Most Talented? Not Here.

If I were to ask any of you, "What's my talent?" I guarantee that 99% of you will answer that I sing. Y'all, I don't just sing. I SING. It's what I do to feed my soul. It's always been how I serve and how I worship. I do it even when I don't realize I'm doing it. I've sung for so long, it's part of who I am. I feel most comfortable in my own skin when I'm singing.

Clay. Hates. It.

Yeah, you heard me. Clay hates when I sing.  He loves music and he listens to all kinds of songs on his ipad.  Anyone elses's singing is just fine. My singing is torture for him. If I sing one note or even talk in a sing-song manner, he loses his shit. I'm not allowed to sing in the car. I get yelled at from the back seat. If I sing in the shower, he will come in the bathroom, screaming and crying real tears, open the shower door, and beg me to stop.  When I sang at my grandfather's funeral, and then three years later at my grandmother's funeral, he buried his head in my husband's lap and squeezed his hands over his years. Whenever I was asked to sing at church, he refused to go. I haven't been asked to sing in over a year, and he has let it be known that he is so glad Mommy isn't singing on the microphone. He was playing soccer in the backyard this afternoon and I took that time to sing some Etta James. He burst through the door screaming at me, demanding I stop. Before you start suggesting I just do it anyway, you have no idea. We have tried to work through this since he was 14 months old. We have worked with his speech therapist. We have worked with his occupational therapist. We have worked with his ABA therapist. We clearly haven't been successful. The only time it's remotely allowed is when it's bedtime. But even then I have to sing the same 5 songs, in the same order, in the same key. He has perfect pitch. Really, bro?

My sweet boy has overcome so many obstacles and has far surpassed my initial expectations. He's smart. He's sweet. He's funny. He. Is. So. Pure. Autism may hide in the shadows most of the time, but it really does rip a stinky fart now and then just to remind you it's there. We spent last week in San Antonio with my best friend and her family. Clay was on cloud 9. We played. We swam. We ate junk food. We stayed up late. It was a wonderful week. We came home and he's terrified to sleep in his own bed. Wanna know why? He's afraid of Adolf Hitler. Adolf. Freaking. Hitler. How in the world does he even know about Adolf Hitler? Because he heard about him on an episode of his favorite tv show, "The Office" and wanted to know more. Hubby gave him the most appropriate description, but the kid knows how to google. Thanks a lot, Michael Scott. Thanks a lot.

Six. More. Days.

So, my last post was way-too-freaking-long-ago, but it's because I've basically been working three full-time jobs. Being a mama to my two, plus being an active realtor, kept me busy enough. Adding the school job on top of it was great, in theory, but...my last day is next week. I love these kiddos, but let me tell you, my ADD game is STRONG right now. It's bad. y'all. I had to get a special pill organizer! It's a sad, sad, day when you're reading Amazon reviews and you pick the right pill organizer based on the fact that "you can remove just the days that you need if you're going on a spontaneous vacay." 

Uh, I have so little spare time that I have to set reminder alarms for alarms

Let's be clear, I can multi-task like a BOSS, but the last week of school has brought out an inner kindergartner in me that I didn't know existed. People are talking at full volume all around me and I'm all "SHUT UP YOU JERKS!!! I AM TRYING TO COUNT PAPERCLIPS!!!" Yeah. It's serious. I'm so grouchy, it feels like I haven't taken my meds in weeks. Or ever. I told my bff today, "If I had a uterus, I guarantee Aunt Flo would show up tomorrow with her doilies and fruit cake." The struggle is REAL.

****I just looked at my post, and saw all the capitalized words. This is a serious situation and I need you to know the depths of my angst.*****

We need to talk about being a 41 1/2 year old mom in May. So many advance notices about things coming up "next year" accompanied by physical exam forms and "end-of-the-year-announcements". So many, "We need you to see if your child lost a retainer in the lost and found." So many, "Hey! It's Sno-cone day tomorrow, so send $75 with your kid!" I. Just. Can't. I'm tapped out. I'm done.

Oh, and did I mention my a/c went out last night? FIX IT JESUS!!!!! The repair guy called at 3:00 to say, "Hey, I'm at your house and nobody is answering the door." Well, yeah, you dumbass!!! Nobody called to tell me you were coming! Who knew? All through April we had freeze warnings and cancelled soccer games for wind chills and temps below freezing. (For the little one. Not for the big one. He plays competitive soccer and they don't give two shits. Ice on the roads and snow on the ground but "7:30 am start time" still sticks.)

That white stuff is for real snow. In Arkansas. In April. 

And then the sweetest, most darling kindergartner walked in at 3:39 with diarrhea running down BOTH legs, I had to go to my happy place. At 4:19. 

Oh, and I love JJ Watt!!!

One job is never enough.

I absolutely love selling houses. I'm good at it, and I get to work with people during one of their most significant life changes. I've had friends become clients as well as clients become friends. I have to say that it's my favorite job I've ever had, My second most favorite job was being the office manager at a pre-school. School is so much fun to me! I knew I was going to be a teacher. I have some of the best memories of my 6th, 7th, and 8th graders and I am proud to still be in touch with so many of them. Growing up, I always played "school" or "secretary", but I was a very specific kind of secretary. I was either a receptionist or the Principal's secretary. 

Now that I really have a handle on how I like to work my real estate career, I thought I'd peruse the local district's job openings to see if there were any clerical positions. It's really a win-win. I'm on my kids' schedule AND I'm busy enough that I don't sit on the couch eating Cheetos all day. Oh, and a bi-weekly paycheck in addition to my Rodan+Fields income would mean I can get the cleaning fairies to come back. 

You know what's coming....

I'm the newest employee at one of the elementary schools in Edmond. I asked Clay if he wanted to come with me to my new school and his response was, "No thank you." Well, alrighty then. Before you ask if I'm teaching again, please know that the answer to that question is "HELL TO THE NAW!!" I have an even better job. I'm the front desk secretary! It's been a long time since I've had to be up, dressed, hair and make-up done, and ready to "people" at 7:30 a.m. Monday changed that. I was so tired on Monday that I was asleep by 7:30. Tuesday, I almost made it to 9:00. Wednesday and Thursday weren't any better. Today, I had a coffee at 2:30 because my sentences weren't making any sense. Here's hoping I make it to 10:00. HA! Aside from the sleepy struggles, it's great, y'all! I get all the benefits of playing with my school co-workers and being around kids, but I don't have to worry about all that teaching stuff getting in the way.

Kids are HAH-LARRY-US, but kids with Autism hold a special place on the hilarity scale. One in particular felt it necessary to tell the principal he yelled at another kid because that other kid was "PISSIN' HIM OFF!!" Autism doesn't have a filter, kids. You wanna know if that dress makes you look fat? Ask a kid on the Spectrum. 

I feel like I'm a bit of an expert now, and I want to share what I've learned after a year-and-a-half as PTO President (had to resign when I took the job) and one week as the "new lady in the office". Here are a few tips for those of you with kiddos in the school system. 

1) If any employee asks to see your ID, even though you have had 18 kids go through that school, please don't give them any shit. IT MIGHT BE HER FIRST DAY, MAN! 

2) Eat lunch with your kids as much as you can and give them lots and lots of kisses, even in front of their friends. I've watched 5th grade boys wipe off their mamas' kisses, but turn to walk back to class with a genuine smile on their faces.

3) Nobody, and I mean NO. BAH. DEE. is judging you for coming up to school in your sweatpants, no bra, messy bun, and no makeup. We're too busy being jealous.

4) If soup is on the menu and your kid is buying lunch, make sure that there are some extra clothes available for when the soup explodes.

5) I guarantee you'd be a bajillionaire if you could invent a mister that only sprayed kid-friendly Lysol as kids walked in and out of the door.

6) Respect the carpool! That's right. Hell hath no fury like a mom still on her first cup of coffee in a minivan. You breaking the rules and jacking the system only makes it harder for you in the end. Moms AND dads will join in solidarity to keep your cheating ass stuck in the parking lot and unable to get out. Oh, and for the love of all things good and holy, the moment your kids get out of the car is not the appropriate time to engage in a long conversation. Discuss whether or not Kesha has lost her edge since dropping the $ around the dinner table, not the car line.

Oh, how I've missed you!!

Oh my goodness gracious on a stick!!!! I have missed sharing my innermost thoughts with you all so much! Between Thanksgiving and Christmas I start planning my goals for the following year and getting back to blogging was at the top of my list of goals for 2018!! Somewhere between dog surgeries, selling houses, and trying to keep the foul stank (yes, I meant to type stank) of soccer cleats and shin guards out of my car, I dropped blogging. Well, fear not, my pretties. Mama's back!

We have so much to catch up on, but I'll just give a quick little run down of things on my mind lately.

1) I have the coolest kids ever. I never hid the fact that there was a good chunk of time that I worried about my relationship with my oldest. He was not my favorite person. I always loved him, but I didn't like him. At all. He was kind of a jerk, y'all. To everyone else he was wonderful, polite, and helpful. To me? Not so much. To me he was a total jackass. I can now say without hesitation that he's pretty much my favorite person in the history of the world. He's a lot like me which can be awesome and awful at the same time. Luckily for both of us, 90% of the time, it's the former. As much as he's like me, he's like his dad. He doesn't like to draw attention to himself or put himself out there in social situations. He really likes to hang back and watch it all happen. He's a fantastic athlete. Runs like a gazelle and still loves soccer. At 12 years old he's 5' 5 1/2" and weighs in at a whopping 97 lbs. I don't know how. He eats constantly. Con. Stant. Ly. Both of the boys do. My baby boy isn't such a baby anymore, but he's still MY baby. He still says things that are so innocent. For example, "Mommy, I really want to see one of those 4 times 4 trucks. I bet a 16 year old drives it because 4 times 4 is 16." (Thinking.....) "Oh, buddy, you mean a 4 'by' 4?" "Yeah, see, look. It says '4x4' on the back." I love his little mind. When I think about how far he's come and all the people that have helped him get there, I seriously want to go full Oprah on them and give them all a car. I couldn't have ever gotten here without them.

2) I really and truly thought Nick Saban's head was going to explode during the National Championship game. Like, for real. I was sad to see Georgia lose, but even more sad that Alabama won. 

3) My body is quitting on me. I ran my last race in October 2016. After that race, my doctor told me I needed to take some time off. I said, "Oh, like a few weeks?" She said, "No, like a year." (cue the sound of the record needle being ripped off) So, I took a year off and then started abusing my feet in other ways and after a year of pounding, they have said, "Look-a here, Sister. We ain't playin'. WE SAID NO MORE!!!" What is this fresh hell I've stepped into? My feet hurt all the time. I've succumbed to Birkenstocks. My hair is almost 100% gray without my hair magician, Janae. (But, hey, I can wear it curly if I want to!) Most disturbing of all, is that I can't identify 90% of the songs on the radio or pick the singers out of a line-up. The music scene is pretty terrible lately. I find myself listening to more 80's and 90's music on Pandora or classic hymns if I listen to anything at all. Does all of this officially mean I'm old now? Shit.

 

4) I miss my Lola Jane. We had to help her cross the Rainbow Bridge in September. We don't know how old the poor girl was, but Sister Saggy Tits sure had a great 4 years with us. She ruled this house like a queen. We should all strive to be a little like Lola.

Go against the norm.

"Oh, that laundry is clean? Here, let me lay on it.That way you don't have to worry about folding it." 

Live with determination.

"Yeah, I know my legs are short, but if you leave that loaf of Kings Hawaiian Bread on the counter, I'll show you how high I can jump!"

Protect those you love.

"It's a hard job to sit and stare out this window between 3 hour naps. What if a cat tries to come in and kill us all!!"

5) Peach, pink, tan, and all flesh colored leggings should be BANNED!!! I can't tell you how many wrecks I've almost had taking my son to school because some poor gal didn't have me in her life to tell her, "No, girl! Just, NO!!"

I'm back, y'all.