Catching Up

No, I haven't abandoned my blog.  I keep meaning to post, but honestly, there hasn't been much to write about.  We've had a lot going on, but the entertainment value of it all isn't very high, so I've kind of been hoping something funny would happen, so I'd have an interesting topic.  No such luck, so you are stuck with a "catching up" type post.

Saturday was the annual school carnival.  In addition to the carnival style games and crafts that they usually have, the auxilary gym was set up with inflatables this year.  Having already spent most of their tickets on the games, my kids only had enough tickets left for one inflatable.  The jousting game caught our attention first.  On top of a flat, square inflatable were two pedestals where kids stand with stuffed, long stuffed sticks and try to knock their opponent off their pedestal. My kids really wanted to do this, and I thought it would be fun for them, too.  I mean, really, what Mom doesn't want to see their kids take a few whacks at each other in a controlled environment? (Just me? Really?! Huh.) Unfortunately, my son wasn't old enough to play, so we decided to find something they could both do.  Our attention turned to a long caterpillar inflatable-I snickered to myself when I saw it.  Not because the caterpillar was wearing socks and tennis shoes on it's many feet, but because the caterpillar had......... a butt.  With butt cheeks hat the children crawl out from between as they exit the caterpillar tunnel! For real! For some reason it struck me as really funny, although none of the other parents seemed to be amused.  (That happens to me a lot.) My children paid their tickets and crawled through the caterpillar's mouth, as I stationed myself with my camera poised to take their pictures as they came out the end.  A dad waiting for his kid gave me a funny look-I'm not sure why.  How can a person NOT take a photo of their child being pooped out of a caterpillar?  I'd post the pictures, but they didn't come out very well. Good times.

On Sunday, I got to have a "Mom's Afternoon Out".  My work friends and I went to see Footloose at the dinner theater.  I have to confess that I am one of the few 30-somethings in the world who has never seen the movie, but the show was enjoyable.  The cast did a good job, but it was kind of hard to pretend that the women in their 30's and 40's were teenaged girls, and Rand (who was probably about 30, too) seemed like he was more interested in boys than girls, so his character wasn't very believable as the cool, ladies man, either.  Still, it was fun to watch, and I'm anxious to go back in a month or so when they perform Hello Dolly, and again in the summer with my daughter to see High School Musical.

After the fun of the weekend, Monday and Tuesday were a blur, as I was busy back at work.  Yesterday, I had to go to the Lady Parts Doctor, which is never fun anyhow, but even less so this time, since I found out that I will need to have a "procedure" soon.  It's really not a huge deal, but there is a (very) small cause for concern, so I was pretty anxious.  I realized something about myself yesterday-when I'm worried about something, I tend to downplay it to others when I talk about it, so that they won't worry, too.  I don't really know if it's because I honestly don't want them to be afraid, or if it's because *I* need them to not be worried, so that I will be able to feel more confident myself. I'm not a very strong person, so the latter is likely the real reason. I gave it all over to God last night, and I'm actually not worried at all about it today-it's so relieving to be able to just lay it down at His feet.  Typically, when I "give" something to God, I tend to keep trying to "take" it back, but this hasn't happened yet.  Someone is obviously praying for me.  I know it probably sounds corny and trite, but yesterday my prayer was "Jesus, hold my hand", and He really is.  faith is a wonderful thing.

I know, the picture doesn't have anything to do with my post. It's my son yesterday at Cub Scouts.

The "Bethmobile"

Having never owned a brand new vehicle, I've driven many a...ummmm...."quirky" car.  My current vehicle is a seven year old minivan that makes several embarrassing noises when I turn or stop.  Rattles, whines, and when it's damp and cool (which seems like about 75% of the year here!), it shreiks. Fun.

My first car, in 1992,  was a 1980 Thunderbird. I would love to own a current model Thunderbird, they are sporty and cute, and awesome.  Likewise, are the earliest Thunderbird models from the 50's.  However, there was a long stretch of time where the Thunderbird was less sporty and cute, and more serviceable, and.....boatlike.  The '80 Thunderbird looked like the quintessential "Granparent" car.  In fact, it was my Grandma's car-my parents bought it from her for me to drive. That is not my car in the picture, mine was a darker, very faded, maroon.  I drove it to school my Senior year of high school, and even though it was decidedly uncool, I was glad to not be riding the bus, finally.  I had Cadet Teaching for my last class of the day, and I would have to leave my class before about 15 minutes early, just so I could warm up my car.  In the Springtime. When it was warm out.  Mmmmmmhmmmmm.  Otherwise, it would die 4-5 times as I backed up.  On days when I didn't have Cadet Teaching, kids behind me would be honking their horns as I stopped and started all the way out of the parking lot. Ahhhh...good times. 

Actually, lots of good times were had in that car, most of them innocent(ish).  One good thing about  the cars from this era, were the size of the engines.  This baby had a v8 engine-something that no 17 year old with a brand new license really needs.  I used to tear around on the back roads flooring this monster.  (Oh, the foolishness of youth!) The shocks were usually busted (you'll see why, soon enough!), so whenever it hit a bump, the car would kind of rock back and forth several times.  My best friend, Angel,  and I thought it was great fun to hit bumps on purpose to make the car sway.  Hey, we had nothing else to do, and no money other than the $5 we'd put in the gas tank.  She was the pastor's daughter, and I was a good, church-going kid, so this was pretty much the most rebellious we ever got.  Angel was the friend who dubbed my car the Bethmobile, and it stuck.

Around here, there used to be lots of railroad tracks.  Many of them were pulled up in the early nineties, leaving only the built up enbankments across the road where the track used to be.  I would be screaming down a country road, windows down, radio blasting the Black Crowes, or whatever, and hit one of these embankments doing about 60.  (I was stupid, I know!)  We were always thrilled when the car would catch a little air, and then land, rocking back and forth somewhat violently for the next couple of minutes.  Of course, you know we had to let out a couple Dukes of Hazard style "Yeeeee-haaaaawwws!" during the action.  We were dorks, what can I say? I knocked off many a tailpipe this way.  ("I don't know HOW it happened, Dad!")   I have a feeling that my Dad *did* have an idea of how I kept knocking off tailpipes, but to my memory, I don't think he ever complained.

This was the car the that same friend and I would take to the drive in. One evening, we decided that we wanted to see what the big deal with smoking was.  We had no intention of taking up smoking, but we were dying to try it.  It was an experiment, really. She was already 18, so she bought the cigarettes at a Clark gas station, after a very long time spent working up her nerve.  (She was a pastor's kid, remember?)  She dragged me in with her, and we felt like everyone was starring at us.  Guilty much? Actually, they probably were, we both looked more like 14 year olds than 17 and 18.  Anyhow, we bought the cigarettes, and drove off to the old Clermont Deluxe drive-in.  At dusk, we rolled down the windows and lit up, thinking we were hot stuff.  We both expected that we would be coughing, gagging, getting sick, or whatever, since we had never smoked before.  When that didn't happen, we both thought we were pretty cool, and we wondered to each other what the big deal was.  It wasn't until a couple of years later that I realized that we hadn't been inhaling properly-that's why we didn't get chocked up.  See? We were so non-rebellious that we couldn't even smoke correctly!

Lots of sunny, summer days were spent driving around in this car.  Heading to church youth group trips, going on dates (very few of those for me, LOL), driving friends to basketball games, or just going nowhere, burning gas for the heck of it.  While I'm glad that I no longer have that car (it was such an ugly mess!), I'll always remember it fondly. RIP Bethmobile, in whatever junkyard you now make your home. 

What was your first car? What memories do you associate with it?

For the record, I am now a very cautious, responsible driver, and have remained a non-smoker, LOL!

Car picture came from here: http://www.albeedigital.com/supercoupe/articles/tbird_history.html

The Breakfast of Champions (if by "Champions" you mean kinda chubby, mostly sedentary, Moms)

This is the breakfast that says "I give up.  Maybe.  Sort of."  Kind of like when I order my coffee with skim milk, and then add whipped cream, or when I order a cheeseburger and fries with a Diet Coke.  What's the point?  One make me feel better about the other, I suppose.
In my defense, I didn't eat the whole box of cookies-I've got to save some for tomorrow!
(By the way, these are the *best* Girl Scout Cookies!)