Before I get started, let me apologize for missing my post last night. I went to bed around 8:00 because I wasn’t feeling well. I woke up at 11:00 and thought about coming downstairs to write but just didn’t have the energy. I’ll try to do better in the future!

Currently, I am sitting on my couch waiting for a hurricane. I know, I know. I don’t live on the beach, and I won’t really get to see a hurricane. But I am pretty pumped for a huge storm. Lots of wind. Pouring rain. Is there thunder and lightning with a hurricane? That would just make it better. I might enjoy it a little more, though, if our roof was fixed. It was scheduled to be re-shingled tomorrow, but I had to reschedule. The materials were set to be delivered today, and I was (apparently unnecessarily) concerned about them blowing away in the hurricane. Plus, the roofer’s wife was still in labor last night. If it was me, I wouldn’t want Justin heading off to re-shingle someone’s house while I was in the hospital. But, I’m pretty irrational about those things.

I took Justin up to Lawrence today to see the high school. For some reason, it’s important that he knows where I am and can picture it during the day. I like knowing where Justin works. Actually, I like knowing where anyone works. I got to see my friend Rebecca’s office and feel like I’m really talking to her when we email during the day. Not that either of us abandons our professional duties for long…

After leaving Lawrence, Justin and I made our way to Water Country and spend the day on water slides while Robbie enjoyed a day with Zhining. It’s nice taking time just the two of us every now and then. We don’t get a lot of time together when we aren’t busy being a parent, and I like getting to remember what it was like just the two of us. And, shockingly, we really like spending time together. I think we’re both as tired as Robbie is right now… We climbed a lot of stairs to get to the tops of the slides. We felt slightly irresponsible, knowing we spent the day before the “hurricane” was supposed to hit playing at a water park. We certainly didn’t spend it putting up lawn furniture or shutting windows.

Robbie did get to spend some time talking to Nona on video chat while he took a bath tonight. It’s funny that he recognizes her as soon as she comes on the screen. He blew her a kiss when he first saw her (could he melt my heart any more?) and played peek-a-boo. There’s nothing like virtual peek-a-boo. Nona and Pops had their eyes covered in Kentucky, and Robbie had his eyes covered in the bathroom… A new spin on an old classic! Robbie also showed off his standing skills, pounding on his chest while talking to Nona and standing in the tub. I have no idea what he was saying, but it was apparently very funny. And then he decided it was time to end the conversation because he was climbing out of the tub. When did he get big enough for this? He knows to climb out of the tub? Oy!

I had my first of several dental appointments to fill cavities today. And it was not successful. I am so disappointed and embarrassed. When I was little, I prided myself on not having any cavities. I got a smug satisfaction out of it, especially if my brother or sister happened to get one. And now it’s all coming back to bite me.

I really enjoy my new dentist, Dr. Bliss. I’m sure her name has something to do with it. And the fact that we’re the same age and she talks too much. She practically stole Robbie from me the first time I met her, and she had a balloon waiting for me to take home to him tonight. So, what I am going to say is no reflection on her. She’s great.

My teeth are not. I was supposed to have four cavities filled tonight. I left with two-and-a-half finished. Two of them were easy. Then we got to the doozy. I could feel the drill, so Dr. Bliss gave me two more shots of Novocain. Which didn’t work. She pulled out the mirror to show me the status of my poor molar. I looked in the mirror to see that she had drilled away a quarter of my tooth, and there was still plenty of gray tooth left to be drilled out. It’s a really humbling moment to realize that you haven’t taken care of your teeth the way you should.

Then came the moment of truth. Dr. Bliss told me she wasn’t comfortable drilling any further with the nerve that bad. She put in a medicated filling (I’d never heard of such a thing!). This is supposed to stop the cavity from progressing further and allow the nerve to heal. Then, ideally, when she goes back in a few months to put in the real filling, the nerve will be healed enough to allow this to happen.

What happened to that fourth cavity? It was right next to the tooth that was mostly drilled out, and she was concerned that the area wouldn’t be fully numbed. So now that waits a few more months, too.

And now I wait another four weeks to have the three cavities on the other side of my mouth taken care of, one of which is just as bad as the one she couldn’t finish today. I am so not looking forward to any of this. At all. But, she seems confident that I’ll be able to avoid crowns and root canals for now. And to think, a little flossing probably would have prevented most of this drama. Guess I’ll go do that now…

Of all the things to be concerned about with my new job, my biggest concern right now is the toilets. Yes, that’s right. Toilets. I can’t figure them out. There is a sensor at the back of the stalls, and the light flashes when I stand up. But the toilet never flushes. I have no idea if they are automatic or not, and I don’t want to be that person who leaves an unflushed toilet. Today I did the “ultimate” toilet test. I was in a single restroom and washed my hands while waiting to see if it would flush. You know how sometimes there’s a time delay? That’s what I was waiting to have kick in.

Except it didn’t. So, I pushed the button next to the sensor, like I’ve been doing for the past week. I’m still confused, though. Why bother to put the sensors in if the toilets require me to push a button? This is the trouble with these automatic things; you never know quite how they work. I’m thirty years old and still can’t figure out the automatic faucet. Forget about the soap. I have the towel dispenser pretty well figured out, but those aren’t consistent across the board either. How in the world am I supposed to make sure Robbie knows how to use a variety of toilets? God help me if he starts thinking everything should be automatic and stops flushing at home… Oh, the perils of an automated society.

On a lighter, and more fragrant, note… Robbie and I walked to the florist around the corner today. That’s right! We both walked! Robbie held my finger, but he walked the whole way, and he walked all the way back! He’s so ready to let go, but I’m enjoying that he still needs me for walking (err… running) right now. He saw Justin crossing the street on our way home and a huge smile spread across his face. He leaned his head back to look at me, so excited to see Justin. And then he broke into a Frankenstein-esque run to get to his daddy.

I apologize for what I feel like is a pretty lame blog entry… My students always complain that it’s hard to write in their journals every day, and I told them they just weren’t being creative enough. Of course, I hadn’t tried to write every day for an audience. So please bear with me on the less-than-exciting days. After all, I can’t run a crazy obstacle course or find out I have seven cavities every day!

Today was my last “real” day of summer home with Robbie. I have Friday off, but Justin and I are going to send the bambino to daycare and enjoy a day together. So, this was it. The day kind of snuck up on me. I guess I knew it was coming, but I didn’t want to think about it. And now that it’s over, I wish I had.

The first half of the day was actually a lot of fun. Robbie and I went for a walk with my friend Jane and her daughter Lily. We hadn’t gotten to see each other for the past month, so it was nice to catch up. I’d forgotten how nice it was to have girlfriends. Don’t get me wrong, I have some fantastic friends. But there’s something about having mom girlfriends. They just get you. They’ve been exactly where you are and find their husbands infuriating for the same reasons. And we all need time to gripe about men and children.

It was the afternoon of my last day of summer that really disappointed me. Robbie and I took Barkley to the vet, where we found out that all the things I thought were problems really were problems. I hate that. I went three for three this time… Barkley’s ear was cut when he got groomed a week ago, and it got infected. Then when Barkley was trying to scratch it, he cut the inside of his ear, which also got infected… Second problem? Brace yourself. Full anal glands. Lovely. But definitely worth $15 to have someone else fix them. Third problem? This is actually what’s been irritating me for months. Barkley chews on his paws. All. The. Time. The other night I noticed that the fur around his paws had changed color. Today I found out why: Barkley has chewed them raw. There are scabs everywhere. The poor puppy has a bacterial infection. So, $95,26 later, we have oral antibiotics for the ear, wipes for the paws, and clean glands. And a very relieved Barkley.

Then came the bad appointment. That’s right, it got worse than the vet. Keep in mind that poor Robbie has been toted along to all of this fun. And he’s really been good. The dentist nearly yanked him out of my arms, explaining that she has baby fever and it just wouldn’t be safe for Robbie to be in the same room while I had x-rays taken. Did I mention I had never met this dentist before? I do have to admit, though, that I think she’s fantastic. When the dentist looked at my teeth, her only concern was that I’ve been grinding them. She didn’t see any areas of concern (I was worried a filling had fallen out but didn’t know if it was real or a dream). And then she saw the x-rays.

There was decay everywhere. Under fillings. Between teeth. Near the nerve. SEVEN cavities. Five of them under current fillings. I was devastated. I didn’t have a cavity until I was twenty-six. Are you kidding me? In the past four years, I’ve had SEVENTEEN cavities. I brush religiously. I don’t floss like I should. But, I take better care of my teeth than a lot of people. And this is the thanks I get? On the last day of summer, no less?

So, my punishment for missing my dental appointment last October and failing to reschedule is two more appointments where they have to drill my teeth. Two of them almost to the nerve and then try to patch and rebuild. And this is where I urge you to do several things. First, floss. I know, it’s a pain. Second, rebook that dental appointment you canceled and never got around to. Trust me. You’d rather take care of this now. Third, get your dental insurance! This will still be a staggering $700. WIthout insurance? We’d be looking at over $1500. What are you waiting for? Go!

Today was the first weekend day Justin, Robbie, and I have had at home without any plans (or obstacle courses) in almost a month. We didn’t do anything too terribly exciting… I walked to Bagels By Us to get breakfast, only to find out when I took the first bite of my bacon, egg, and cheese croissant that it lacked bacon (the key ingredient in my opinion). While we were eating, Justin and I made a list of everything we had to do.

Laundry took up most of the day, since we hadn’t really done it in three weeks. Not that we’ve been wearing dirty clothes for three weeks; I did laundry while I was in Kentucky, and Justin did enough to get by. But sheets and towels and the laundry we didn’t take with us and the laundry that we accumulated over the past week… Well, it’s twelve hours later, and we’re still doing laundry. I think there’s one load left. Surprisingly, it’s also all put away.

It’s nice to have someone to clean the house with, even though it’s the most ordinary thing to do. It’s a chance for us to turn up the music, get organized, and then enjoy the clean later. I’m currently sitting on a de-fuzzed couch with a twice Swiffered floor. I know the calm in the living room won’t last longer than five minutes once Robbie is up in the morning, but it’s nice to enjoy it while I can.

In the middle of our cleaning spree, we took a family trip to the mall. Poor Robbie. He looked at pots and pans (we finally settled on low-end Calphalon; much nicer than our Ikea pots and pans…). He toured the linens and pulled a bunch of napkins of the shelf while I looked at placemats. He got his animal cracker fingers on new clothes in the men’s department. He patiently went into and out of waiting rooms. He picked out Halloween pajamas. And he (not-so-patiently) browsed through purses.

And then we came home. And the dog pulled the chicken off the counter and to the floor. Twice. And Robbie screamed his head off, hitting several new octaves. And I got frustrated. And Justin came to the rescue. And our family fun day became not so fun. But, eventually, I got the chicken cleaned up (and spitefully decided to throw it away instead of give it to the dog), Robbie stopped crying, and the laundry dwindled. Order has temporarily been restored. It’s amazing how quickly that happens after Robbie falls asleep.

And so tomorrow I begin my last day of summer… Here’s hoping there are no tantrums or ruined chickens to taint it.

Yes, I am! That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. Today I “ran” the Spartan Race (www.spartanrace.com in case you’re interested). I hadn’t planned on participating, but a friend of a friend got injured, and I would have hated to see a registration go to waste. Plus, I didn’t want to sit and watch everyone else finish and then listen to how the whole race was. I wanted to be a part of the conversation! After all, that’s why I started running in the first place.

My good friend Tara roped me into this. She told me that I made it through a marathon labor, so I could do this. When I figured that the race would take me an hour, or 1/47 of the time I was in labor, I figured I could do it. How hard could a 5K with twelve obstacles be? I could run a quarter of a mile between obstacles and take the time at the obstacles to catch my breath. Right? Wrong. So very, very wrong.

We got to the race for our 11:00 heat at 10:49 and still had to sign waivers (I may owe the Spartans my first born; I have no idea what I signed), get our registration packets, pin bib numbers, attach ankle timing chips, and go to the bathroom. We entered the race area as our heat was taking off and didn’t even have time to think about what we were doing. Thank God. If we had, I don’t know that I would have gone through with it.

Let me walk you through this “race”. It started with running up a ski slope. Since it was summer, the snow makers were blowing ice cold water. I haven’t run up a ski slope ever. Winter. Summer. Dry weather. Muddy hills. Not in any condition. But, somehow, I made it up that damn hill. With Justin. Let me just say right here that my husband didn’t leave my side for the entire event. And he never once told me that I shouldn’t have signed up (which is what I was thinking the entire time). He just pushed me on, telling me that I could do it. Amazing man, that Justin Manna.

OK. Enough mushy stuff; I’m a Spartan. Back to the race. At the top of the hill was a fire pit for us to jump over. And I was ready to give up 100 yards in. I’m sure part of my soles are melted because I was so slow going over. After that was a lovely run through the brush. We went down a hill. And up a hill. And up another hill. And down a little. And up a hill. To the cargo net. Which I had to flip myself over to get to the other side. I am not very flipable. But I did it!

After the cargo net was the path of mud. We faced about thirty yards of straight mud. I made my way past abandoned shoes (my friend Craig, whose wife talked us into this adventure, lost both shoes here and ran the last 2.5 miles barefoot). People in front of us ran into a bee hive and got stung dozens of time. Fortunately, I was so slow that the bees were all gone by the time we got there. And then we were on a run through the woods. Over fallen trees and exposed roots. Through more mud.

And then we go to another mountain. Seriously. I’m sure it wasn’t straight up, but it sure felt like it. I’ve never climbe up such a steep hill in my life. Ever. It was horrible. Painful. Humiliating. But I made it to the top. Only to face two four foot walls that had to be climbed. I made it over the first one. Justin helped me with the second one, and I fell on top of him. And then we ran (I did actually run this part because they were yelling at us to run) to a tall cargo net with a wall for us to climb down on the other side.

Disaster struck at the cargo net. I tried to get my leg over the top of the obstacle and fell backwards. Luckily, I caught myself on the rope, with a leg on either side. Horribly uncomfortable but better than hitting the ground. The lovely man working the obstacle got underneath and told me to stand on him to get my footing. Then he had me stand on his shoulder to get myself over the top. He had footprints all over his shirt from me. We hit one more wall to climb: an eight-footer. I have never been so happy to be a girl, as we got the “easy” wall with a few boards to help us out. One lady stayed to help me pull myself over, so we didn’t have a repeat of the cargo net disaster.

We ran downhill through the woods and through a field that seemed to stretch on forever to another two back-to-back obstacles. I crawled under a tent through a mud pit for ten yards and attempted to get myself across a wall stepping on and grabbing small blocks. I was not successful. I did a few push-ups and moved on. At this point, people from the 11:30 heat were passing us. (Remember my amazing husband? Still with me!). They encouraged me to keep going, which I really appreciated.

Finally, after another jaunt through the woods, I could hear the music and announcers indicating that we were finally getting close. And then I saw it. The mud pit. The barbed wired. The men in uniform barking at us to run. Justin dove in. I took a slower approach. “Why are you taking so long getting through my obstacle? Get down! Get your face in the mud!” There was gravel at the bottom of the mud pit, and I couldn’t seem to get myself through it fast enough.

From there it was down the ski hill for the last three obstacles. Yes, three. The spear throw, which I failed and had to jump on a huge tire fifteen times (don’t tell, but I only did seven). The wall climb with a rope, which I tried and opted for twenty pushups. While I was on the ground, I noticed at least ten empty dish soap bottles. No wonder I couldn’t make it up the wall! It was covered in soap!

Finally, I was within twenty yards of the finish line. There were just four problems: the six-foot ledge I had to drop off and the three Spartan warriors with padded sticks (what’s the official name?). I scooted my way off the ledge the same time as one of those fast 11:30 racers. He paused to size up the warriors, and I decided I wasn’t waiting. I hoped they’d just go for him. And they did. The one warrior who “got me” told me to finish strong and lightly jabbed me.

I crossed the finish line with a time of an hour and ten minutes. And I got my medal – I’ve never earned one more! I’m still not sure how (or why) I did it, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with a husband urging me to keep going when I just wanted to sit down.

As I sit here typing, I am covered in scrapes and bruises. My entire body aches. But I’ve never felt better.

Every afternoon, I pick Robbie up from daycare, and he is always thrilled to see me. Until today. Usually, Robbie is in the front room with Zhining and very excited to see me. Maybe it’s my imagination, but it seems like he tries to jump out of Zhining’s arms and into mine.

I walked in, and Zhining told me she was taking pictures of the boys playing. Robbie’s good friend Pete was at daycare with him for the past two days, and they were playing with KanKan, a nine-month-old. My dear, sweet little boy didn’t even look up. It took a full minute for him to realize I was even there, and even then he just held up a toy, imparted a few words of wisdom about what he had been doing, and went right back to play.

My friend Rebecca came in about three minutes after I did, and her son dutifully squealed with delight and ran (yes, he’s polite to his mother and a walker!) over to give her legs a full body hug. And Robbie continued to dig in the toy box looking for more Happy Meal treasures. It was only when I picked him up to go that he realized I was there. And he started to scream.

I was conflicted about how to feel. Should I be happy that he is so independent or mildly heart broken that he isn’t thrilled to see me the minute I walk in the door? In a rational mom mindset, I know that he’ll probably be thrilled at the sight of me the next time I come to pick him up. And I know there are going to be far more offensive things that Robbie will say or do to me as he grows up. But boy to those first steps of independence sting a little.

So… Remember how I was complaining about Robbie puking up pretzels and apple juice all over me on the plane? I didn’t know how good I had it! Last night, as I was coming in from letting Barkley out, I heard Robbie crying upstairs. Justin, who was already upstairs, got to Robbie before I did.

I could smell them before I got there. I walked through the door and saw Robbie in Justin’s arms, both covered in bright red vomit. Robbie was crying, and Justin, perhaps more covered than Robbie, was comforting him, totally at ease covered in vomit.

It’s times like these that I fall even more in love with Justin than I already was. It sounds silly, and perhaps a little disturbing. But until we had a baby, I never had an opportunity to see Justin in this light, so devoted to someone that he isn’t concerned about anything happening to him. He and I talked a few months after Robbie was born, and we had a surprising revelation: we loved each other more than we ever had before. It occurred to us that we had never seen each other as parents, and it opened up a whole new side of our relationship.

Eventually, Robbie went back to bed. We gave him some water, a few animal crackers, and a book. I left the light on, since this tends to work better than trying to make Robbie think he is going back to bed. We thought he had gone to sleep an hour later and were ready to go to bed when we heard a laugh from Robbie’s room. Justin went in to peek at him through the door and found Robbie flipping through a book and talking to Buzz Lightyear. I couldn’t have told you who I loved more at that point: Robbie for entertaining himself with a book or Justin for peeking in at him like a kid trying spy Santa by the tree on Christmas.

I know I’ve probably said this before, but where did my baby go? He doesn’t seem to be anywhere in my house! Much to Robbie’s delight, I keep looking for him. Usually with Robbie thrown over my shoulder. He squeals with delight when I turn around looking for him, tickled that he really is hiding from me. But, when Robbie decides it’s time for me to “find” him, he taps me. It’s like he’s saying, “Mom! I’m right here! See?”

Tonight I had Robbie playing in his room while I put away his laundry. I thought everything was going well. Until I heard the gate click. I turned around to see Robbie standing on the other side of the gate in his bedroom door, laughing. He had locked me in his room! And thought it was hysterical. As soon as he saw me turn around, Robbie dropped to the ground and started to crawl away frantically. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry myself. It was, quite possibly, the funniest thing I have ever seen him do, but I don’t feel like he should be big enough to be playing jokes like that on me.

Robbie crawls around the floor with a phone held to his ear. He stands by himself, eating animal crackers and watching TV. He knows what he wants and how to get it. Robbie has conversations with us and laughs at the right time when someone tells a joke. We don’t know what he’s saying, and he doesn’t have any idea what he’s laughing about. But, I guess that’s how most of us get through life at one point or another. We just laugh at the right time.

A funny thing happened between my first new teacher orientation in Fayette County in 2002 and the new teacher orientation I attended today. I got old. My first year teaching, I was the youngest teacher in the school. When I taught in Georgia, I was the second youngest teacher in the school. At Willow Hill, I was the youngest teacher for the first six months and the second youngest for the past two-and-a-half years. In Lawrence? I was one of the three or four OLDEST new teachers. How in the world did that happen?

But, despite being one of the oldest new hires (how did I wind up in my thirties?), I know I made the right decision to make the move to Lawrence. I got the statistics about the town during a presentation today (90.4% of the students are on free and reduced lunch, over 30% of them live below the poverty line, and 62.3% of them are from single-family homes). I know this is exactly where I am meant to be. I think there is an amazing opportunity to make a difference in so many lives, and I can’t wait to be a part of that.

My classroom is amazing. I think I’m still in awe at the size of it. For the past three years, I’ve had a room big enough for eight students. This one is big enough for a gazillion! Or thirty… I have a flat screen TV, with a DVD/VCR player and a computer hook-up. I also met up with a returning teacher who helped me claim an LCD projector and document projector (I’m sure there’s an official name for it). I have four student computers in my classroom, ample storage, two teacher desks. It seems silly to be so excited about a classroom, but it’s been five years since I’ve had my own public high school classroom. Those blank walls are ripe with possibility!

My first day of work meant Robbie’s first day back at daycare. He and Zhining were so happy to see each other, and, at the end of the day, Robbie and I were so happy to see each other. I feel like we had some really good play time when we got home, and it was so nice to enjoy all the time I had with him. I’m definitely not meant to be a stay-at-home mom. At first I felt bad about that, like there was something wrong with me as a mother for not being able to enjoy day after day after day home with Robbie. Don’t get me wrong; I loved having my summer with Robbie. We went swimming and on long walks and on road trips. And it was amazing. For three months. But now? I’m excited to have the time to be me again.