This tale begins on Saturday morning at approximately 9:30 a.m. Middle G and Little G. are off with me to Little G.'s swim lessons.

Regular readers will remember just how much I loathe swim lessons.

Little G. is still swimming level three with Crazy Eye. I should note that I'm most likely going to hell for calling his teacher Crazy Eye. But alas, that is another tale.

As indicated in previous posts, while my son loves to swim, he doesn't necessary like to do the elementary backstroke. There is no chance that he will make the Olympic swim team and I'm okay with that.

Crazy Eye hates me.

I'm not exactly sure when I realized that she hated me, but it is quite obvious. Even my 8 1/2 year says things like "Did you make the swim teacher mad?"

After three straight weeks of Little G doing nothing but crying at swim lesson (Did I mention that I pay for these) I decided to bribe him with a trip to the dollar store. A trip he has been dreaming of taking since my dad sent him $5.00 for Easter.

"Don't cry, do you best and we will go to the dollar store."

He hugged me. He did his best. He didn't cry. He kept up with all those big kids who need only to kick one time and they've crossed the entire pool.

Crazy Eye noticed the improvement.

At the end of the class she said "Wow, Little G. did so much better today. He seems to have gotten over his hump."

Since I'm a firm believer in Say what you mean and mean what you say I said, "It's probably because I bribed him."

Expecting a chuckle or a possible bonding moment, instead Crazy Eye responded with "That's a shame" and walked away.

Just when I thought I couldn't dislike her more.

But alas our adventure was just beginning. I'm wearing this awesome pedometer and lately my dog has been getting more steps than me so I came up with the brilliant idea of taking the stairs.

In the stairwell was a new exit. Clearly marked EXIT. The door lead to the alleyway between the YWCA and the church parking lot that held our van.

It seemed like a no brainer to go out this door and head straight to the van.

Now I must admit to you that I was slightly taken back when the door shut behind us and it had no outside door handle, but still there was no alarm and what was the worse that could happen.

I'll tell you what can happen. You can get trapped by barbed wire fences in all directions. You can find nothing but padlocked exits. You can realize about four seconds too late that you may get trapped in the alley with your 8 and 6 year old in 80 plus degree weather without nary a drink.

Now Little G. could fit between the wall and the fence and desperately wanted to be Lassie and go for help but I wasn't that desperate. I mean he would have needed to punch in a five digit code to get back into the YWCA and then he would have had to find the stairwell we were trapped in all without being kidnapped which seemed as likely as a LOST plot.

So we waited.

We knocked on the door for awhile to no avail.

Soon our hero arrived.

No he wasn't some sexy guy fresh from the pool. He was the gay next door neighbor who decided to take a break from painting and come out on his deck.

He put a ladder over the fence and helped us all climb into his yard.

I'm very thankful he wasn't a serial killer.

This  weekend we spent part of it recooperating and the rest of it relaxing. 

I wish I could tell you that the recouperating was from a wild party where we spent too much time dancing and drinking but alas middle G got the dreaded stomach flu.  Ugh.   She spent the entire day on Friday upchucking and crying, "Why is this happening to me."

It was simply pathetic.

Saturday she was good as new.  Kids are so resilient.

I did a little crafting.  Here are some cards I made.  After organizing my oodles of paper I also did a little bit of scrapbooking.


My friend Becky bought me this stamp so I used it to make a Thank you card for her.  I was happy with the way it turned out though the stitching was a little whacked.  My sewing machine wasn't cooperating.

On a side note, my son has yet another new swim teacher and this one decide after having him in class for 1/2 hour that he was in the wrong level.  This was shortly after the holiday break.  But after the second class, she was adamant that he be moved to a lower level and said she can't believe any of their instructors moved him up. 

"He doesn't even know how to do the elementary backstroke."

**Gasp**  Stop the presses!  Front page news....my six year old son can't do the elementary backstroke!  I should be ashamed.

Do you think I should tell his new teacher that he can't tie his shoes either?  I'm afraid if I do that she'll move him back even further.

It's Tuesday. Time once again for Post It Note Tuesday. Are you playing along? You should be.



Seriously. Does anyone else have a Postal carrier that doesn't deliver the mail if 1) there is a car she deems too close to the mailbox 2) has a garbage can fall near the mail box 3) has flowers she deems too long near the mailbox.

Then she has the audacity to ask for a tip at Christmas. I have a few tips I can give her....





This book "19 minutes" is my October book of the month. It is about a school shooting and it is an emotional train wreck. As a mother of pre-teen kids, this book is scarier than any fiction you can read.

If your son was accused and on trial for what can only be described as Columbine how would you feel? Would you still see the little boy who loved the crust cut off his bread and couldn't decide if he wanted his hair to grow or for you to buzz it off again or would you see a monster capable of shooting 29 kids and killing 10 of them?

This book makes you mourn for the kids lost but at the same time hate them for what some of them did to the accused. This book makes you side with both the prosecution and the defense and makes you so happy that you are not seated on the jury.

If you like legal thrillers with a twist, you may like this book.

I found the book heart wrenching at times but yet I couldn't put it down. I HAD to know how it would end.

Like I said...an emotional train wreck.

Angela at Angela's Adventures is hosting Friday High Five. It's very easy to play along just post five things about anything. Mr. Linky is up on her site and it only takes a second to link up. So what are you waiting for?

Today I decided to post five things that happened to me at swim class tonight. As a preface let me say that both of my girls swim at the Y on Friday nights. They are not in the same class. One swims at 6:30 and the other swims at 7:00 p.m. Tonight also had my son with me as my husband had dinner plans. It is also important to note that it is hotter than the gates of hell inside the Y swimming pool. Why? I couldn't hazard a guess.
Tonight I learned:

1. The girls should only bring their towels into the pool area with them. If we bring the entire swim bag in with us, my middle daughter might unroll the towel with a fling and toss her sister's underwear right into the deep end (no I'm not kidding)
2. My son cannot be entertained for an entire hour, no matter how many snacks I bring.
3. Even in short sleeves in the dead of winter, it is possible to come close to heat stroke if you spend more than 1 hour in the pool area at the Y;
4. If left alone, my 10 year old will use hand soap throughout her hair in the locker room shower;
5. Bringing juice boxes and Cheese Nips for the girls was an A+ idea; no whining about being starving

One out of five ain't bad.