being away

Well, I made it back from Vegas, otherwise known as Work Trip #2. This one was a lot harder on lots of different levels. I'm not sure why at this point, but it seems to have been harder on every single front I've seen so far.

Busy-ness beyond busy-ness. I didn't get much contact with my peeps back home due to many different reasons, not the least of which being the 10 minutes it took me to walk (when I got to walk at top speed) from the Conference Center to my room.

Alas, I'm home now. I took a bunch of pics this time and I'll try to get them uploaded to my Flickr today, or at least before too very long.

Busy seems to be following me around these days. I'm gonna have to talk to that Busy. I'm kinda tired of being its whipping post. Busy needs to take a real vacation, or at least make another friend or two...preferably ones that aren't my friends.

For the Sweet One!

This one's for you...

Okay. Please let me start by saying that there are things in my day to day life that I don't like to reveal to anyone except those closest to me. The story that follows is one of those things.

I'm only posting this here because my sweet daughter basically dared me to. And, since I'm an awesome mother AND grown up...I'm not going to back down from her challenge.

So now, a little back story. Insider information...just for you.

Sometimes my tummy gets a little upset. Sometimes, my digestion process is a little quick. Sometimes, it's a little slow. When it gets this way, it is always noisy.

Also, as back story, I grew up in a house that being with family was different than being with real people. We were expected to be normal when we were with other people and not so much when we were with family. Well, immediate family. This was modeled well for me in my youth.

Okay, so here's the story:

I picked Middle Mann from therapy today immediately following work where I was busy and some what anxious. I had cried for personal reasons in the middle of the day and then at the end of the day, I had to bother a doctor for their signature for an enrollment matter. During that encounter, I was asked what I was doing working on this type of project. Stress + anxiety + confrontation = me with nervousness. Clear?

So, I race up to the therapy unit where I am already 3 minutes late in picking him up. (more nervous) His therapist and I talked and I found myself putting my foot in my mouth. I'm really good at this sometimes. (growing anxiety)

I'm leaving with my mann and we race to car like always. I had left his door unlocked. His door was on the close side. I had to walk slowly all the way around the car, unlock my door, sit down, keys in the ignition, and seatbelt on. I beat him to the seatbelt. I mostly always do, but we enjoy the game. It really gets him giggling.

SO, while we were giggling about how I won, an overwhelming urge began rising up within me. Well, it wasn't really rising up. It was certainly stirring though. That gassy bubble started knocking on my back door. Upon realizing that it wasn't probably going to be a quiet one, I started singing a little song that I made up in that exact moment to that sweet boy of mine.

The tune was horrible. It was definitely LOUD. I don't remember the words exactly, but you'll get the picture - I hope.

Also, please remember...when you're with family and not normal people, you don't have to be normal. Socially acceptable - nope! That's out the window.

The song went something like this:
I love to fart!
I love my farts!!!
When that little bubble comes knocking
on the door
it begs to come out!
But my butt says WAIT!
Not until I sing a song!!!
PPPPBBBBLLLLLSSSSSSTTTTTT!

Oh yes! He totally laughed his behind off!! He loved the song!! And honestly, I felt a lot better.

I know, that's not very dignified, but sometimes, life isn't always about that. I'm pretty transparent, ya know??

Educational TV??

I'm watching a show on the History Channel about magnets. They just referenced an amazing fact about magnetism.

Now, I know that I don't have a degree or anything. It's just me here. Me and my high school edumacation, but isn't there a better number to describe emmensness than this? One Thousand Trillion. Wouldn't that be quadrillion??

I'm just saying...the History Channel is supposed to be educational, right? Why is it that they didn't try to say it the right way? Who decides what's educational around here??

Thinking

I think there's a lot of posts here titled "Thinking". I'm not sure why I seem to start that way. I think because more than anything, that's why I started this little blog. It was so that I could think. Like my profile says, "to think things through my fingers."

I've found myself really thinking a lot about Michelle this past week, but nothing is really sticking out in my head right now. I'm tired. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day too. Softball practice in the morning, a school bus rodeo, possibly late lunch with a friend, pick up and drop off daughter, then pick her up and bring her home. I'm sure in the midst of all that, someone will be hungry and I'll need to feed them.

Learning

It was busy day. I went up to Bothell to learn more about sound and running the sound board. I learned new stuff about limiting, compression, and gates. I also had re-clarified the craziness that is plumbing a sound system. The ins, the outs, and the ons.

It was fun to hang out with David all day. To make fun of each others' weaknesses in our varied skill sets. When all was said and done, of course our mix was the best in the room. There were about 40+ different mixes represented. We still have some to learn on the gate, but not anymore than others who represented their church's technical teams.

May Day

It's May Day. I realized this as I was driving Mini Mann to school this morning. I remembered May Day celebrations in my elementary years. I also remember an awkward sense that I had no idea what May Day was all about.

After skimming through the wiki explanation, I'm still not 100% sure that's what I remembered from the day. I remembered making little tissue flowers with pipe cleaners and folded paper pots.

Pipe cleaners. Man! I remember those. When I went to private school, pipe cleaners were the coveted crafting material. There were kids who had pipe cleaners every single time we had a crafty homework project. And then there was me. I only got pipe cleaners when someone had left overs. They really can add to a project for a 6th grader...unless all you get are the brown scraps.

My crafting skills have been apparently never been that notable. Maybe that's why I'm so chicken about being a MOPs mom.

and yes, it's a hyperlink day. I haven't been able to pinpoint what makes a hyperlink day, but I know they've happened before.