She said the team her son played on last season earned nearly $500 to use toward their party. The kids are so excited to know we're doing this and they all want to know how much money is in the can after every game.
We're on a team with a bunch of nice kids and parents, which makes sitting out in the wind, rain and cold so much more bearable. Of course that doesn't mean I don't still complain about having to sit in the wind, rain and cold. I always have that option, that is until it gets smokin' hot outside and then I'll be griping about the heat and humidity.

Nothing is easy...

Why do things have to be so complicated at times? Things that seem so obviously easy and simple somehow manage to become so very complicated in my world. Please allow me to elaborate, and then you make me feel better by telling me I'm not alone in my frustration and mental anguish over what SHOULDN'T be a big deal.

We recently bought a few new pieces of furniture to include a sofa, love seat (Yes, they still make those!), recliner and a dining room table. Everything was delivered and looked to be in pristine condition, however, we later discovered a 2-inch rip in one of the seams of the sofa, so we called the company to report the damaged piece. They have a process they must go through which meant a repair person would come to inspect the sofa and determine if it could be repaired onsite or if the company would need to replace the sofa. We should have just asked for a new sofa.

The repairman showed up and determined he could fix the ripped seam on the spot, so he did... sort of. I'm sure he did the best job he could do, but the rip was in an awkward location on the sofa and his sewing was NOT pretty, and there was still a hole large enough to poke your finger through when he was finished. I could have done a better job myself! I smiled politely at the guy, sent him on his way and then waited for my husband to come home that night just to see his reaction. Let's just say he wasn't impressed either. Now we're in wait mode for another sofa to be delivered. At least we can sit on the one that remains in the house until the new one arrives.

We also forgot to include a table pad for the new table when we were placing our initial order. I called back to the store to inquire about ordering this extra item and was told there were MANY, MANY options for table pads and we needed to come back to the store to choose one. Good grief, it's a table pad! If I'm using a table pad, I'm going to be using a tablecloth to cover it up, so no one will ever see the table pad. Why does it matter? We went back to the store to choose our table pad.

Our youngest son is playing baseball in the same league he played in last spring. The parents on each team are required to work at least one shift in the concession stand during the season. It's actually rather fun, but this time we were given a choice between two dates, neither of which work well for us as a family because my husband was scheduled to be out of town for both dates. Usually one of us works while the other one watches the boys. That wouldn't be possible under the circumstances. There is an option of hiring a teenager to work your scheduled time, and I decided to do this because it made more sense than hiring a babysitter just so I can go work the concession stand at the baseball park. I made arrangements to hire the teenager and my husband found out he's not going to be out of town after all.

Monday the boys were out of school for a teacher work day. A friend invited them to a birthday party at a swim club quite a distance from our house. We went, but knew we'd probably have to leave early because one of my boys had a baseball game and the other one had soccer practice. I packed up our vehicle with all the necessary clothing items in the event that we got caught in traffic and needed to go straight to the ballfield. I packed drinks and snacks and everything but the kitchen sink. We went to the party, left early as planned, and found out on the way home that both the game and practice were cancelled due to wet field conditions. I'd jumped through hoops for nothing.

We ordered a cake for a Scout bridging ceremony. I'd placed the order at a nearby grocery store bakery a few days ago, but experienced a slight language barrier with the lady working in the bakery. She wasn't the actual cake decorator either, so I didn't feel the least bit confident that she understood my request, so I later called to confirm the order with the cake decorator herself. This lady informed me they could only make my picture (one of those edible images) a particular size on the cake and blah, blah, blah... I had to cancel my order and go somewhere else with only two days before the event. I experienced another slight language barrier (It must be my southern accent) with the folks at the second bakery and while I'm a little more confident in their ability to understand my request, I'm not at all sure what that cake is going to look like when I pick it up at noon today. This could be a blog-worthy experience in and of itself.

Do you see what I'm talking about here? Why can't things just be simple and uncomplicated? Is it me? Does anyone else have these issues, issues that aren't that big of a deal until they all start adding up? SERENITY NOW!

Hoodies R Us!

My kids have lots of hoodies. They love those things! I like 'em too because I know they're comfortable and warm and they can make a personal statement, but I don't think any wardrobe needs as many hoodies as we have in this house.

Sidebar: Did you ever even hear the word "hoodie" until a couple of years or so ago? I mean, when I was growing up, the words we used for this particular article of clothing were "hooded sweatshirt." It took me a while to understand what a hoodies was. I thought it might be something to adorn the hood of a car or perhaps it was meant to reference a bad-news kid (You know, a "hoodlum," which is often shortened to "hood.") Of course I've gotten with the program and now understand what a hoodie is.

Okay, back to the overabundance of hoodies in my kids' possession... One of the boys actually has more than the other because he has a serious addiction to hoodies and simply needs more and more all the time. I'll just list his hoodies here because I can...

1) red fleece (hand-me-down from his brother)

2) black/royal blue Under Armour (HIGHLY COVETED!)

3) University of Kentucky (A gift from my family, meant to aggravate my husband who is a University of North Carolina fan)

4) Another University of Kentucky (If it worked the first time, it might work a second time!)

5) Red Sox (All men in my home love this team!)

6) Air Force (It's our livelihood, therefore we must honor it!)

7) Keeneland (A horse racing course in Lexington, Kentucky, and also pictured below. Funny thing about this hoodie is that it's pale blue in color, making it appear to be a Carolina hoodie at first glance, until you see the big K-E-E-N-E-L-A-N-D across the front and then my husband knows it's yet ANOTHER Kentucky hoodie.)

8) PromisedLand (A bluegrass gospel quartet we recently heard at church)

Do you think this boy of mine will ever wear any of these hoodies out before he outgrows them? I think not. He's all about the hoodie though! I suppose there are worse addictions to have.

And cloning isn't a good idea because...?

Spring sports have started and we've only had a handful of practices and one game and I've decided cloning of myself is going to be absolutely necessary to get through the season.

We've got one kid playing soccer (We've already discussed that, but I'm happy to report he's LOVIN' it!) and another one playing baseball. Admittedly, I know nothing about soccer because I didn't even know what soccer was when I was growing up. Seriously! Where I come from, we had the big three - baseball, basketball and football. Our school actually had both a golf and tennis team, but they were well hidden secrets. So soccer is almost difficult for me to watch because I don't understand the different positions with the exception of the goalie of course. I'm trying to be a supportive parent though, but I can't help teach the kid anything about a game I know zero about myself.

And let's face it... baseball just takes over your life. It's a total time sump! I enjoy going and at least I understand the game, but a game is seemingly an eternity from start to finish. First of all, you've got to have your player there in time for batting practice prior to the game, which can sometimes be an hour or so beforehand because both teams have to practice. The games NEVER start on time. I don't know why. I just know they don't. The games last either 6 innings or an hour and 30 minutes, whichever comes first, unless there is a tie and we have to go into extra innings. It ends up being at least a 3-hour event before it's all said and done.

Sitting outside watching my children play sports when it's 40 degrees, windy and rainy to boot, is what I enjoy most on any given day, how 'bout you? Why is it that March was warmer, less windy and less rainy than April? I know all about the "April showers bring May flowers" deal, but I thought April was at least supposed to be a bit warmer than March. What's up with that? I'm freezing my keister off here! Surely my kids have to know that I love them immensely to be willing to sit in the cold to watch them play sports.

Saturday is going to be interesting and challenging. See if you can help me figure out how to get everyone where they need to be at the right time and not lose my mind. There is a bright side in that the events are over by noon. That's really only a small consolation. Here's our schedule...

8:00am - Baseball Pictures
8:45am - Soccer Pictures
9:30am 'til noon - Kids' Choir Rehearsal
9:30am - Baseball Game
10:30am - Soccer Game

Something's gotta give this Saturday and we have to decide what it's going to be. I hate for the kids to miss out on a game because they enjoy playing and they're part of a team, and we're of the belief that when you commit yourself to being part of a team, you owe it to your coaches and teammates to be there. Then again, both kids have speaking parts in the upcoming kids' choir musical at church and they need to rehearse. We can't let down the rest of the cast, right? What to do? I don't know if you see any possible way of working this out short of cloning myself as well as the kids, and you and I know that isn't going to happen. I frankly think cloning is okay in certain situations, and this qualifies for one of those certain situations, don't you think?

Pound Cake

I made my first-ever pound cake last week (I know, can you believe I'd never made one before now?) and I'll have to say that it was both easy to do and absolutely fabulous. Yes, I'm shamelessly bragging and I know it and don't care. It's THAT good!

Of course I have a whole new appreciation for and understanding of the name "POUND cake" because I have come to know that it can add some serious pounds to my backside. I can't stay away from it once I know it's in the house. Folks, in case you didn't comprehend my meaning before, allow me to repeat myself... It's THAT good!

The recipe I used is my husband's grandmother's recipe. I never knew this wonderful woman because she passed away before I entered the picture. My mother-in-law gave me the recipe a few months ago, after I'd made mention that I LOVED it more than my children (Well, not that much, but doggone close!) when she and her sister made me one for my birthday.

I've known this recipe was precious, sacred and invaluable to my mother-in-law's family, and I never actually expected anyone to share the recipe with me. After all, I'm an in-law, right? But my mother-in-law evidently has welcomed me into the inner sanctum. I'm having flashbacks from the movie "Meet the Parents" when Ben Stiller's character realizes the importance of the "circle of trust." I feel as if I've been given the big "thumbs up" and now I'm considered one of the clan. Okay, so it only took me nearly 13 years of marriage to get there, but by golly, I'm there! I'm there!

And if you think I'm going to share that recipe, you can just dream on. Never! I don't want to risk being shunned by the family. I don't know what other recipes they may be holding back, waiting to make sure I've proven myself worthy before they pass them along to me. Nope, sorry, I just can't risk it. Hey, it's THAT good!

I'm going to the big house!

That's right, I'm going to the big house. No, no, not PRISON! I'm going to the WHITE HOUSE!

Remember me going on and on about hoping to be chosen as a chaperone for my boys' upcoming classroom field trips? I'm in! I'm going with my older son's class. And I'm excited that school personnel have asked parents to send students to school in "appropriate" attire for the day. My oldest has zero desire to dress up, but he'll do it for church when we beg. This time I'm not the person making him dress up, which therefore releases me from responsibility, and delights me in the process. He won't be going to the White House looking like something the cat dragged in, even though we don't have a cat.

I wasn't, however, chosen to go along with my younger son's class on their upcoming field trip to the White House. I just can't understand it either. Perhaps it was my overzealousness. I only emailed the teacher 12 times, sent in 5 notes and called her at home twice. It's not like I was stalking her! I don't know why she'd think that.