I’ve been busy! I laid around Saturday, went to a little kid’s birthday party, and laid around some more. Sunday I ate breakfast at IHOP with the fam, came home and laid around inside, went on the back porch and laid around outside, and then I had to get a shower! It’s not easy being me. I hope everyone had a good Mother’s Day, by the way.
Today I have another checkup with New Doctor. She’ll probably be going over everything I need to do/bring for Wednesday’s induction–I have to be at the hospital at 6:30 a.m., no doubt so that she can deliver my baby just in time for lunch. Fine. Whatever. I’m going to have a baby in 2 days. (Or less, but most likely 2.)
Onto other things, Caleb’s been growing out his goatee and sideburns. He looks a little like Wolverine and he’s thinking about shaving his head. I’d say it’s time for him to find a real job now, but I’ve really liked hanging out with him. That broker-deal business seems to be working out okay–and if a couple more guys come through for him, it’ll be a lot better than okay. This could be something Caleb could really do, and do from home, and do well. I’m so excited to see him pursuing this, because even when he finds an actual job, he could keep this gig on the side–the extra income made from just a few phone calls and faxes a week would do more than just help us out.
Cheyenne came home Friday afternoon almost in tears–kids at school had been making fun–serious fun–mean fun–of her clothes (crazy T-shirt, jean skirt, black hair ribbon, dangly earrings, polka-dot leggings, and black rhinestone-y cowgirl boots). Granted, Caleb and I chuckle to ourselves every morning as she walks out the door in one outrageous (ridiculous) outfit after another, but that’s just Cheyenne, and we’d hate to see her conform just because she let some punk kids get to her. After a short pep talk and a few suggestions ("Tell those jerks at least you’re allowed to pick your own clothes! That at least you’re original! That at least you can remember to change your own underwear!") Cheyenne tromped out to the bus today in a pink tank-top, a white sweater, pink leggings under black capri’s, the same black hair ribbon, and (Dear God) the cowgirl boots. How gutsy is she?
She wants to sign up for Choir next year, along with band. She wants to join the Pep Squad, even though she has no clue what it is that club actually does. She wants to start ballet lessons in the fall. She wants a bike for her birthday. It might sound like just a long list of wants from a spoiled child, but to Caleb and I, it’s a kind of a relief–she’s finally motivated to DO something–anything–and I’m sorry, but Pep Squads, ballet lessons and a bike? Could be worse (read: more expensive). I can imagine: "Mom, I want to be a Cheerleader. I want to take strip cardio classes and gymnastics, and I want a motorized scooter and a Nintendo DSLite for my birthday." And I can imagine me: "Fuuuuuuck no." And yes, I’d be forced to say the f-word in that instance.
Mia’s Mia. She’s more excited than anyone about the baby. She’s been rockin’ this sweet set of golf clubs (see pictures) that our neighbor-friends picked up for her–and I mean DAMN! They’re nicer than anything Caleb’s ever used before. Mia, and her wee little pink golf bag, with her wee little clubs. Caleb’s been taking her out and working with her here and there…she’s got the stance down, and she’ll tink those balls across the yard like nobody’s business. It’s ADORABLE. When our golf course finally opens up (as it was scheduled to in Spring 2005, then Fall 2005, then Spring 2006, etc.) she’s already got plans to "go golfing with Daddy and Mr. Billy." It’s so on.