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Mother of the Year Goes to.... Not Me

Every morning I go to the gym to exercise. I love it because I have a lot of friends there (it's my adult interaction for the day...hahah...but seriously...), endorphins are released, I feel powerful and strong....etc. Fast forward to about 10 minutes after I arrive home.

Kids are fighting over who grabbed the box of cereal first.

Tears are rolling down cheeks from, "Cameron looked at me in a mean way."

Fights are breaking out between who has to be the flippin' monkey in the middle...

You get the idea.

So pretty much all the good I do at 5:30 in the wee early morning hours gets completely undone. (Perhaps I should schedule my workouts to after the kids leave for school instead?)

Anyway, today was no different. The kids actually all got ready on their own really well without any fights. They had a good 20 minutes to kill before we had to leave for school. They decided to play a game (but not the blasted Monkey in the Middle game...No! No! I banned that game [and 'jinx&#…

Middle School Years

Mom was always a worry-wart. If Lance was late coming home from something and she saw a police car drive by, she’d start crying wondering if the cop was coming to bear her some bad news (although it turned out she had forgotten he called her to say he’d be late). She used to fret over the smallest things. Unfortunately she passed that trait on to me. I remember it was my birthday (around 10 or so), and Mom hadn’t come home for a while. I heard an ambulance in a distance and started crying wondering if she had been in a car accident. By the time she got home I was hysterical. It turned out she had gone shopping to get me some birthday presents.

Growing up we always had a dog. We started out with Puff (a little white dog we had back at our house in West Valley). Someone fed it antifreeze around Christmas time a few years later and she died. Then we got Peaches from an Animal Shelter. She had been abused and was scared of the garden hose. She also didn’t like Spence—she bit him as much as she could. She was really cute, though. She died from being hit by a car. Then we got Bear, a beautiful golden-retriever/yellow lab mix. He was the biggest dog we had ever had. He loved car rides and to jolt outside whenever someone came over. The only way to retrieve him was to pick him up in our car. Bear also loved to chase cars, and was hit three or four times, but he always survived them. Then one day Bear ran away, and never came back.

Middle school came and went. Lots of people hate middle school, but to be honest, I never really hated it. I just liked high school and college a LOT more. Middle school was during my “awkward” years. And kids are MEAN at that age. I was always really good at art from a young age, and took some art classes while at Indian Hills Middle School. I did really well, but didn’t seem to have enough time for it when basketball season rolled around. 

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