*SIGH* Just Like Old Times

In my never-ending quest to find a way to pass Biology (Oh, that class!), my lab group and I went on an extra credit field trip to a local zoo, wildlife preserve, and animal sanctuary.  We spent the day classifying animals.  Baby Boy came along as my official tutor and tour guide.

We had so much fun! 

I mean, it was so reminiscent of our homeschool field trips!  I think Baby Boy and I may have irritated my lab group because we had so much fun together and almost forgot that we were supposed to be there in an academic capacity.  A lot of them are very young and I don't think they're used to young adults and their parents getting along so well.  Actually, for the first time in almost a year, we forgot about classroom  academics and went back to learning as fun and exciting and doesn't need to take place in the confines of four walls.  It was such a liberating day!

I usually hate to see animals in cages of any kind, but this particular zoo is actually made up of retired circus performers, confiscated exotic pets, and abandoned animals, so I know that this is a safe place for these animals to live out their golden years. 

  There were tigers.  They were very big and scary, until they started whining and crying like kitty cats when the zookeeper showed up with a bunch of pumpkins.  Apparently pumpkins are delicious to tigers.  

Baby Boy took this close-up of a lion.  I was too scared to get that close. 

 The tortoises were HUMONGOUS!

Lots of peacocks roamed free.  

 Some parrots even talked to us.  

  Oh, my new love affair is with this potbellied pig!  She wagged her tail at me and even posed like a model for several photos.  I wanted to give her a big kiss and bring her home.

 Look at the little chicken family.  Aren't they cute!

 Llamas!

 The goats are the only animals that they'd let us pet, so we petted them for about an hour, LOL. We LOVE animals. 

I'm not sure if this was a good trip or a bad trip for me.  I've been really going through homeschool withdrawal lately.  I'm seriously missing all the time Baby Boy and I spent learning, living, and growing together.  I do love the young man he's become, but, boy do I feel old and useless most days.  

Actually, now that I think about it, it was a very good trip.  An amazing trip!  I'm trying to focus on cherishing  all the time we have together instead of mourning the time we spend apart.  At least that's what I'm telling myself.  ;-)

Now I'm off to write that report.  Oy!

Until next time . . .

Freaky Foods

I had two separate freaky food experiences this weekend:

First of all, Baby Boy convinced me to try sushi.  Here's what it looked like.

 

It tasted . . . interesting.  Baby Boy ate all of it, so I guess he liked it. 

I don't think I'm cut out for raw . . . whatever that was. If anyone can enlighten me on that pile of green stuff and that folded mass of pinkish-orange meat-type substance, feel free.  As much as I consider myself a well traveled and fairly educated woman, I'm a simple meat-and-potatoes type eater. 

Then, we ran out of the potatoes we grew in our garden, so we had to buy some from the store.  Imagine our surprise when THIS rolled onto the kitchen counter.

All together now, can you say GMO foods?

As you can imagine, we only needed one potato to feed all of us, LOL.


Until next time . . .

Shock and Devastation

I hate to break my extended silence for such a depressing topic, but I need some blog therapy right now. Please feel free to stop reading now.



Today I have tears, tears, tears.

A very sweet, handsome, artistic, caring, funny, homeschooled friend about Baby Boy's age took his own life very recently.  He's been in our home, to Baby Boy's birthday parties, and to many functions where homeschooling families hang out.  I wouldn't say our families were super-close, but I think we can confidently call ourselves friends.

I'm taking this terribly hard.  It really saddens me that a young man felt his only option was to end his own life before it really had a chance to begin.  I just feel so sorry.  Sorry for him.  Sorry for his Mom.  Sorry for his family.  Sorry for his friends.  Sorry for Baby Boy.  Sorry for myself.  

I'm actually surprised at all the emotions that have been stirred up.  I suddenly feel all those aches and pains that I went through as a young person.  You know, I was a bonafide freak when I was a teen.  Not a mild freak, a REALLY freaky freak.  I was the one who ate lunch in the hallway on the steps to keep from getting picked on.  Shoot!  I still am, I just don't care what anyone thinks anymore.  I struggled with sexual identity, weight issues, poverty embarrassment, and just plain old-fashioned puberty.  Mom #2 and I both had separate struggles that led us to and from the brink of suicide, but luckily we had forces in our lives who pulled us back.  I wish this young man had been so fortunate.

I'm not sure what I'm trying to say here.  Just . . . if you know a young person who is struggling with who they are, please encourage them.  Let them know that it will certainly get better. 

I'm amazed at all the beautiful young people who feel hopeless.  What's going to become of the future if all the sensitive, creative souls are snuffed out?  We NEED them!

Live! Love! Laugh! Come out of the shadows and be yourselves!  WE NEED YOU!

I guess I just want everyone to hug their children a little tighter today and, if they want to talk, listen.  Even if they don't want to talk, talk to them.  I just don't want to hear about another life lost. 

I don't even know how I'm going to look into this Mom's eyes.  She just lost her precious baby boy. 

Please keep her family, and ours in your hearts today.

That's all.


Until next time . . .

Alive and Testy

I just finished my first round of tests for this semester.  In three classes all on the same day.  The fourth class was an essay.  Essays are the one thing I seem to be good at, so although worrying is what I seem to do best, I'm trying not to freak all-the-way out over it.  British Lit is kind of a *yawn* subject for me.  I just finished reading Frankenstein for the third time, so at least I know it's something I can discuss intelligently.  Hurray for Baby Boy and his love of science fiction.  Hurray for homeschool.

So far I'm staying firmly in the A area in all classes except biology where I have a hard B.   You know, the kind of B that feels like an A+.  That class is so hard.  I don't even know what language the professor is speaking half the time.

Baby Boy is majoring in Biology.  It's so hilarious how the fruit of my loins can be of such a different flavor than I am in every conceivable way.  He's been tutoring me in both biology and my math class.  If it weren't for him, I'd probably be rocking a D-.  Not a good look for my GPA.

Speaking of Baby Boy, he's doing great so far this semester.  This is his first semester officially all on his own.  The last two semesters we've been on the same campus and had at least one class together each term while I finished up some prerequisites.  This term he is at a separate campus on different days studying subjects that I just gloss by in the catalog.  He's officially all the way out of my league.  It happens faster than you know, Moms.  Treasure the time when you are academically smarter than your children.  Luckily, our tuition covers lots and lots of free tutoring . . . because there is absolutely none available for him at home.  Well, if he needs help with organization and time management, then I'm the Queen.  Course content?  Get back in the car and head to the tutoring lab.  I'm out of answers.

I actually have lots of stuff to blog about, but I'll stop there for now and try not to be such a stranger in the future.  School has me seriously overwhelmed this semester, plus I'm still waiting to hear from my top pick of transfer locations.  I'll take any and all prayers, well wishes, good vibes, positive energy . . . whatever you have to offer . . . my anxiety level is a bit too high for my liking.  *SIGH*  Such is life, I guess.


Until next time . . .

Eat Much?

Well, it turns out I'm officially a failure.

I'll admit that I've been a little high strung with research, writing, re-writing and studying in the big push for the final week of the summer semester.  Add that to supporting Baby Boy in his college classes, my usual CEO of the household duties, and overwhelmed doesn't even begin to describe how I feel.  Yes, I'm a little high strung.  So high strung in fact that Mom #2 voluntarily offered to take over the family cooking duties for me. 

People in this house don't volunteer for chores.  Don't get me wrong.  Chores do happen.  Regularly.  But extra chores?  Voluntarily?  Those simply do not happen.  So I'm not sure where this came from.  All I can say is that I either look a disaster, the food coming from my kitchen must be gross, or my loud and persistent whining and complaining must be getting on her nerves.  One of those, I'm sure. 

Anyway, I felt awful.  It really gut-punched me that I appear to need help.  I like doing it all.  Well, I like the idea of doing it all.  I actually hate to cook.  Even though I do.  Every.  Single.  Day. So reluctantly, (wink wink) I accepted her offer.  She can cook the meals.    

That was on Friday.  Fast forward to Monday. 

Imagine my surprise when I emerged from my research den about 30 minutes 'till dinner time and Mom #2 was sitting in her chair with her feet up and there was no aroma of delicious food coming from the kitchen.  When I inquired "what's for dinner" I kid-you-not she looked at me like I had grown another head.  Then she had the nerve to say "we don't have anything to cook, let me go to the store." 

Oh, I forgot to tell you.  Mom #2 enjoys cooking under very specific circumstances:  when she has the day off, when  she sees an interesting recipe she wants to try on the Food Network, or when her Mom tries a new recipe and she wants to outdo her.  She doesn't really understand the day-to-day cooking that has to happen so that the people in this house don't starve. 

Yes, the family has to be fed every day. 

After I gave her a quick inventory on how food works, she did manage to throw together a scrumptious meal.  Now she knows how it feels to be Mom #1. 

Get it together, Missy!


Until next time . . .