Now it's time to choose...

Take the poll to determine the name of Little Girl Fish! If you choose "E," leave your answer in the comments section.


Name that fish!

I stopped by the pet store today and picked up a new baby fish. She's a fiesty little girl (really tiny) and only about a month old. She's kind of grey colored now but that'll change as she gets older. Her fin and tail have a pretty purple-y, blue-y, green-y sheen, and she has two long blue horizontal stripes running from her nose to her tail. I'll leave it up to y'all--what should I name her???

Leave your answer in the comments section, and I'll pick my top favorites. Then I'll poll y'all to figure out a name for Little Girl!


Another dream

Edited to add: My sweet fish Henry the 2nd died this afternoon. I'll miss the little guy; he was such a social fish. He always swam out to "greet" me when I walked in the room.

I had a series of made-no-sense dreams last night. One, however, was different.

I was grocery shopping, mindlessly pushing my cart through the aisles and trying to justify buying a bag of sour cream & onion potato chips, because let's face it, we all know they'll be gone within a few hours but still I haven't had them in so long and have been so good lately. I look up from squinting at the nutrition label and see Mr. R. and the girls. He's pushing them in a shopping cart, just as I did when I used to take the girls to the store. They don't see me but he and I make eye contact; my eyes burn and I quickly look down. When I look up again they're gone.

Later, standing in the checkout line, he comes up to me. The girls aren't with him. "Just tell me," he says urgently, his face close to mine, "why you left. Why you quit. Just tell me."

Apparently I have a stronger grip on what I want to say in my dreams. In my dream I have no problem looking him in the eyes and telling him firmly, "Because you and Mrs. R. were literally driving me crazy. They way you treated each other, the way you treated the girls...I just couldn't take it anymore."

And then I walked away.

When I woke up from my dream, I felt better. About the R.'s situation, and life in general. I think that dream gave me a bit of closure, for which I am so grateful.


Flashback Friday and a meme

I feel like I'm posting a TON lately. I guess that makes up for having no internet for 5 days at Dream School!

This week's Flashback Friday is a two-parter. I couldn't decide between two different pictures. I could have waited to use one for next week, but let's face it, there are too darn many cute pictures of me that I have an infinite supply. Y'all are going to have Flashback Friday nightmares for years.

This first one I love. It's taken in my old kitchen. We moved when I was 12 but I remember every detail of that kitchen--I LOVED it. I also vividly remember the little plastic table I'm sitting at. I'm with our former next-door neighbors, and my practically best friends growing up, Sam and Lauren. I'm the youngest-looking one in the blue dress, probably trying to think of a way to annoy poor Sam next.

P.S. I do believe those are "Little Mermaid" jellies on my feet. I LOVED those shoes.

The next one...well, let's just say I should have taken it as a warning years ago. I'm on the left, and my little sister is on the right, standing on top of and inside the our dollhouse (notice a trend of how we like to abuse our toys?). As you can see, little sis is standing taller than I am in the picture. Well...little sister also passed me in height (without the aid of stepstools or dollhouses) a lo-o-o-ong time ago. It's really not fair.

I do, however, really like my pink slippers. I have no recollection of those whatsoever, which makes me sad, but I secretly delight in knowing that I've always had an affection for poufy, comfortable footwear.

Annnnd now it's time for the long-overdue meme. Sorry it's taken forever, Carole!

The rules:
1. Link to the tagger and post these rules on your blog.
B. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some weird, some random.
III. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs. Lastly, let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

1. I seem to enjoy having multiple pets with the same name. I already told you I've had two fish named Henry, but I've also had a hamster and a gerbil, both named Sweetie.

2. I eat one of these every single night (that they're in the house. I actually need to go buy some because we've been out for almost a week. It's a tragedy, really).

3. I'm NOT a dog person. I love my dog, and I love D's dogs. After that, it takes me quite a while to warm up to other dogs. I prefer cats (I know, I know. Hush).

4. If I ever get lung cancer, it'll be because of my beloved car, Damien. He has a leak or problem that no mechanic so far has been able to fix that causes the horrible smell of gasoline to come out of the air conditioning vents, especially when I'm stopped at a light or stop sign. It's become a habit for me to turn my air conditioning off right before I stop so I don't end up reeking of gasoline. He also smells when I accelerate.

5. I used to hate scary movies. I refused to watch them. Then I went through a period of loving them, especially this genius of a film: The Evil Dead. Now I hate them again. I haven't watched one in quite a while. Something to do with paranoia.

6. One of my favorite meals is a toasted peanut butter and jelly sandwich (on wheat) with dil pickle chips on top. Don't knock it til you try it--it's sooooo good. (D. will swear that my being a vegetarian has ruined my taste buds.)

7. When telemarketers would call, I used to answer the phone in French and pretend like I spoke no English. That way, I thought, they'd leave me alone. Well, one day I actually got a telemarketer who spoke French far better than I. All I got out of the conversation was that he was excited to finally meet someone who spoke French in the U.S. Oops.

Uhhhh...here comes the hardest part. I swear, it feels like I'm back in high school again. And I'm wayyyyy to lazy to link to all these people since I have to manually type in the html code, but I swear I will leave comments on their respective blogs.

I tag:
My sister
(those 4 in an attempt to get them to BLOG again!)
annnd uhhhh...I don't know. Whoever else wants to participate. I know, I fail at this type of thing.


Who knew watching TV could be so stressful?

A conversation on the couch last night, between Natty's 3rd youngest sister (age 7) and me. Her 4th sister, age 5, was also in the room. We were watching Zoey 101 which, if you don't know, stars Jamie Lynn Spears. The pregnant one.

Bean: "My friend told me that she (Jamie Lynn) is going to have a baby."
Me: "Uhhh...yeah, she is."
Bean: "But she's not married."
Me *cringing, dreading what's coming next*: "Mmmm...nope, she's not."
Bean: "But I just don't GET it! How can you have a baby when you're not married? How can she have a baby since she's not married???"
Me: "Uhhhh....." *wracking brain for how to answer* "You know, I'm not exactly sure..."
Bean *leaning in, eyes wide, whispering*: "But some of my friends know!"
Me: "Bath time!"


Y'all are the third to know

Dream School is a go. I'm sending in my check tomorrow!



I had a nightmare tonight. I'm actually up and blogging because I'm trying to distract myself from it. So far, no luck, but my mother always says it helps to talk about it, so here I am.

In my nightmare my mother is dead, somehow, and my father and sister and I are together, plus two little boys. I'm not sure if they're my boys, or just boys I'm taking care of, but they're with us. We've moved somewhere up north, in the middle of nowhere, in a two-story log cabin. There is snow everywhere. Next to us there is a random hamburger drive-in, but other than that, there is nothing.

In my nightmare we've just moved in and we've for some reason hired a live-in housekeeper. She is pretty and plump and blonde. She arrives on our first day and sets to work on cleaning our garage. That is where I find her, the next morning, slumped over, dead. She's been stabbed with something (in my nightmare I think it's a metal ruler of sorts).

Somehow we have a new housekeeper the next day. I'm not quite sure what happened with the body of the first one. But the new one is African American, tall, and slender. She is very young, around my age, and very sweet. Her first task is to complete the job that housekeeper #1 didn't--cleaning out the garage. The next morning I come downstairs into the garage and find her, too, slumped over in the exact same spot, stabbed, murdered, dead.

I remember at that point starting to panic. I run to check on the boys, my boys?, and they are fine, asleep in a little yellow room on beanbags. I find my father and tell him we've got to get out of here. He shows me his hand--he's been stabbed too, not a killing kind of stab, but almost like a warning--as if whoever killed our housekeepers would be back for him.

At that moment I see two police cars appear at the drive-in, but for some reason my father won't let me call out to him, or we can't call out to them, or something. But he goes upstairs to pack, and the little boys are still asleep, and my sister and I are packing downstairs.

It's at this point that I notice our front door and front wall of the house are primarily windows. I notice a man standing at the bottom of the stairs of our front porch, and he's carrying something. I can't remember if it was a gun or a weapon, but in my nightmare I know it was meant to kill us.

He sees my sister and me and calls out, "I need to speak to your father." I tell him that my father isn't available, and that he should try again later. (Years of answering the telephone at my house as a young child have trained me to say just that.) But that doesn't deter the man. I notice he has on a red plaid vest and blue jeans, as well as an unidentifiable shirt. As I sit here now, I'm trying to picture his face as I saw him in the nightmare, but I can't. The faces of the fathers of several of my friends run through my head instead.

The man walks closer toward our house. As he steps foot on our bottom stair, I really panic. "DAD!" I remember calling, "I NEED YOUR HELP!," but I am frustrated because my voice is not loud enough, he can't hear me. The man is at our front door now, and my sister and I are crouching on the floor huddled together. The man lifts the object to break our window, and BOOM, I wake up.


In retrospect, it's another situation in which I cannot protect those I love. My mother is gone in my nightmare, and I am the woman of the house (though in real life I'd never see it that way), and yet I cannot protect my father, sister, two little boys.


While in my nightmare I was sure I was going to die. I didn't, in this one, because I woke up before. But I have died in a nightmare. A man broke into my house midday with a gun. I remember being flat on the floor halfway in my kitchen and living room. My father was beside me, and was D, all on the floor. One by one he shot us all. My father was the first to die. I somehow knew my body would fail second, and though I felt no pain I remember vividly the few seconds before it happened. I remember reaching out and clutching D's hand and looking into her eyes, thinking how surreal it was--any second, I was going to be dead. Gone. No longer of this earth. In my mind in the nightmare I imagined it to be like a set of curtains closing, fading the scene in my head to black, and I'd be gone.

I remember telling D that I loved her, and then I died. I didn't wake up after the dream. I just remember a long blank period in my mind, a period of nothingness, as if I didn't exist. And then I suppose I dreamed some more, and eventually woke up, shaken and nauseated, as I am now.


My uncle is in town. He cries out in his sleep. Not cries, really...more like screams. Deep, intense screams that make me wonder if he's being hurt. I flinch every time. It scares me.


Flashback Friday en retard

For my first birthday I recieved a little red piano, my parents being musicians and all.

What did I do with it? I sat on it.

(P.S. I believe that's my father's leg beside mine in the picture. To my knowledge, I do not and have never had a third leg.)


Battle wounds! Yeah!

Back from the softball trip! Slightly sunburnt, exhausted, and with a nice softball-sized bruise on the back of my right calf (who'd have thought that you can't turn your back while standing in the fenced-in dugout?!?). Closer to 97% positive that Dream School is a go. I have to send a check in within the next week, so it's really now or never to decide. Am babysitting right now, but both kiddos are asleep. Remember these guys? W.'s a pretty sick little guy right now, running a fever, but he's been pretty low-key in his bedroom this evening. B. was asleep when I got here, so it's smooth sailing for Nanny Dearest.

I took Natty & her friend to the barn Wednesday afternoon. They really crack me up...oh, the minds of middle schoolers (though I'm not so far removed from that...am I?). Amid other things (gratefully, they had homework to do during the car ride, so we kept the rap-blasting at a minimum, oh my god I sound like an old lady saying that, but anyway) they were conversing in broken, sketchy French, which I thoroughly enjoyed, and talked about getting braces.

(Back to the French bit--for some odd reason, their French teacher was having them memorize dialogues instead of actually learning the language...as they were trading lines back and forth, they were speaking as if they had no idea what they were saying. Turns out, they didn't know what anything meant. I translated for them and felt very proud of myself. See? I'm good for something, right?)

I honestly get a huge kick out of just listening to the two of them talk, and I rarely interject. I just listen and wait for good blog material to present itself.

Natty had braces for a few years and recently got them off. She just found out that she had to get them on again (as a fellow former-braces-sufferer, I can certainly sympathize) and couldn't for the life of her figure out WHY she had to get them AGAIN.

"Maybe," I joked, "your dentist needs to make a Lexus payment?"
"You know," I prodded, "cause braces are so expensive?"
"Yeah," Natty echoed. "It's, like, inSANE how expensive they are. Like $3,000 or something."
"I'd want to be a dentist cause they make a lot of money," Natty said. "Except, like, they have to do work."
"Oh yeah," I jumped in, "that's a real bummer."
"Yeah," they both said.


Work sucks, eh?



I ain't nothin' but a hound dog

Y'all, it is sooooo nice to have internet again. I seriously have an addiction to it...I was feeling major withdrawals not having it for so long. I've caught up on most of your blogs (but haven't commented...sorry...) and am halfway through my stacks of mail...that reminds me...I've gotta pay my credit card bill...where did it go again?!?

ANYWAY. Pupster Max was so excited to see me when I got home last night that he practically knocked me over. He weighs around 14 lbs, but that was 14 lbs of seriously happy daschund love. Lulabelle (bird) wasn't quite as excited. She mainly just looked at me as if to say, "Oh, it's you again. Open my cage door so I can fly around for a while." Henry (fish) swam right up to meet me when I walked into the bathroom. Aww. I like to think he missed me too.

So Dream School City was good. I really liked walking so much around the city, and my faboo Payless flats turned out to be a lifesaver. They were SO comfy and I wore them every day. D. came up to meet me & look at schools for herself on Saturday, but I was by myself from Thursday to then. I liked it a lot, but I felt very lonely not knowing ANYBODY up there. But I did have a great time perusing old graveyards (that creeped D. out, but I found it fascinating...pictures to come soon) and I ended up wasting $8.00 seeing a movie Saturday afternoon.

But. About Dream School. I've been back and forth on this issue several times. While I was there, I talked with a financial aid rep (they were very sympathetic about my situation but had no mercy whatsoever) and a few admissions people, just about my options. One of the things they suggested to make Dream School more financially viable was for me to do year-round classes and graduate a year early, or to do a state school/community college for 2 years and then transfer in (an option I'd already considered).

My initial thoughts after the open house on Friday were that I really liked the school & what it could offer me. It's not a perfect school by far, and I see that even more clearly now after having visited several big-name schools with D. (she's ridiculously smart). But I do like it a lot.

I hesitated about that for a while, trying to figure out if it was really worth it financially, and for another reason I won't go into since this is a public blog (but it's more important to me than anything). But as of today...I'm thinking I should go this August afterall, regardless of the financial situation. My feeling is I'm excited about the college experience, and if I don't snatch this up now, I'll always wonder "what if." I don't want to have any regrets. I don't want to do the community college/state school option, because I never wanted a school like that to begin with--which is why I liked Dream School so much.

I'm not 100% committed. I'm still waiting on a phone call from the admissions reps to talk about a few more things. But for now, that's what I'm thinking.

All right...now I do need to get to unpacking & get some laundry done. I'm taking Natty to the barn this afternoon and tomorrow I actually leave for a 2-day trip to go to several softball games with the girls. Hopefully this hotel will have internet!

P.S. If y'all have any comments or advice about the whole Dream School thing, as always, leave them in the comments section. I'm needy. I need reassurance and/or good advice about what to do. What would y'all do if you were me?


I'm baaaaaaack

I just walked in the door! I have 50,000 million blogs to read & catch up on and a stack of mail a mile high, so I'm going to keep this short and sweet. I have a lot to tell y'all regarding decisions and Dream School, so hopefully I'll be able to do that tomorrow! I haven't had internet since last Thursday which is why I haven't updated sooner.

Right now I'm going to start reading blogs. Forget unpacking--that can wait!


We're all friends here

I'm here safe, after a lo-o-o-ong day.


Everything is good, because THE OFFICE IS BACK!!!!!!

I'm 8 minutes into it...and...yeah...I'm in heaven.


New shoes make me happy

Thank you all for your sweet comments. I've just been in a weird funk lately, off and on. At some points I'm ridiculously happy and at others...not so much. For example, about 10 minutes ago I was thisclose to bawling after a particularly sad episode of Scrubs (D., don't roll your eyes at me). Before y'all get all worried about me, I think a lot of it is just anxiety about tomorrow. I hate flying. I'm terrified of it. Especially since the plane I'm scheduled to be on is an MD-80 which, if you don't know, is the one with the technical problems that A.A.'s been canceling a bajillion of. I spent over 2 hours on hold last night with A.A. trying to talk to a rep about switching planes (cause I HAVE to get to Dream School tomorrow), but she assured me that things would be fine and dandy by then. I'm flying by myself, which I've done many times before, but still don't like.

I think another big part of it is dear Aunt Flo (sorry, guys), and another big part of it is knowing that I'm going to have to make some really big decisions in the next week or two about whatever's going to be happening next year (and the year after that, and the year after that, and the year after that...you get where I'm going with this). I'm kind of counting on this weekend to help push me in some direction--whether it's persevere and spend the money and go to Dream School, or find another option. But anyway. I'm rambling and I've got several loads of laundry to do & then packing. Pupster Max is snoring beside me and is so cute I can't resist taking a picture of him. Here it is. Isn't he just ridiculously cute?

Update: Yeah, I'm thinkin' Auntie Flo has some splainin' to do. A picture frame fell on my toe this afternoon, and even though it didn't hurt all that badly, I started crying and couldn't stop. Luckily, now that the tears are out, I am feeling better :-)

Yet another update: My flight did end up being canceled. I'm on another later flight--I snagged the LAST seat possible going to Dream School city!!!



I know I keep going back to this subject. But I still have a lot of anger in me towards Mr. & Mrs. R. and it helps me to write about it. If you don't want to read about it...you might want to skip this entry.

As I've said before, I still have second thoughts about quitting. I miss the girls so much. I often wonder what would happen if I were to see them somewhere, like in a grocery store or the mall. If they didn't see me, I don't think I would approach them. I'd slip away, hopefully unnoticed. As much as I'd want to run over and sweep them in my arms and smother them in hugs and kisses, I wouldn't want to open up the situation with them again. Have them wondering why I so suddenly disappeard from their life and why I so suddenly reappeared.

But if they saw me? I'd hug them and kiss them and assure them that I love them, very much. And that I miss them every day. And that I was so, so sorry I never said goodbye to them. In hindsight, I didn't make the best decisions while quitting. I should have just told the R.'s some reason why I quit. And been able to say goodbye to the girls.

I should have said goodbye to them.

I should still be with them, actually.

But on these days when I do wish I was working for them again, I dredge up old memories of why I quit in the first place. Why I just couldn't stay in their house any longer. These aren't the only reasons, by far. But they were what I was thinking about today.

Mr. R. was at a meeting. Mrs. R. was at Starbucks reading. I was getting dinner ready for the girls and I felt awful. I felt so sick. I tried to keep going as long as I could but I felt like I was going to pass out. Finally, I called Mrs. R. and asked her to come home because I needed to leave. She said she'd leave Starbucks, which was about 2 minutes from their house, right away. But could I please start feeding the girls? Okay, okay. I fed the girls.

Then I bathed them.

Put them in their PJs.

And I was in the middle of a bedtime story, sweating with a fever and honest to god about to pass out, when she came home.

"Oh, good, the girls are almost ready for bed. Can you put them down while I go change into my jammies and shower?" she asked, the moment she saw me.

I almost said yes. I almost gave in. But I mustered whatever strength I had left in me and told her no, that I felt like I was dying, and that I needed to go. And I did.

The next day I found out that Mrs. R. had called Mr. R. home from his meeting to put the girls to bed. She stayed in her room and watched TV the whole time.

One Friday night I was having a party for a few friends at my house who I hadn't seen in a while. I had told the R.'s this early in the week and asked to get off 30 minutes early. They readily said yes, and all was good.

That Friday night, they had gone shopping for Mr. R.'s wardrobe. They promised they'd be back by 8 at the latest--they couldn't imagine being any later. I had asked that they be home by 8:15, so it was okay.

Yep, you guessed it. 8 rolled by, no sign of them. 8:15. 8:30. 8:45. People were going to be at my house at 9, and I needed to leave. The R.'s weren't answering their cell phones.

9:00. 9:15. I called the people at my house and told them to let themeselves in. Finally, at 9:30 the R.'s came home. They were fighting. Mrs. R. went straight into her bedroom and slammed the door. (Did I mention they slept in seperate bedrooms?) Mr. R. went straight into the living room and turned on the TV. I just stood there, waiting.

After five minutes, I asked Mr. R. for my check. He paid me and I left.

I never asked them for overtime money. I never asked why they were late. I never demanded to know why they couldn't have been there earlier, so I wouldn't be late for MY party. I just let it go, and I'm kicking myself for that now.

One last story that I've got to get off my chest. Then I'm signing off.

Last summer, A. got it in her head that she wanted to have a lemonade stand. I was all for it, so we went to the store and bought some lemonade mix & cookies. We didn't buy much, though, because, as I told her, it was late in the afternoon and not many people would be walking by. We got back to their house, made the lemonade together, and got ready to set things up in the front yard. Mrs. R. walked in and A. told her what we were doing. Mrs. R. was so excited. She made a huge to-do about what a great idea it was! She said she would call all of her friends and tell them to come over to our lemonade stand, and that A. would make so much money. A. was thrilled. Mrs. R. actually left and went to the store for more lemonade and cookies, telling us to set up right away cause her friends would be coming soon. A. and E. were both so excited.

We set up out front and waited. Nobody came. A half-hour passed, then an hour. Mrs. R. wasn't back and wasn't answering her cell phone. The girls and I drank all the lemonade we had cause it was so hot outside. I had a feeling of dread in me, knowing Mrs. R. probably got distracted, or something...but I let the girls wait out a little longer. Finally, after 2 hours and nobody there, all three of us sitting outside in the 105 degree heat, I told the girls to pack up and go inside. A. pitched a fit. I felt so badly for her...she so wanted to have a fun lemonade stand and it didn't happen. After a lot of screaming, I fed the girls and put them to bed.

After the girls were long asleep, Mrs. R. finally came home. She asked how the afternoon went, and I told her that A. had had a major meltdown.

"Why?" she asked me.
"Because of the lemonade stand..." I answered, slowly.
She blinked. "Oh, that," she replied. "I forgot all about that. Oh well."

Oh well? Oh well? It's not like this was a one-time thing. Mrs. R. was always making A. promises. To take her shopping in the afternoons, to pick her up from school, to have a dinner just the two of them. A. would get so excited and I'd know, I'd just know that it would never happen. And it hardly ever did. And my heart broke for sweet A. and I wondered how much longer she'd believe her mother's lies.

I so badly wanted to rescue those girls from the wrath of their parents, especially their mother. There's been no physical abuse. But there will be enough emotional problems to last a lifetime.

And I abandoned them.


Random flashback Friday

Before we get to Flashback Friday, I have something special to share with y'all.

Compliments of my Poem Generator Widget, I present to you: a poem.

the queen eats grief
the fraud apologizes the child
the champions command the sun.

Wow. So very profound. Thank you, PGW.


Now, onto Flashback Friday.

This is a Christmas ornament but I've had it sitting on my desk for years. It's a merry little house that used to sing "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" if you pressed a button, and it has a space for a little picture of yourself. I'm approximately one.

(P.S. The little red dot by my eye is the flash on my cell phone camera. No, I don't have a red blotch on my face.)


T-minus 6 days until I fly up north to visit Dream School! I'm so excited. I've had my flight booked for months but am still struggling to find a decently-priced hotel. Holy crap, the hotels up there are expensive! We're not in Potluck, Texas anymore, Toto! (Just kidding. I don't live in Potluck, TX. I don't even know if there is a Potluck, TX.)


A post of answers?

UPDATE below

My sister has been bugging me about why my posts are, as she says, one or two sentences only. Honestly? Cause I don't have anything all that interesting to blog about! And I don't want to bore y'all with meaningless posts.

Oh, hell. Who am I kidding? I do that all the time.

But tonight I'm coming here to actually write something nanny-related! Woohoooooo! But, in advance, it's not a pretty or happy-go-lucky story.

Monday I was with the S's (my regular Monday/Friday family). I had picked up both Boy and Girl from school and they were sitting doing their homework (yeah, yeah. I'm a mean nanny. I make my kids do their homework). The weather was really scary outside, though. The sky was dark and threatening, the weathermen had that slightly panicked tone in their voices that they try (unsuccessfully) to mask...it wasn't looking good. And if y'all know me, the one thing I am most terrified of are tornadoes. I. am. scared. to. death. of. them. All afternoon, the national weather service had been issuing tornado watches, and though those raise my heartrate, I'm not curled up on the floor in the fetal position in fright. But all of a sudden, they issued a tornado warning.

For my city.

Where I was with the kids.

To be fair, the city where I live is big and the warning was issued for South City, and I was in North City. But still. I saw the words "Tornado Warning" and "My City" in big bold red letters, and I was completely terrified.

Now, I've dealt with bad weather while babysitting before. I can distinctly remember a time when I was with A. and E. and the wind was blowing so hard I thought the windows would break, so I had them cuddled against me in the hall closet. But it's been never this bad.

The next part of this story I'm not proud of. In fact, it's still haunting me and it's Wednesday. But anyway. Boy had an activity at school that afternoon, and even though I didn't want to leave their house, I still drove him the 2 minutes back up to school. Earlier in the day, Mrs. S. had told me I could leave after I dropped Boy off--Girl could watch herself. And in the middle of that storm, there was nothing more I wanted than to be at MY house, not 30 minutes away from my house.

Girl was freaked out because of the storm, too. And while there were no tornadoes headed directly for us at that time, they could have been at any moment. So I lied to her, doling out reassuring platitudes and convincing her that she was in NO danger, that all the storms were going to miss their house completely. So she hesitated, but told me I could go back to my house.

And I fled.

I've been plagued with guilt ever since. Nothing ended up happening, either at her house or mine, but what if it had? What if I had just left her, terrified 14 year old girl, alone at her house with a tornado? What if something had happened to her?

I'm not quite sure why I acted the way I did on Monday. Anytime I was with A. and E. and it was a scary situation, I instantly turned into 'Uber Protective' mama. No matter what, those girls were my top priority. When the weather was really scary, I was never as scared, because I was so concentrated on them and making sure they were okay.

The whole situation unsettles me. But please know, I'm not posting this to get sympathy comments. This is something that's been weighing heavily on me since Monday and I just needed to get it out.

(On a positive ending note, I'm babysitting K. & J. tomorrow night! I absolutely ADORE them and am so excited. Hopefully they'll provide me with some good blogging material!)

Edited to add: Now y'all, I didn't mean leave me NO comments. So how about some comment love? Also, my babysitting job with J&K tonight got canceled :-( but at least I get to watch The Office marathon! WOOHOO!


A confession of my own (no, this isn't an April Fool's joke)

I love going into random chatrooms and creating a whole new, completely different, personality. Then I return to that chatroom carrying on that personality until I get bored. Sometimes I go for a day. Sometimes it lasts for a few days. Regardless, I always try to come up with something new and different.