The Facebook Status' (or Statuses? Status's? Stati?) That Never Were

Hi guys.

Last year, when I wrote my posts, I wasn't working.  Well, I was tutoring in the evenings, but I wasn't working during the day which means my kids weren't going to daycare, and I wasn't spending all day every day in a crazy rush from place to place.  Therefore, usually something would happen and it'd occur to me that I'd want to write about it, so I'd spend the rest of the day more of less writing the post in my head.

This year, as I just said, my life feels nuts.  I actually thought that once my kids started going to school full time, I'd be less busy.  (In fact, I said this out loud to one of my Texas relatives over Thanksgiving last week, and she flat out laughed in my face).  Somehow, my time has gone the way of my bank account- it feels like I should have more, but when I look at the cold hard reality of things, there's never as much there as I feel there should be.

It's a sad thing (but a darn good metaphor, if I do say so myself).

My point is that I never have a moment to mentally write posts anymore.  The only things I mentally compose are my Facebook status's.  And lately I've been in such a foul mood that the one's I've come up with aren't even fit to be posted.  I fear people would defriend me, or at least stage an intervention for my anger issues.  Here's just a few from the last couple weeks:

"Day 4 of the huge pile of white socks sitting on the couch cushion, Day 4 of no family member showing any interest in moving them into appropriate locations.  It's a fascinating social experiment."

"My daughter just wrote 'I love Davy Crockett.' in marker across her vanity mirror. Help."

"Dear Santa, all I want for Christmas is a sandbag that is about the approximate size and weight of the damn cat.  That way I can at least feel what it'd be like to get to kick the s*#% out of it."

"Dear Santa, please give me a new family."

"Dear Santa, scratch that.  Just give them a replacement mother.  Thank you."

"Does anyone else have a husband that doesn't know the difference between a frying pan and a sauce pan, or is it just mine?"

That last one gave me the idea for this one:

"There should be a social network created exclusively for the purpose of venting about your spouse with no repercussions to one's marriage."

See?  I'm poisonous.

However, I remembered that I had a blog that I've been ignoring.  Technically, I can write whatever I want since no one really has to read this if they don't want to.  As for the repercussions and consequences,  I'm pretty sure I've only really offended Mr. C and maybe PETA.  One of those parties, I'm pretty sure I can handle.

I'm not saying which one.

You all have a good night.

Thank You

I had big plans for this Veterans Day post.  I really did.  I had planned to  upload a picture that my father had found of himself on the internet a couple of years ago.  He was reading something Vietnam related and saw a picture of a young soldier jumping out of a helicopter, whom he recognized as himself.  Crazy, huh?  He says he remembers at the time seeing a journalist out of the corner of his eye, but being that he was getting dropped off in the middle of the jungles of Vietnam, he had other things to worry about.

I was also going to include this great photo of my grandfather with his WWII buddies. It was taken out here in the desert before they were shipped out, and I have to confess that one of the reasons I was going to share it was so that you all could see what a bunch of hotties my grandpa and his friends were. But then I remembered the lesson that Back To The Future taught us all, and I realized that such statements could have serious repercussions. So I'll just say that it's my opinion that men of the 1940's were much better looking than men today and we'll leave it at that.

Wow.  So far this a really reverent and moving post. 

Anyway, I was going to upload those images and write about how proud I am of my father and grandfather's Veteran status.  But of course, I never got around to asking for the images.  

I know.  Me.  Not getting around to something.  Shocking.  

So, I'm relegated to just uploading a short clip of PG's speaking part at her school's Veterans Day performance.  She's the last one to speak and in case you can't understand my shy girl, she says "This government is of the people, for the people, and by the people, so you have to do your part!"  

I thought she performed it wonderfully.  

The whole program was, in fact, wonderfully done, but it was the end part (after my camera ran out of battery) that I really wish I had videotaped.  The teachers ran a slideshow of pictures that the first grader's families had sent in of their loved ones in service.  While the slideshow was running, the kids sang the following song:

When I lay my head down every night 

and I go to sleep in peace

I can stay there knowing all is well

while you're standing on your feet.

Keeping watch, protecting, shore to shore

In the air and oceans too

Defending freedom at all costs

For the Red, White, and the Blue. 

To the soldiers who have travelled on 

to countries far and near,

In peace and war you pay the price

For the cause you hold so dear. 

Thank you, oh Thank you

Men and women brave and strong, 

Because you've fought so gallantly

we sing this grateful song.  

Between the images on the screen and the sweet 6 year old voices singing the words above, there was not a dry eye in the house.   

The first stanza in particular spoke to my heart.  I've been thinking a lot, since becoming a parent, of how lucky we are to not know war on our soil.  We're spoiled, really.  I can't imagine that terror that would come with having bombs dropping around us and trying to keep our children safe.  For so many people in the world, that's a reality.  For us Americans, it's a blessing that we've made it this far without knowing that fear.

Thank you, to all the Vets out there. I know that I can never truly understand the depths of the sacrifice that you made for me and our country.  For every vet out there today who can not feel safe in a room without having their backs against a wall, who can't hear the sound of a helicopter without thinking about medics and body bags, who can't talk about what happened because it's too hurtful to remember, who lost brothers, who lost faith, or who are just haunted, I know I can't understand what of your life you've sacrificed for our country.  I can only say thank you, and hope that someday God gives you the answers to the questions you may be asking, and peace in your heart.

You all have a good night. 

My Roo is Two

Dear Baby Roo,

Today you turned 2.  Which means that 2 years ago tonight I was in the hospital holding a brand new chubby-cheeked you.  You looked like this:

Well, to be honest, more often you looked like this:

but that's because you had a high fever for the first few days.  We got it all under control and you settled down.  

Thank you for that, by the way.  My hospital room mate, wherever she may be, thanks you too. 

Two years ago tonight was also the night that I shouted out the word "ouchie" when I was deep in the middle of labor with you.  I realize that since that time you have heard a wide variety of swear word pass through my lips, but I really do hope that you appreciate the fact that I kept it clean while bringing you into the world. 

Seriously.  Appreciate it, because when I think back on it, it's pretty embarrassing.  AND I missed out on a perfectly legit opportunity to drop an f bomb publicly.  

Anyway.

However fast the first year flew, this second year flew by even faster.  Here you are on your birthday last year:

Sorry 'bout the dumb crown.  At the time I thought it was cute, but now I see that it was just kinda dumb.  If it makes you feel any better, I have a million photos of myself in the 90's that follow that same precedent.  

Here you are last winter:

Walking! 

Last spring you suddenly got all 'big girl' on us:

And by last summer you were completely out of the baby stage and doing all kinds of crazy tricks in the pool:

That little scream you do when you jump in just kills me every time.  

Anyway Roo, you're getting big way too fast, but your dad and I have been at this parenting stuff for long enough now to know that we just have to accept that fact.  We love that you're the baby of our family and I know we love on you way too much, but I just ask that you humor us for a little longer because it makes us so happy to do it.  

Plus, we can't help it.  It's your fault for having really yummy cheeks. 

So, happy birthday my Roo!  We love everything about you: the way you twirl your hair when you're tired, the way you over-enunciate the 'L's in your name, the way you misunderstand the use of possessive pronouns by saying things like "happy my birthday" or "hello my kitty".  Most of all though, we just love YOU.  Thanks for being our caboose.

Love to the Moon and Back, 

Mommy and Daddy

P.S.- I also want to take this opportunity to thank you for whatever in utero switch you turned on in me that's responsible for my Kettle Chip obsession.  It all started with a pregnancy craving, but it's turned into much, much more.  While my thighs and ass may take issue with it, my taste buds do not.  Thank you.   

Halloween/Birthday Queen

Hey there!

Another Halloween, another birthday come and gone.  I'll get to the Halloween part in just a minute, but first I want to address the birthday part.   I turned 36 yesterday, which means I'm offically old.  I've decided that this is true.

Don't even try to change my mind.

I will say though, in my old age I've come to the realization that there are birthdays and then there are Facebook birthdays.  The regular old birthday that one celebrates with their family and beloved friends are invaluable and must never ever ever be done away with.  However, the Facebook birthday?  That is something else entirely.  It's like one's own little social media version of It's A Wonderful Life, where you get to be reminded of everyone's lives you've been a part of, and everyone who's been a part of your life as well.  Yesterday, in a 24 hour period, I received well wishes from people who met me in the hospital on the day I was born, to my elementary school friends, to former high school bff's, work colleagues, mommy friends, neighbors.... you get the idea.  I felt very loved and grateful all day long.

I know.  I'm getting sappy in my old age.  I need to get a grip because really, it's just Facebook.  It's what people do.

Still.

Anyway, I'm posting tonight because I promised a couple of weeks ago to show you guys the final result of our Halloween House of Horrors and I'm trying to be better about following up on things.  Especially since I've failed you all on Fall Food Fridays.

And Teacher Talk Tuesdays.

And I never really got around to doing any kind of regular book-related post.

Is anybody even still out there?

Anyway, I hate to subject you all to another video with me narrating, but there was no other way around it.  I also hate to subject you to poor quality video, but again, there was no way around it.  The Flip doesn't come with any type of night vision recording device (that I know of), so I got all MacGyver on you guys and just lit the Flip with a flashlight- which amounted to very limited vision.  Basically, you're going to be looking at darkness and blurs for the next minute twenty.   Sorry.  But I've done what I could to give you guys an idea of why Mr. C proudly holds the honor of having the scariest house on the block, and it's all thanks to 9, mostly.
You'll see why here:

Halloween '10 from Tacy Cauthron on Vimeo.







Is that costume 9's wearing freaky or what? This one group of girls got so scared that they did a lap through our house and out our garage door, while all my family and friends watched and laughed.

Empathy is not really a strong trait around here.

Anyway, that's (almost) all I have for you tonight.

Just a quick aside- a couple of weeks ago a friend of mine posted on FB that she "loathes Halloween" and I seriously had to take a moment and talk myself down from defriending her.  I'm glad that I did, because in real life she is a wonderful and warm person.  It's just a tad hard for me to not take it personal when someone doesn't like Halloween.  With me, it's one of those things that are up there with politics and religion.  If you don't like Halloween and you happen to be my friend, well then, we'll just avoid the entire topic altogether like a big fat elephant in the room.

For those of you who do 'get' Halloween and love it as much as I do, I  want to say thanks for celebrating!  I hope your day was filled with all kinds of parties and spooky fun.

Have a good night!