Wednesday, October 17, 2012

A Day in the Life...

I’ve seen several blogs recently that have “A Day in the Life” themed posts.  So, I felt inspired. I know I haven’t written in a long time.  When you read below you will see that I am usually too busy eating bons bons and watching my soaps to get around to it.  

I kid.

So, here’s my day.  Now, this isn’t necessarily a typical day, because Hayes only goes to Mother’s Day Out on Tuesdays and when he’s home, that changes things.

Anyway, here’s today:

7:20:  My alarm goes off.  Andy is in the room getting dressed, and I tell him to give me five more minutes before he sends Bella in to get her hair fixed.  I put a pillow over my head and go back to sleep.  (Bella was already getting dressed at this time.  I lay her clothes out the night before and Andy wakes her up, because I am not a morning person and he is a saint.)

7:30-Bella comes in to get her hair done.  I do a decent job, while wearing my bathrobe and rubbing my eyes.

8:00-I kiss Andy and Bella bye.  I then pour myself a cup of coffee, which Andy made (SAINT) and sit on the couch to drink it by myself in the blessed quiet for 10 minutes while I check my email, Facebook, and blogs on my phone.

8:20-I realize I’m behind, go make my bed and jump in the shower.

8:40-First, yes, I spent 20 minutes in the shower.  I wash my hair and shave my legs every day.  I may be a stay-at-home mom, but I have high personal hygiene standards.  After I’m done, I go get Hayes up and get him dressed.  (He totally sleeps to this time naturally.  And PRAISE THE LORD for that.  He spent 10 months of his early life never sleeping through the night, so I feel no guilt about the extra time now.  It’s well deserved.)

I go downstairs and make Hayes a gourmet Eggo waffle and turn on cartoons.  This gives me time to finish getting ready-makeup, hair, and clothes.

9:34-I drop Hayes off at Mother’s Day Out, 4 minutes late.  Awesome.  But, he’s happy and I am too. I spend a couple of minutes in the parking lot replying to the 4 texts I have already received that morning. I jam out to the newest Dave Matthews Band cd and eat my granola bar in the car.

9:50-I arrive at Walmart to buy Andy some picture frames for his office.  I also get supplies for tomorrow’s first Daisy Girl Scout Meeting, where I am the new troop leader.  I also buy myself a fall candle and some candy corn.  Those were not purchased with Girl Scout funds, don’t worry.  I then run home to drop stuff off, start the dishwasher, feed the dog, and turn off the TV, which I forgot to do earlier.

10:50-I arrive at the Girl Scout store to get a vest and patches for Bella and a friend in her troop.  I spend 15 minutes debating between the two sizes, 4-6x or 7-12.  How can they span the sizes of 4 to 12 in two vests?   I decide and buy and hope I don’t have to return anything.

11:25-I get back on the Beltway to pay money to drive in the opposite direction to Andy’s office.  I arrive and help him get things looking great.  (They recently repainted the room.)  We hang the curtain rod, arrange the picture frames with photos of the world’s cutest children and then attempt to hang his large, really nice, framed and matted map on the wall.  I get all excited to use a trick I saw on Pinterest for hanging large things that have two hanger thingies on the back. As I’m using large paper to trace the hanger thingies on the back, I MAYBE lean a little too hard on the picture and hear a funny sound. 

I broke the large piece of glass.

I cry.

12:30-I apologize 83 times to my husband and we try to decide if we should go to lunch or if I should go home and beat myself up some more.  We decide on lunch.  We eat at a mom and pop Chinese food place that was delicious and where our whole meal cost $12.  Score.

1:45-I leave the other side of Houston and head back to my area.  I go straight to school to get Hayes.

2:28-I pick Hayes up, two minutes early.  I chat with my friend, whose little girl is in the same class.  I then get in the car and read the note in his folder, that says something about picture retake day.  WHAT?!?!?  (Hayes only goes on Tuesdays.  Picture day was on a Thursday.)  I feel defeated and sad because I didn’t know the redo  picture day was today, and I sent him to school in a white t-shirt with a shark on it. And we all know how white shirts with pictures of blood thirsty animals turn out.  I call the director to verify that I missed the day.  I did.  She said that a teacher takes the pictures and we can do it Tuesday.  I feel happy, but also like that mom that asks for special things.  Lame.

2:45-We arrive at CVS to return a late Redbox movie (in the rain) and go inside to get pictures I’ve had printed.  Hayes want TicTacs.  I say no.  Crying and a fit follow.  People look at me, but I handle it and make it out.  Mama-1, Hayes-0.

3:15-We pick Bella up from school (in the rain). She has ripped a hole in her leggings.  Awesome. She had a good day and went to music class. 

3:35-We get home, where I go through the mail, school folders, and unpack lunch boxes.  I then put Hayes down for a nap.  He did not sleep at school, and this Mama can’t handle going all evening with a toddler who hasn’t napped.

4:00-I have Bella try on the Daisy vest.  It fits.  I take pictures with my phone to send to grandparents, because she looks adorable.  I then turn the TV on for Bella.  Good parenting. I go to the office to check email and work on getting Girl Scout stuff together for tomorrow.  I call my mom and talk to her while I work. 

6:00- I get Hayes up.  (Yes, I know that’s late, but it works for us.  He will still go to bed still at 8:30/9ish.) We start Bella’s homework, and I give Hayes some pipe cleaners and colander and he puts the cleaners through the holes (stole that from a friend on Facebook) while Bella works.  My kids fight over doing the colander.  We talk about taking turns and loving others more than ourselves.  I have redeemed myself from the TV parenting earlier.

6:30-I vacuum, because Hayes has dumped the circles from the hole punch I was using on to the carpet.  We are also getting our carpets cleaned tomorrow, and everyone knows you need to clean before the cleaning people come. I am also a freak who feels the NEED to vacuum a lot.  I feel passionately about that and shaved legs.  I cannot even explain it to myself.

6:45-I realize I need to make dinner.  Andy has a Board Meeting at work, so he won’t be here.  I wimp out and give Hayes leftover taco meat and tortilla and make chicken noodle soup for Bella and myself.  We eat, with the TV off, and have nice conversation.  All is well until my children notice the candy corn I bought earlier.  They eat 5 each, and then complain.  I put the candy dish in a high place.

7:20-I unload and reload the dishwasher.  Then I wipe the counters and table.  Bella carries toys upstairs from the front room (our formal living room, which is full of toys).  I then clear stuff off of the carpet too for the carpet people and realize how much bigger my house looks without all of my junk.

7:45-I pack Bella’s lunch for tomorrow. Again, not a morning person…I always do it at night.

8:10-We head upstairs, carrying more toys, for bath time. The kids play while I get out their pj’s and pick out clothes for tomorrow. 

8:25-I bathe the kids, help them brush their teeth, and put on pajamas.  I (maybe) threaten that I need people to listen the first time because Mama is losing her patience. 

8:35-I read books, pray, and sing with Hayes.  I repeat with Bella.  Everyone is in bed.  Whew.

9:00-I work on more Girl Scout stuff, because this volunteer thing is hard work.  I also get more stuff off of the carpet.

9:20-I send another email with permission slips attached to parents in the troop.  Someone forgot to attach them the first time.  That person needs to get it together.

9:30-Andy gets home.  I talk with him.  I make him a sandwich. 

10:00-I help Andy move his music stuff off of the carpet.  WHY DO WE HAVE SO MUCH STUFF ON THE FLOOR?!?!  I use the broom to get debris off the carpet that my dog has dragged in, because she likes to make sure I do jobs twice.

10:30-I talk to my brother-in-law, who has called to discuss the debate.  I explain that I didn’t watch, because I was schooling, feeding, bathing, and rocking my kids.  We debate whether I should have parented or “been a good American”.  I am just doing my job, people. 

11:00- I gather everything up for Girl Scouts tomorrow.  I update my calendar for the week.  I love having stuff written down, just so I can check it off. 

I then hang out (and type this) until I’m ready to go to bed. 

Now I’m ready for another day, one where I can leave everything on my carpet. 

Thursday, August 2, 2012


Well, I haven't blogged in a long time.  Honestly, I haven't really felt like I've had much to say.

Then this week, I've had two people, both from very different parts of my life, encourage me to write again. And wouldn't you know, now I have something so say. Here I go...

Some days, I feel like an awesome parent.  I am patient.  My kids are kind and obedient.  Everyone is happy.

Take today, for example, when we (Hayes and I...Bella is at my parent's house) went to the Children's Museum.  We were cultured, we learned, we further invested in friendships.

See?  I'm rockin' it.  My baby looks sweet and cute.

Then, there are days like yesterday.  Hayes and I went to the library.  I swear, the INSTANT we enter that building, my kids go nuts.  It's like I have never disciplined them or taken them to a public place.

He was loud from the start.  He was screaming about going on the elevator, to which I explained that we didn't need to go up to the adult section, because my books were on hold downstairs.  He threw himself on the floor in protest.  I tried to distract him by going into the kid's section.  We found a book he liked and sat down to read it.  He threw it on the floor.  Another mom looked at me and moved (Yes, got up and MOVED, away from us.)  I tried to take him to look for a train book and he ran away from me.  Finally, I had had enough and decided to check out and go. (I was determined to get my books.  One of them I requested in April and it is finally my turn.)  So, there I am, holding a protesting, SCREAMING child in one arm and checking out books with the other.  The librarians, none of whom offered to help me (which would have been nice), looked at me.  One commented that he was tired.  "Why yes, yes he is, thank you." was my bitter response.  We got to the car and I was sweaty, and embarrassed, and angry.

I spent the rest of the day being mad at my two year old.

My parenting skills are not enough. 

Some days, I feel like an awesome person.  I say the right things.  I'm a good friend.  I have my house cleaned and my laundry under control.   I have on a great outfit and look...nice.  Maybe even pretty.

Then the next day, every thing is a mess.  I am a mess.  I stare at myself and think that I am more than enough (aka...too fat) and shred myself apart in my head.  I can spend a whole day doing this.  A WHOLE DAY.

My personality, achievements, and looks are not enough. 

Then, I sit in this house (clean or messy) and think two opposing thoughts.  Sometimes I can't stand all I have.  I have TOO MUCH.  I clean out a closet like a mad person.  I make a trip to Goodwill.  And then a few days later, I go shopping.   You know, to get more stuff.

My things are not enough.

Some days, there are issues in the world that get me thinking.  Let's look at a trendy one...Chick-fil-a.  I have really been watching and contemplating this one.

What is enough?

Is it enough to not eat chicken or to eat chicken? Is it enough to protest or support?  How do we love?  (Please, people, let's love.)

I read articles like this :
I love some things she said.  A friend and I were just discussing some of these same points today:

(taken from the blog above)
We hate injustice.

We hate our own sin and pride and arrogance, and we grieve at how it has wounded, sliced, slashed, and humiliated.

We hate that 25,000 people will die today of hunger and we’re arguing gay marriage again.

We hate how the Gospel has been turned into a bludgeoning tool.

We hate pointless arguments that widen the gap and devalue real human people.

We hate abuse and violence and crowded orphanages and trafficked sixth-graders.

But then, I think, do I hate these things enough?

Is it enough to throw change or a couple dollar bills at the homeless person on the corner?

Is it enough to support my husband, who works with the hungry and poor in Houston?

Is it enough to support my church and say "Yay! That's good work!" in their stand against human trafficking?

I don't know.  I don't know.  I DON'T KNOW.

I. am. not. enough.

But I can go to bed tonight, resting and believing and clinging to the fact that I have a Savior who is.


"His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness." 2 Peter 1:3

"For you were called to freedom, brothers.  Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another."  Galatians 5:13

"I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me, and delivered Himself up for me."  Galatians 2:20

Saturday, May 12, 2012

Mother's Day...A Rerun

Happy Mother's Day!

It is here once again.  This holiday stirs up so many emotions in me, and I decided that I wanted to go back and read the post I wrote last year.  I really put my heart on paper (or a screen, I guess) then and I wanted to experience it again as I think, celebrate, and pray this year.

Then it occurred to me that maybe my readers would like to experience it again too.  Or maybe experience it for the first time if you're new.  

So, without further delay, a Mother's Day rerun post from 2011...  

 (originally posted May 8, 2011)
To my beautiful children, Bella Kathryn and Hayes Ryan,

It's Mother's Day, and I am sure you (with Daddy's help) have something planned for me. I wanted to take time to write you a letter.  This letter is going to have a couple of lists (love them) and it's going to start with a strange one.  Keep reading until the end.  Obey your mother.

Being a mom changes your life.  A lot.  That leads to list one:

Things I don't have since I have children:
- a clean car
- a clean kitchen floor (Which isn't really fair to blame on you.  It's white tile and it's impossible.)
- a fishing boat (That one's for your dad.)
- the ability to stay out late and sleep late the next morning
- a toy free living room
- peaceful time to shower without someone coming in to talk to me or play in the toilet (Ahem...Hayes)
-rockin' abs

But oh, my babies, you have brought me so many other things.  Some of them things I didn't even know I was missing.

Things I have since I have children:
- more patience
- the ability to multitask at an Olympic level
- the knowledge that you can trade in the toy at Chick-fil-a for ice cream.  Score.
- a pantry door that is covered in artwork
- the excuse to go shopping for clothes every season because you've outgrown the ones from last year
- a reason to use my camera everyday
- the opportunity to look at the world in a different way, as you ask questions and discover things for the first time
- a moment daily, where you rest your head on my shoulder, and I am so happy I forget to breathe
- a paper that says "Mama" taped to my mirror, because it's the first time you ever wrote my name and I want to look at it every day for the rest of my life
- a better understanding of who God, my Father, is and how much he loves me
- a scar, that I love, because it reminds me of where you both used to be

You see, the two of you have brought so much into my life.  Most of all, you have brought me joy, a heart that is overflowing with love.  I have tears in my eyes as I type this because I can't find words that are good enough to explain how much I love you.

When I rock you late at night, I look at the cross that says, "For this child I have prayed."  You both have them in your rooms.  It's a reminder for me.  It's a reminder for you.  You were prayed for.  You were so very wanted.  And God answered my prayer.

I am so very grateful.

"Worthy are you, O God, to receive honor and glory, for you created all things." Revelation 4:11

"The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy." Psalm 126:3


And I cannot close this post on Mother's Day, without one more letter...

Dear beautiful woman who is longing to be a mother,

You are not forgotten.

There was a time, just a few years ago, when I could not write the letter above.  I had been trying, and failing, for two years to have a baby.  I was in pain.
I had a doctor, fantastic as he was (and still is), who couldn't give me answers.  Pregnant women followed me around Wal-Mart.  I cringed when I had to listen to other women complain about their pregnancies.  I was the girl at the baby shower with nothing to talk about. 

And I hated Mother's Day.  It was a celebration of everything I was not.

I would avoid church on that day, because bursting into tears when they ask all of the mothers to stand isn't really a socially acceptable response.  

I remember.  You are not forgotten.

If you are waiting to be a mother, I am thinking of you and praying for you.

And you should know that I will still cry in church today.  For me.  For you.  For a God who can do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine.


Tuesday, February 28, 2012

And...I'm Back!

So, I haven’t blogged in awhile.

This lack of blogging started to keep me from blogging.  I don’t know if that makes sense.  I’ll explain.  I started to feel bad that it had been so long.  I didn’t know how to start up again.  Do I mention it?  Do I make an excuse?  Is my public (all three of you) expecting something great?  Since I didn’t know what to do, I just didn’t blog.  Then that made it all worse.  It’s a vicious cycle at its finest. 

I have no good reason.  I just got busy, then lazy, and then felt that I was in this weird place as explained above. 

I also sometimes feel that I have to write something phenomenal.  Something that will change the world…or at least make people laugh and/or cry.  

This post is not that.  I thought I would warn you, my public, before you invest more time in this. 

Anyway, since my last post, Christmas happened.  It was nice, we saw family, and I spent a week organizing all of my kids new stuff.  I won’t post pictures or explain more, because no one really needs a Christmas post in the last few days of February. 

Oh wait, I lied about the picture thing.  I did get an awesome camera for Christmas, and I LOVE IT.  It makes my children look even better, if that’s at all possible.  See below:

 Super clear pictures of some beautiful faces, right?  This camera is so snazzy I even had to watch a DVD to learn how to use it.  See how in the last picture my boy is all in focus and my girl is not?  I KNOW.  Impressive. 

The December organizing of toys followed me into January, where I felt like I needed everything to be, well, organized.  I get these feelings inside of me sometimes that make me feel like my whole house is a GIANT MESS.  Then I have to stop and organize it RIGHT THEN or and CANNOT GO ON WITH MY LIFE.  

It’s crazy, I know.  

Sometimes I wait it out and let it pass, like when I felt that way about the paid bills that are stacked on top of our filing cabinet.  I just ignored the nagging in my head and left them that way, because bills are not fun before or after.  The rest of the house, though, experienced my crazy wrath.

We also had 87 doctor’s appointments for Bella in December and January, followed up with 1 chest x-ray and 43 prescriptions.  Okay, that’s an exaggeration, but it felt that way.  We finally have an asthma plan that is working, and I am so grateful.  Being sick (or watching your kid be sick) stinks big time. 

February is now here (and almost over) and it was busy.  We had the usual Valentine’s Day fun, where I lost my fight to do crafty Valentines for Bella’s school to a popular blond:

We had a super busy weekend after the 14th where we went to Waco for my parents to be honored with an Alumni by Choice award from Baylor.  (I feel like I should say here that this award was found by the fabulous Matt Benton, who then forwarded the info to us.  The nomination letter was written by the fabulous Andy Benton.  I really just was along for the ride.)  

It was very special ceremony with a yummy brunch.  I was so proud of my parents, who deserve this award for their great love of Baylor and their support (both emotional and financial) of my Baylor Education.  Sic 'em.

 (Yes, Hayes was not looking and has a wet spot on his pants.  Sigh.)
That same weekend, we drove back into town, unpacked, had church the next day, and then Andy and I attended a Missions Banquet that night.  

There are no pictures of that, but you should know that I was super proud of my brave fashion.  I wore a black dress and purple patterned tights with black short boots.  I know.  I’m cool.  

Really, I just had to do something because I don’t like my tall black boots anymore.  Don’t get me wrong, they are still really nice boots.  The toe and heel are just...not in.  I am keeping them though, because I know in ten years, they will be desirable again.  Everything comes back around.

Take colored jeans, for example.  They were here, gone, and now they are back.  I have seen them in stores and read about them on other blogs.  I will have you know that I wore cream-colored jeans on my first day of high school.  (Yes, I remember vividly what I was wearing. Many major memories for me are linked to outfits.  I’m not sure if that makes me have amazing attention to detail or if it just makes me a little pathetic.)
Another thing that came back around was the BEST DAY EVER, also known as my birthday.  I got lots of nice gifts throughout the day from Andy and the kids, and I loved that he had planned it all out like that.  We had a nice dinner with family and friends, where I had shrimp and cheesecake.  Only the best foods on the best day.   

 I also had very nice eye makeup at my dinner thanks to a YouTube video.  I also learned an eyeliner trick that has changed me.  All of those wasted years, doing to it the hard way.  (I told you this was not a blog that would change the world.)

Now, I am 31 years old.  I’m calling it my Baskin Robbins year…you know, like 31 flavors? 

It is alarming to me that my first trip to Target after turning 31 resulted in this coming with my receipt:

What are you trying to say, Target?

I also did an email worship survey for church the other day and, prepare yourselves…I had to check the 31-40 age bracket at the end.  It was like the 5th bracket on the list.  

Don’t get me wrong, I realize living is such a privilege.   I hope to have many, many more birthdays.  It is just weird to have to read down the list to find your age for the first time. 

And clearly, what Target and the church survey people don’t know is that I still feel 20 in my heart, and that’s what matters.

They also don’t know that I can totally rock patterned tights and cream-colored jeans.
(Do not question if those jeans would even still fit me now.  That is not to be discussed on the internet.)

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Thursday, November 17, 2011

The Poor

Poor people make me uncomfortable.

Or scared.

Or uncomfortable and scared.

We all have things that make us uncomfortable.  Like, being in the backseat of a car when the two people in the front seat are arguing.  Or trying to find the right words to say to a friend who has just had someone they love die.  Or public speaking.

Well, poor people make me feel that way at times.

Poor people, you say?  Really, Shene'?  Who are you?

Well I'll tell you what I'm not...I'm not poor.  And chances are, neither are you.

Don't believe me?  Calculate it here:

Statistics don't lie.  I am richer than 99% of the world.  Yes.  NINETY-NINE percent.

I think we like to conveniently forget this sometimes.  I know I like to have pity parties every now and then and make a mental list of all of the things I am "sacrificing".  I mean, the jeans I have on are from Target and now that we live on one income, I get my haircut at Supercuts.  

And then I look around me and I look at images from around the world and I get so sick of my "iPhone, 35 pairs of shoes, full pantry" self I can barely stand it.

But then, if I am so sick of myself and my "first world problems", why do I still feel the way I do about the poor?

Well, I think we are all uncomfortable and scared of what we don't understand.  And there is a lot about poverty I don't understand.  I don't know what it is like to truly live in those circumstances.  I don't understand the underlying mindsets and behaviors of the poor.  I don't know the "rules" there. (Just like I don't know the "rules" at a celebrity "A List" party.)  Poor people are different from me.  Just read some Dr. Ruby Payne if you need some proof. 

I am scared for my kids to be around poverty.  What will they hear?  What will they see?  What will they, gasp, learn? We are zoned to an elementary school that is not one of the "nicest".  We live three streets south of a major road.  Apparently, this major road is a natural dividing line between the desirable and undesirable schools around here.   We didn't know this at first.  It certainly wasn't on the real estate listing when we bought our house. 

I am uncomfortable with how poverty makes me feel about my life too.  I feel guilty at times.  Why was I born into a loving, middle class, two parent family?  Why did I get tons of toys at Christmas?  Why did I have the opportunity to get a good education and then attend a private university?  Why me and not them?

Tonight, I felt that scared, uncomfortableness in my belly as I drove to serve Thanksgiving dinner to low-income families in another part of town.  I hate admitting that.  I mean, these people are the reason for my husband's JOB.  You know, the one that pays him the money that keeps me in the 99%. 

And then I got there, and everything I just typed flew out the door.

People can be different, and very much the same.  I passed out dessert.  Everyone likes dessert.  That was my ticket in.  I just started talking to the guests.  I talked with a mama about her six month old baby.  I complimented her pigtails, and we discussed the fact that no matter how many bows you put on a baby girl's head, someone is going to call her a boy.  I talked with another mama about the huge leftover box she was taking home, and how her son was going to eat it all in a day.  We agreed that teenage boys will eat you out of house and home.  I talked with teenagers about school, and college, and being a teacher.

People, ALL people, like to be complimented, like to talk about their kids, and like to dream of a better future. 

People like to be loved. 

I saw my daughter play with children who are from a different world than her, and she didn't have a fat clue.  She just played.   She just laughed.  And I prayed that God would give me the strength to let her go, to let my school worries go.  She is not too good to go to school with kids that don't wear Gymboree and have themed birthday parties. 

People like to be accepted. 

The majority of my teaching career has been spent in low-income schools.  Andy works for a non-profit that serves low-income families.

Remember how poor people make me uncomfortable?

Thank you God, for your sense of humor.

Thank you for giving us your best, instead of what we thought was better.  May I not be haughty and associate with the lowly. (Romans 12:16)

May I love, because You first loved me.

Friday, October 14, 2011

I know it's not Wednesday...

Ok, so here's a "What's on my Phone? Wednesday" post. 

I know it's Friday.  I am a slacker.  But I still wanted to look at what our life has been like these past two weeks, according to Iris the iPhone...

We went to a birthday party for Bella's sweet friend, Maya.  It was at Chick-fil-a.  Isn't that princess cow so fun?

Do not, I repeat, do NOT use your hand to push down the trash when you have just made taco soup and there are lots of cans in there with sharp lids.  I cut my finger and it hurt!  I really thought I might have to get stitches, but didn't.  Now I just have a scar, and a fear of the trash can. 

I caught these two playing horse farm together one morning.  I love it when they are sweet like this. 

At Whataburger, because I am teaching my children to love the finer things in life. 

Our dog, Beatrice, has been attempting to escape.  Don't let her old-lady name fool you...she's a beast.

Since it's kinda fallish outside (below 90), we've been hanging out in the yard a lot more. 

While we were out on the wagon ride above, Bea got upset that she was left at home.  That 2x4 that was screwed into the fence was no match for her. 

Our pediatrician orders standard blood work at 12 months.  Yes, Hayes is 18 months and I just now remembered to do it.  Not only am I late with this "Wednesday" post, I am late with medical lab work too.  Winning.  (He did great, by the way.  He's a brave boy.)

And last, but not least...SIC 'EM BEARS!  Beat the Aggies tomorrow.  Tell them, "(SE)C you later!"