Category Archives: events

Mother’s Day in 5

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1. My child is OBSESSED with flags. It all started with his grandparent’s American flag they had hanging off of their porch. They let him play with it once, and ever since then it’s been his passion in life. I finally ordered for him a few miniature flags to play with. I got him a Texas flag, an American flag, and a German flag. I got him the German flag because he’s like 1/2 German, quantitatively, with my husband and mine’s blood put together, and it pairs perfectly with the Texas flag because my dad’s family is actually German Texan. I gave them to him today and he seriously WOULD NOT PUT THEM DOWN. He is asleep with them right now.

2. Babies. Very cute documentary film about 4 babies from 4 different parts of the world. Vance took me to see it this evening. Sweet movie, but not one I would recommend seeing in theaters, especially if you are bothered by other people adding dialogue to movies.

3. Family. We loaded up the van and drove down to Houston for the weekend. We hung out with Vance’s mom and step-grandmother. We ate rich, delicious pork, watched premium satellite, and got drunk. And Deven played with flags.We returned home early this afternoon, and we are EXHAUSTED. It was fun.

4. Restaurants are impossible on mother’s day. We ate at Chili’s. All I wanted was a bowl of soup, and I swear, Chili’s CANNOT do soup. All they have are these funky southwest-style soups that are just gross. All I wanted was a bowl of Minestrone or something light for my ailing tummy.

5. My hubby is not feeling well, but he still managed to make Mother’s Day a good day for me. I know he would have preferred to see Kick-Ass or Iron Man 2, but he didn’t even so much as protest when I told him I wanted to see Babies. Other than that, he’s just plain great. I’m so very lucky to have him around :)

Happy Mother’s Day, y’all!

Patterns of organization

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It is amazing that, after the last 2 days, I am actually sitting here willingly writing a blog post.

Yesterday was horrible. It wasn’t supposed to be, and it certainly didn’t have to be, but it turned out that way. I did it all to myself because I must really, genuinely hate myself.

I got up yesterday with the intent of taking my c-test, which is basically the one and only exam you take in English Comp I. This is how the whole crazy grading system works: You have to write 5 assigned throughout the course, and on those papers you don’t  actually get letter or number grades; your papers are either accepted, or need edits or revisions. Once you have written the first 4, you can take the c-test, which is where you sit in a computer lab and write an analytical paper in response to an article. On that, if the paper is accepted, you get a number grade. The number grade doesn’t really matter all that much, all that matters is the paper is accepted. If it isn’t accepted, you can take the test again. Once all of your 5 assigned papers are accepted and you have taken the c-test, you are basically done, and you have a c in the course. If your GPA matters to you,  you can  write 2 more papers to secure an A in the course.

My intention, at the very beginning, was to get an A. I had no idea what the hell I was getting myself into. I took English Comp I because it was a required course for my degree. I didn’t realize at the time, having not really participated in an actual high school English course, that I hated academic writing as much as I do. I am good at it, which feels good to say. My teacher has loved every paper I have turned in. I love that I am good at something I hate so much. I hate the expectations that are involved in academic writing;  what you are writing has to adhere to a certain format. I love writing, hence why I have this blog, but I am definitely more a literary writer. I am naturally a bit more colloquial (in other words, I haven’t had much training.)

Anyway, I went to take my c-test on Saturday morning. On that day my paper 5 was also due, and was not finished. That was the first mistake I had made. My paper 5 was an issue-research paper, and the topic I had chosen was so much more difficult than I had imagined: paid organ donation. I was just going to take the test, which I had been told takes about 3 hours, and then come home and wrap the stupid paper up. I skimmed over a sample c-test, made sure I didn’t have too much to drink, and went for it.

The article I had been given was actually not that bad. It was extremely simple, but for some reason, I couldn’t wrap my head around identifying the organizational patters, or how to demonstrate the main purpose. I was extraordinarily overwhelmed. I went in at 11, thinking it wouldn’t take me until 4 to finish the stupid paper, but by 3 all I had was an introductory paragraph.  Time was ticking and I had nothing. I didn’t know what else to do, so I handed in what I had, because the thought of having to sit in that room any longer made me crazy. I blew the c-test. That alone meant that any hope at getting an A in the course was shattered.

I didn’t have time to mope because my paper 5 was still due. I knew I couldn’t finish it on my own, so I went to my brother’s house and asked if he could help. My brother, if I haven’t already pointed this out before, is was one of greatest human beings alive. Seriously, he deserves a medal just for being who he is. He agreed to help me round up better sources than I had gathered. I thought we would have the paper done by 8 at the latest, but that wasn’t happening either. When it came to gathering sources for the arguments in opposition to Paid Organ Donations, there was next to nothing. What does that tell you? Thats a whole other blog post.

Anyway, I didn’t finish the paper until 1 am. AFTER the due date. So that’s blown.

All of this forced me to reevaluate my plans for this class. I decided to not pursue anything beyond a C in the class. I still need a lot of practice in analyzing articles, and I am not going to be ready in time to write the B paper. I was really devastated when I came to this realization. I had such high expectations for myself, as always, but I need to put some things into perspective. I hate writing papers, it’s almost ALWAYS torture for me. Why would I willingly put myself through more of this? At the end of the day, if I get a c in this class and a b in my math class, it really isn’t going to hurt my GPA that much. I will still have plenty of opportunities to bring that back up before I apply to the Sonography program. And really, does this grade change that my teacher liked my papers? Does it change anything in my life at all? Does it make me any less of a person? Does it really matter at all? No. Not in the least bit.

So there you have it.I am going to retake the c-test and be done with it. The relief is tremendous.

The Deven Awards

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I bring you, The Deven Story To End All Deven Stories.

This morning I went outside to feed our dog. I turned around to go inside and low and behold, the door is locked. It’s something new that I have noticed Deven has been doing when someone goes out the back door. He turns the bottom lock behind them, but luckily someone else who is capable of unlocking the door is usually inside. Not the case this time.

Because I knew Deven could lock a door, I figured I could get him to unlock it. No. He just stared at me. Went about his business. Found my car keys and decided to set the horn off. So I am outside banging on the door, yelling at Deven to unlock it, crying for help, all while the car horn is going crazy and Deven is standing there holding the keys. Mocking me. Laughing at me. “Looky what I got that you CLEARLY NEED.” His revenge for every night when I lock him in his room at bed time.

I live right across the street from the complex office, so I tried to get the gate to open so I could run for help. We’ve had trouble with the latch that keeps the gate shut. It’s been broken in the past. It can easily be opened from the outside, but it’s really, really, REALLY hard to unlatch from the inside of the yard. So I am jerking with this thing, crying for help, and freaking out. I can’t open the gate and I can’t jump the fence. I’m too short and I am wearing crocks, for god’s sake. No one is outside to hear my cries. Deven is alone in the house with my car keys. You get the idea. It’s total chaos.

So I find a brick and I decide the only way I am going to resolve this situation is break the window on the door. Turns out the windows are double paned, and it’s not easy as I thought it would be. I bang on the window twice, barely leaving a scratch before I realize I am about to break a window with a two year old inside by himself. As soon as that glass shatters he will run right for that door, and then we’ll have an emergency room bill along with a bill from the landlord for the window.

So I take the brick and bash against the gate lock and it pops right open. Just like that. Wow.

I ran across the street, my face streaked with tears, my hair a mess, in my less-than finest pajamas. The maintenance guy comes and unlocks the door for me. Deven is sitting in his high chair (another new thing he has learned to do) and playing with the keys looking as innocent as can be. So I give him breakfast. I am delaying his punishment. You never know, he may do something adorable enough for me to let this one go.