On Our Way To Crazy

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. Thanks for doing awesome things like matching my belt to my shirt to my ribbon. And matching your shirt to the curtains.

You are the best. I hope my kids are half as proud to be mine as I am to be yours.

It’s 5:00 on New Year’s Day.

I have been laying on our new guest bed for the past several hours. I watched Marilyn Monroe in The Seven Year Itch and Beyonce’s sister in Bring It On: All or Nothing, and Beauty Shop with Queen Latifah just started, so I’m in for at least another hour and a half. I have Dr. Pepper and the last of the chocolate covered peanut butter crackers my mom sent home with me.

I’m having a great day.

The past ten days have been a complete blur. We spent a whirlwind week in Texas running back and forth between Austin and Dallas. It was a great week – we managed to squeeze in some friend time between all the family action and our families were way too good to us, as usual.

We landed in Nashville on Monday afternoon at 3:30, giving me about 30 minutes to pull stuff out of one bag and throw it into another in time to meet our junior high kids at a hotel to kick off our New Year’s Eve Retreat Extravaganza. I spent the last three days hauling them around in a van that smelled like Axe body spray and beef jerky, packing food boxes, dancing to Boogie Wonderland, enforcing strict energy drink restrictions, stuffing styrofoam peanuts in my mouth (and losing the youth pastor challenge by ONE MARSHMALLOW stuck on my face with honey), scavenging CVS at 2am for Happy New Year gear and having a fantastic time. I love junior high kids.

I am completely exhausted. But I am very, very content. I got to spend the last weeks of 2008 surrounded by people I love and who love me, eating and laughing and cooking and running crazy. And I got to ring in the new year doing the job I love with the coolest kids in the world. If this is a sign of things to come, then bring it on, 2009.

Do you know what’s happening in this picture?

(That’s me, third from the left.)

It’s homecoming season around here. Yesterday I was talking to some of the girls about dress shopping and dates and football games. But one thing we did not talk about was the mum.

If you didn’t grow up in Texas, you probably don’t know what I’m talking about. But if you did, you just flashed back to giant fake flowers, industrial strength pins, tiny teddy bears and sticky glitter letters.

The mum is a Texas homecoming tradition. They are meant to be a gift from your homecoming date, but can also come from parents, friends, or you can just get one for yourself. A mum is a big fake flower (chrysanthemum), mounted onto a piece of cardboard and covered in ribbons. The ribbons are decorated with school colors, mascots, names, jokes, activities. The have bells, whistles, plastic football helmets… anything you can hang from a flower is fair game.

Girls dress up for school on homecoming and then attach these giant creations to their fancy clothes. This gets tricky, because those things are freakishly heavy. Mine always worked pretty well with giant pins, but some girls had to resort to ropes and balance weights. No, I am not making that up.

We would walk around all day in dresses and heels, hunched over to one side to support the weight of the mum. The ribbon would cut into our shins and rip holes in our pantyhose. It was impossible to sit down while wearing them, so classes were pretty useless.

Mums are insane, y’all. INSANE. Why on earth did we do that to ourselves? They are uncomfortable, heavy, and… oh, yeah. UGLY. Seriously. Whose idea what that? Boys hated buying them, I’m sure, and we stressed ourselves out over who we were getting ours from and what they would look like. All for the privilege of back pain and shoulder strain. Awesome.

The male equivalent of the mum is the garter, though if memory serves me correctly they were only for the football players. I was never a football player dating kind of girl, so I don’t know for sure. What I do remember is big burly guys wearing garters around their biceps with lace, little plastic footballs and ribbons bearing their numbers and girlfriend’s name. Manly.

It’s my understanding that this is a strictly Texas tradition. Am I right? Did any of you guys do mums in other states? Are you from Texas? Tell me about your mum experience. I’m sure it’s a fond memory.

Well, it’s official. I’m old.

I spent this past weekend in Dallas for my 10-year high school reunion. I was really nervous, I have to say. I fretted about my outfit, worried about getting there too early, made sure to ride with a group so I didn’t have to walk in alone. Pretty much all the things I did in high school. And do now. Because I am a mature adult.

The reunion? Super fun. I did not expect that. There were tons of people there. It was held at a bar, so everything was really casual and informal. I liked that a lot. As much as I wanted to put on a fancy dress and go to a ballroom and tell everyone about how I invented post-its, I was much more comfortable wearing jeans and drinking beer.

I had a fairly large graduating class, about 350 kids, and I would say about 150 people came to the reunion. Most of them I wasn’t really interested in talking to. But there were several of ‘my’ people there. Do you know what I mean by ‘my’ people? Not my close friends, necessarily, but people who were always on my radar and I really wanted to see. Maybe we dated, or I always had a crush on them, or we were friends in elementary school but not so much after that.

This reunion was good for me in regards to those people. There were a couple whom I felt I never got a good ending with, if that makes sense. We just kind of moved out of each other’s lives. I know that’s a good thing, but it was nice this weekend to feel like I got some closure with those people. And I didn’t even have to get drunk at a restaurant and borrow a cell phone from a stranger and then drop it in an ice bucket. So that’s good.

Picture time!

This is Callie and Randa. We have been friends since the first grade. Callie’s family lived right down the street from us. My mom drove carpool, and she would go to Callie’s house, wake her up, then go pick up Randa and a couple of other girls and then swing back by and get Callie. Randa used to sing along with the guitar solos when we did karaoke.

This is Kendra. We knew all the words to Mr. Wendell and could quote Cool Runnings like nobody’s business.

This is Ryan. We dated for a month one summer and never talked again. Turns out he does remember all that stuff, and we had a hilarious conversation about it.

This is Kelley and Melanie. They were my BFFs. We are all extremely different people now, but I am glad we can mostly still be friends. It also makes me glad to live in Nashville.

So! Overall, the reunion was a success. I had a great time. It was really fun to see everyone and talk about old memories. It was also really fun to come home. At around midnight, during the afterparty, I texted Aaron and just said, “Thanks for getting me out of this place.” I love those people, but I’m glad they’re not my ‘real life’ people anymore. I had a good high school experience. I still have great friends from those days. But these days are the ones I like the most.

I love our neighborhood. I love our house, I love our street, I love our big trees and downtown proximity. But there are some weird things going down in this place.

The couple across the street from us has lived in that house for 45 years. They are super nice and have a grandson who stays with them who is always, always, ALWAYS wearing a cowboy hat, boots, and a cape. He’s awesome. But here’s the weird part – she mows the lawn every day. EVERY DAY. I’ve been paying attention, and I think I’ve got it figured out. As best as I can tell, she’s got the yard divided into seven chunks. (I was going to say seven quadrants, but I’m pretty sure that’s impossible. I don’t know my geometry, or even if that would be qualified as geometry, but I do know my prefixes!) Each day she mows a different chunk, and by the end of the week she’s mowed the whole thing. Then she just starts over.

There’s a guy who lives kind of caddy-cornered to us who is a gardener. Usually, it’s really nice when your neighbor is a gardener. They always have pretty, well-kept grass and flowers. BUT. It’s a little different when they are growing corn. In the front yard. It’s pretty awesome, really… there was grass, then there was black tarp everywhere, and now there are cornstalks that are taller than I am.

But my personal favorite is the lady a few houses down. She runs a daycare out of her house, and she keeps a few kids from all over the neighborhood. At the end of the day, when it’s time for the kids to go home, their parents don’t pick them up. Instead, the daycare lady takes them home. On her riding lawnmower. So several times a day I see her driving down the street, racing past my house at two miles an hour, with a couple of kids and a dog in her lap. Sometimes she’s alone and talking on the phone. Because we all need a little downtime.

I wonder if those people think we’re the weird ones? They sit and blog about their new neighbors who pay a guy to mow their lawn, just grow bushes and flowers, and use their cars to get around town. Or maybe it’s about how they have a bunch of teenagers over all the time, sleep late and wear their pajamas outside every morning to let the dog out. Crazy people.

I think I have to come out of hibernation. Sad. How is it possible that today is New Year’s Eve? I usually eat up this time of year – I love lists and recaps and best ofs. But I have missed all that stuff this year. The entire month of December just blew by me.

We went to Texas for a week and it was glorious, despite my having a sore throat and cough that took my voice for the better part of four days. The combination of our not having many non-holiday days in town and my sickness kept us from seeing a lot of non-family people, and I was grateful for it. It feels like we spend a ton of time in Dallas running all over town to spend a few minutes with a ton of people, but all it really accomplishes is making us tired. So this year was a nice break from that.

Santa was good to me. I got, among other things, a sweet pair of cowboy boots, a gorgeous black wool coat, a Willow Tree nativity scene and a homemade (by my dad) set of portable washer pits. Aaron got Guitar Hero 3 and a bunch of Curb Your Enthusiasm DVD sets, so we’re set for entertainment for a while.

There were frustrations, as there always are, and we learned a little bit more about our families and how to deal with them and which people we like better than others. But overall it was a good week. We played games, watched movies, made desserts, slept late. We gave what I thought were very clever and thoughtful gifts, and we even got some in return that were the same.

We also got a ceramic donkey-horse, but that’s another story for another day.

You know how when you’re looking for a job, and you get an interview, you start telling people about it? And then after the interview, if you don’t get the job, you have to tell those same people that it didn’t work out? And after doing that a couple of times you decide not to tell anyone you have an interview until after you’ve already got the job, so you can give them good news instead of having to relive your disappointment over and over again?

I’m kind of afraid of that same thing happening to me right now. Not with a job, but with our house. But I’m doing it anyway.

I think we sold our house. Yay!

We got an offer on Saturday, which was also moving day. Moving day was long and hard. You know what makes a long hard moving day better? Getting an offer on your house.

It was a little lower than we were prepared to accept, so we countered. Then he countered. And yesterday, we accepted his counter. So barring any unforseen issues, we could close on our house on July 13. Which is two and a half weeks. Holy moly.

Lots of exciting things going on around this place! We are officially living in our new house. Well, kind of living. We sleep and bathe there, but that’s about it. We just got our refrigerator yesterday… we have been living on nothing but water bottles, granola bars and fruit snacks for the past few days. Our TV was also hooked up yesterday, but we haven’t had two seconds to sit and watch anything yet. Aaron has been fighting with the bathroom sink for two weeks, but he finally won yesterday so we can stop brushing our teeth in the kitchen sink. We can’t wash clothes because the new house has the wrong kind of outlet for our dryer plug.

But still! We live there! Our stuff is there! Miles is there with his incredible echoing bark! Yay!

We leave for youth camp on Monday. I am nervous. I’ve never been the point person on a big trip like this one before. We’re taking 25 kids and 5 leaders to Centrifuge in Ridgecrest, NC. I can’t wait to get there… it’s the getting us all there in one piece part that concerns me. This the first time a lot of these kids have been to a youth camp before, so I am really excited for them to experience it and to get to be there with them. Our group needs to do some bonding and I think this week is going to be huge for that. Your prayers are appreciated.

Aaron is out of town this week for the third time this month. He will get back Saturday night, giving him Sunday to rest and wash clothes before we head out again. That is assuming of course that I can get someone out to fix our dryer issue before Saturday.

Any of you guys have mad electrical skills and want to come help me out? That would be awesome.

Why I Am Excited About Our New House

1. It is like two minutes from the highway. As opposed to fifteen. Which may seem like a short distance to some of you, but believe me, it is not. I feel like it takes forever to get everywhere from our house.

2. It has a real yard. With tall trees.

3. It is one-story. No more trying to figure out how to keep the upstairs cool without turning the downtairs into the Antartic. No more getting downstairs only to realize you’ve left Miles’ collar in the bedroom.

4. All the doors have cool cutouts in them.

5. We don’t have to share walls with anyone.

6. The kitchen. With a new counter and bright green walls (and less dirty dishes and jugs of bleach), it will be the kitchen I have always wanted.

7. The neighborhood. It’s fantastic. Full of 50′s ranch houses set back on big lots with great trees. And our location within the neighborhood couldn’t be better – we’re right in the middle, near the elementary school. It’s perfect.

8. The floors. Original and awesome.

9. That with the addition of another bedroom and bathroom and a den, it is going to be our dream house in our dream location. I am so excited to live in it as is, and I can’t wait to make some changes at the same time.

10. The swing.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

So. Lot’s of stuff going on this week.

1. I quit my job. Scary. I wrote last month about the church talking to me about doing youth stuff full time in the fall. Well, apparently some things shifted around on that front and they’re ready for me to come on board now. So starting April 1, I am in charge of the youth program at GracePointe. Whoa. I am really, really excited, and also slightly terrified. The church has never had a full-time youth person before, and I can’t wait to get started. There are so many things I want to do that I haven’t been able to as a volunteer. There are a lot of really exciting things going on at the church, and I am so glad I get to be a part of it.

2. We bought a house! We’ve been looking and looking and looking, and on Sunday we found something. We were driving around the neighborhood going to open houses, and we went to one that was amazing… and way out of our price range. It was a typical house for the neighborhood, but a master suite and den had been added onto the back. The house next door was also for sale, and appeared to be the same size as the first house was before the addition. So we went to see it, and y’all, I fell in love with it. It’s adorable. Huge yard, big trees, updated fixtures and appliances, 50-year-old refinished hardwoods. So we made an offer, and they accepted it! We close at the end of the May.

Big changes around here! I am exhausted. This has been one crazy week.

I am not good at surprises. I love them, but something always goes wrong.

Not this time, though. This time was perfect.

Last Wednesday was my parents’ 35th anniversary. Their 30th fell the same year I was graduating from college and planning a wedding, as well as when my sister was graduating from high school, so it sadly fell by the wayside. I didn’t want that to happen again.

So this year, after considering several options, Chelsea and I decided that I would fly into town unannounced and the four of us would spend the weekend together. This was perfect, because we are rarely able to make it to Texas during the year and when we do, we have a million places to go and people to see. This time would be all about them.

I flew into town on Thursday night, and my friend Allison picked me up from the airport and took me home. Chelsea met me in the driveway and took me inside, telling our parents to close their eyes because she had a surprise for them.

You know how on reality shows, when people are excited because they might have lots of dollars in their case or they get picked for a one-on-one date or they get tyramail? Picture that kind of excitement on a short woman in her pajamas. It was so fun.

We spent the weekend shopping, including what felt like an entire day at IKEA. We ate excellent food like chicken ceasar salad and lobster pizza and fried flounder and barbecue ribs and tiramisu. We played games and told stories and redecorated a bedroom. And it was fabulous.

(A quick lesson, from me to you: if you are 26 and married with no kids in a family where almost everyone else has been birthing some babies since the age of 18, it might not be the best idea to attend a baby shower with said family for your cousin’s girlfriend. One can only take so many comments about how they’d like to be throwing one for you or how you don’t know how to use a bottle brush before heads begin to roll.)

So happy happy happy anniversary, parents. Thanks for staying together and being awesome. Even if you have selective memory about certain impromptu performances of Vanilla Ice songs back in the day.