“The difference between school and life? In school, you're taught a lesson and then given a test. In life, you're given a test that teaches you a lesson." --Tom Bodett, American author and humorist

**I hope you find the humor and sarcasm in this post.  In real life, it's easy to be quite serious, but as I write things down, I can't help but pour sarcasm over my thoughts and words.  Nut house, here we come!**

I haven't gotten Ellie's hair fixed yet.  If I pull it back, you can't even tell that she has the most amazing hair cut right now.  I bought her a new brush and a new pink comb (which she carried around for the next couple days) to get her excited about getting her hair done.  This worked for about a week.  Then the "special chair" (a basket) worked for a couple days.  Now we are back to the fighting.  Sometimes I leave her hair in the same spot for a few days if it looks okay.  I hate the fighting.  I think we will have to go back to the "sitting in front of the TV with candy in her hands" trick.  Good grief!  When I do get it fixed, I think she will have to have mullet type bangs.  We will see. 

We bought Ellie a backpack along with Dallin's today.  She got lucky because they were 40% off...the bonus of kindergarten starting a week later (they both picked out the kind with the handle and wheels, which can be quite annoying as you are walking home from school, being bombarded with bikes and scooters and your 5 year old takes up 2 lanes because he has to pull his backpack along on its ultra cool wheels...).  Anywho...Ellie has been caring that thing around with her all day long, filling it with everything, tortilla chips included. 

Dallin had his first day of Kindergarten today.  We will have to take "second day of school" pictures because we took him out to lunch today and were running a little late, so we didn't have time to get the camera.  Paul walked him in and he sat in his seat.  He looked around with a grin.  Despite all the whining for the past couple weeks about not wanting to go to school, he really does love it (although he told me that we do not go to school to learn....hmmm).  Tonight he asked me what days he goes to school.  I told him the only days he didn't go were Saturday and Sunday.  "Oh!" he replied, "Those are the only days that I don't want to go!"  I am hoping that this will be a great year.

Me?  I am having one of those, " I can't take my kids to the store because the store makes me want to puke and my kids are out of control at the store and we are out of milk.  I am so lonely.  I feel like I can never go anywhere or do anything because I am either sick, too far away, or (fill in the blank) so I can't go do anything.  I feel like an outsider.  I am fat, ugly, stupid and mental.  I can't do anything right, my house is always a mess, I know, so you don't need to tell me.  Why can't I let any one get close to me?  Why do I have to push everyone away?  Why can't I make friends easily?  Why am I so forgetful?  Why am I so screwed up?  Why do I always feel like I have to start over?  Why am I afraid to do anything and everything?"  nights.  My floor is covered in tissues because Paul is at work and not here to tell me how super-awesome-rad I really am.  My trials are always amplified when I am hormonal.  Go figure, right?  I know no one ever feels this way but me, right? ;)  And summer TV is ending.  I have definitely become a fan.  That, along with air conditioning.  My two best friends this summer (along with my little sidekicks, phenergan and zofran).  Does is bother anyone else that people always pronounce phenergan "phenegran"?  Hmmm....I think a lobotomy would do me some good.  I think it would.

Paul.  He tries so hard to be patient.  He deserves a Kingdom on High for dealing with me (although my dad tells me this all the time....whatever...insert snarky teenage attitude...).  He goes to work like a good little boy, comes home and helps me with the kids, the laundry, the cleaning, the cooking, the crazy woman/alien thing that took over his wife's body (little did he know that the invasion took place sometime during puberty).  He's a good egg, that man.

My mom used to sing two words to me all the time, "Just breath...." growing up.  I know that I need to breath, but this pregnant woman has some bad gas, and breathing is really quite toxic at times.  On the bright side:  I know that my cup runneth over.  I know that I could go swimming in the river of blessing that are mine.  I just need to learn to swim.