Army of TWO!

I just keep thinking back to our days in college 23 years ago....sitting on the couch in the Student Union, watching tv, Patrick so handsome in his military school uniform. Talking, joking, not really thinking about what the future held. I was there to pin the bars on him when he got his commission, and by that time there was talk of a possible future between us. Still, I never would've guessed then that 23 years later, I'd be watching him swear our 17 year old son into the Army. Wow.

Parenting is so tough!

This isn't gonna be a funny post. I swear sometimes I think parenting is the hardest thing in the world! Well, parenting itself may not be hard...parenting WITH PURPOSE is! My purpose as a parent is to put myself out of a job. It's to make sure my kids can take care of themselves so they don't have to come back home to live (not that they'd be allowed to come back home to live!). This is so hard! They can wash clothes, fix themselves something to eat, even clean if they're really pressured. They can wake themselves up for work/school, dress themselves, and get where they need to be on time. In all those respects I won't worry about them being out on their own.
What worries the crap out of me is the money. It's so hard to sit back and watch them fail with something so crucial! I remember when we were in high school and college; there were no money worries. Mom and Dad took care of everything. Need clothes? Here's some money. Gas? Here's the Gulf card. There was never anything to worry about because we knew all we had to do was run to our parents. Though I took it for granted at the time, it sure was WONDERFUL to be able to do that!
We're not giving our kids that luxury, and that makes me feel guilty sometimes. The kids have to buy their own clothes, shoes, haircuts, school supplies, etc. We give them $125/month to do it all. I know that's not much, but the thought is that if they learn how to handle little, they'll know how to handle much. So it's hard to watch one kid spend $100 on fast food in ONE WEEK, and only have $25 for the rest of the month. A month in which he still has to drive to/from school! It's hard to sit back and watch a kid put $200 in her bank account and see it get eaten up in fees because she started spending her money before it was credited to her account. When you see your kids working so hard between work and school, then just blow the money on NOTHING.....it physically hurts to watch your kids do stupid!
I feel guilty because I didn't have to stress over all that when I was in school. Other kids have their parents doing like ours did, providing everything for them. Yet we don't do that for our kids. We have friends who spoil their kids rotten, and they swear WE are doing the right thing. So if it's right, why is it SO HARD!?

Wow! All this.....?

Just for signing Pete up in the Army, they gave Patrick and I each 2 pens, a lanyard, and a lapel pin! Holy cow, if I'd known we could get all that, we'd have signed him up months ago! :)*
Actually, I kinda wanted to cry as I signed my name on the dotted line. I know in my heart it's what Pete wants. He wanted to sign on his 17th birthday, then postponed it to think it over. He needed to know it's what HE wanted, not what he thought his dad or I wanted. He's comfortable with his decision, and even seems excited about it. He'll get picked up after school on Monday and driven to somewhere in Millington, TN, where he'll spend the night and undergo a physical (lol...wonder if Patrick's talked to him about turning his head and coughing!), do more testing and paperwork, then get sworn in on Tuesday afternoon. We'll be there, and will post more afterwards. I'm getting teary-eyed just thinking about it! (sigh) I suppose if I start to get really sad I can just read the post below this one! :)

Sorta (sort of--in informal pronunciation)

I've come to hate that word. It means...what exactly? I find it's terribly overused in my house, and especially over this past weekend. Patrick and I left the kids home while we spent one night at the beach, then headed to Biloxi for a conference for 3 more nights. We left Saturday. By Sunday, we'd heard "sorta" in 2 conversations I hope never to have again.
"I sorta wrecked your Miata." Ok, you're obviously fine because you're calling me and you're calm. What happened, and how bad is it? Then come those 5 other words that are too frequently used in my house, "See, what had happened was...." Those words are NEVER followed by anything good! Pete was on his way to Wendy's in the hopes of talking the manager into hiring him back (he quit several months ago but has since realized his fast-food addiction is one that he must fund on his own). When he came to one of the 5 traffic lights in town, he thought at first to run it as it was yellow. Then he changed his mind and decided to stop. The car behind him, though, wasn't able to stop so suddenly. "Did you call the cops, son?" "Uh..." (and there's yet another word I've come to hate!) Once he stopped stuttering and stammering, his answer was 2-fold. No, because a) there really wasn't much damage that you could see and b) he didn't have his license! ARGH! (sigh) But technology is wonderful; we were able to see pics almost immediately and it really wasn't anything you could tell (thank God!). OK, crisis averted. Do NOT drive anywhere 'til you find your license!
"I sorta broke the computer monitor." I just can't help it; I find myself automatically bracing myself for the worst, usually saying a little prayer before I answer Pete's calls. (sigh) "See what had happened was....Ryan and I were playing around and I threw a coke bottle at him and it sorta hit the monitor and now the monitor's sorta broke." Now in this case, sorta can mean numerous things. It's sorta broke as in glass is scattered everywhere, or it's sorta broke in that it won't turn on, or sorta broke because it still turns on and you can sorta see stuff on the screen. It was the latter, which doesn't make it any better but it made ME feel better knowing there weren't 10 million tiny glass shards scattered around the media room! At least now I know that's a phone call I won't have to worry about: "I had to drive Ryan to the hospital in the Miata without my license because he stepped on glass from the computer monitor and sorta cut his foot open." Oh boy....Luckily for the boys the rest of our time away was uneventful. I'm not sure we'll be leaving them again any time soon, though!

Forklifts and Phosphorescent Waves

Those were the 2 most unusual sights on the beach this past weekend, and both on Saturday night.
Have you ever seen phosphorescent waves? I've been going to the beach all my life, and I'd never seen them before Saturday night. As the waves gently broke on the shore, they glowed in the dark with an electric-like green glow. When we walked through the surf, we left short-lived, bright green trails like the tails of shooting stars. With each step on the wet sand, the ground lit up underneath our feet, reminiscent of the light-up shoes our kids used to wear. It was absolutely awe-inspiring!
The forklifts were there, along with trucks and trailers, removing all the beach chairs, umbrellas, and even the little white storage units that hold the cushions. They were working at break-neck speed to try to get them off the beach before Gustav hit. They worked through the night, and were still at it at 1am. Sunday morning the beach looked....empty. But in a beautiful,expectant way. All the people on the beach kept looking out towards the gulf, as if expecting to see Gustav pulling up any minute! Yet the sun was shining, the breeze felt normal, the only sign that something was amiss was what was NOT on the beach (those chairs).
The change in the water from Friday to Sunday was impressive. Friday evening the water was smooth as glass. Like a solid sheet of glass placed over the entire gulf. It was so quiet, that if you closed your eyes and listened, you wouldn't know you were at the beach. Saturday morning was similar, but you could at least hear the waves some. In fact, Patrick was expecting to take Bob's boat out but the marina wouldn't allow any boats out of the dock as they were in "Hurrican Mode". Saturday night, the "electric" night, the waves picked up some, but they still broke gently along the shore.
Sunday was a bit different. It wasn't that the waves were huge. They weren't. but they were fast and furious, almost mean! There weren't many people in the water, because as soon as they stepped one foot in, they would be knocked down on their butts! It was as if to say, "Hey, leave me alone. Can't you see I've gotta storm brewing?!" Thinking about it, it was like it went through the stages of labor....calm, cool, collected, it gradually built in intensity, then in transition it turned into a royal bitch! (Not that I know what being a royal bitch is like!)
We had a terrific weekend, though it was cut short by the mandatory evacuation at noon on Sunday. So off we went, choosing to go through Birmingham since we'd been told I-55 was crammed with traffic. We think we made the right decision, even though it took us 7 hours to get to B'ham! I would've LOVED to have stayed and watch the storm, and if we didn't have a family to consider, I probably would have tried. I just love the beach, and the power of the waves when they're all stirred up!