Job hunting - I hate it!

I hate job hunting. The whole process of filling out the 1.5 hour long applications for each school district and then just waiting by the phone for an offer to interview. I wish there was simpler way. Like a hotline to God. That would be nice. Just let the principal pick up the red phone and hear God say, "Give the job to Jeff Schulz or else I will smite you with frogs, locusts, and bad hair!" Well, something to that effect would be okay. I just wish it were simpler.

Pregnancy is hard!

Janette is suffering from a strained muscle in her upper left leg in the back. It is quite immobilizing apparently. There is nothing one can do about it. She says that it is hard to describe where the pull is except for saying that she pulled a butt muscle.

Our little girl, Bailey Elizabeth, is also a gymnast. She has been moving a lot and keeping Janette feeling like she is full of butterflies. She is due October 12. Things can only get more fun from here.

I hope she comes a few weeks early. Janette has been a trooper and deserves that little gift after having carried her through the heat of summer.

The most entertaining thing about pregnancy is watching Janette interact with her Doctor. Believe me, they are two peas in a pod! They have the same inflections on their words and speak the same language. It makes my head spin to hear them go at it. I have to pay close attention to keep up. Every once in a while I interrupt the conversation to add something and slow the pace. It only works for two seconds, but at least I can verify that they have taken a breath!

Cheers!

Worries, worries, worries...

I have so many worries these days. Janette generally shares them too. Some I worry about more and some not so much; Janette - the same. I must say that we both prioritize our worries very differently though.

Today I did some spring cleaning while Janette was at work. I moved the couch to vacuum and mop, and there it was. Enough cat hair to make a whole other cat. I went through a whole slew of emotions that include, but are not limited to, disgust, anger, nausea, frustration, etc. You get the idea. Then, I went to go switch our sheets from the washer to the dryer. I was shocked and amazed to see that furballs had collected in the washer and were now plastered against the side of the washer drum. I was genuinely worried. I know that everytime I vacuum I get a Darcy-sized fur collection in the vacuum canister. Yes, I'm worried. Can I do anything about it? No.

I don't wish on anyone, the wrath of the furballs! Yes, you are allowed to feel for me.

If it were more manly, I would puke!

I must say that I have never had an indoor cat in my home in my life, until marriage. My wife has two cats. Their names are Allie and Darcy, in case you haven't met them. I have referred to them as several things, including but not limited to: Target and Practice, Dead and Meat, Dumb and Dumber, Kick and Ball, etc. You get the idea. I get along with them and they are quite drawn to me for whatever reason. They entertain me at times, but other times...(big sigh) I am repulsed by them. I have never had a bad gag reflex. After we first moved into our house in Huffman, one of the cats had yakked in the hallway. Janette cleaned it up (after much debate over who would). I only gave in when I said I would just hold the roll of paper towels for her. Anyhow, just watching the process turned my stomach and I had to try hard to hold down lunch. The whole process just grosses me out!



Which brings us to the actual subject of this post. THE LITTER BOX. Now that we are expecting our first child, I get litter box duty. At first, I had the stomach turns every time. Now, I am just extremely disgusted. Progress? Some may say so. I am not happy about having to clean it - EVER. Novertheless, I will do it for my unborn child. I just don't like feeling how heavy the litter box is when I know it was not that heavy to begin with. Then you take the lid off and BAM! The smell hits you and you spy them. The little brown logs that insist on camouflaging themselves in litter particles. It's like they don't want you to find them! When you take the first scoop, a huge clump of litter comes up that you had no clue was bound together! Apparently, this is from urine that has had time to dry. The clumps are like little shifting continents in a sea of litter. Some days I wonder how all of that came out of just two cats. I place all of the refuse in a plastic Target bag (they are better because they are thicker than Wal-Mart sacks) and I take it to the trash can.

Personally, I am more of a dog person. They do their business outside. I don't have to go searching for it in a "sea of the unknown." Oh well, I guess that is what love will do for you. You do things you never thought you would.

I don't know what this is all about

Apparently everyone needs a blog. We have enjoyed Rhia's Rubbish and desire to reach the height's of its success. I hope that success will be ours.

Anyhow, I have to say that I work in a ghetto school. I am amazed (not shocked, mind you, because nothing shocks me anymore) at what the kids come up with to do. Just today, the seniors that are classified as "Texas Scholars" were invited to a picnic lunch at the fairgrounds in Crosby. The seniors from the neighboring town of Huffman were also invited, as our towns share one chamber of commerce (I know, even more ghetto). After the lunch, the students from both schools, along with administration and high profile community members were lined up for a photo. One of the Crosby seniors yells, "One, two, three.." and that is where the fun begins. A whole groups yells obscenities in connection with how "superior" Crosby is to anywhere else. The Crosby Superintendant proceeded to clutch his chest, like the big one was coming. The principal turns as red as his shirt, and a counselor starts yelling at the kids that she will put their "happy butts" back on the bus. The kids settle down, for the most part. Just the occasional gang sign or birdie finger being thrown. OH YES, this is Crosby's best and brightest! Nevertheless, I digress.

After the photo, the words return that have now haunted them all. "One, Two, THREE!" Another obscenity is thrown out in unison in relation to the neighboring town. The poor students from the other school had no idea what they had done to the Crosby kids to deserve such a raunchy commendation. The buses were loaded quickly. The principal stepped on each bus and expressed his anger. He promised to cancel graduation and mail them their diplomas if they could not grow up. They could all just go their separate ways. (I'm not going to lie, I would prefer graduation not to happen. It is a pain!!) He told them when they got back to the school, to get in their cars and leave. He didn't want them "in his house" anymore.

Talking to the dance director, we agreed that had this happened and we were running things, we would have made them all stay in a central location and not speak for the rest of the day. If one did, we would cancel the ceremony. Letting them leave was just a reward for misbehavior! Anyhow, I didn't have time for that today. Too much going on.

I hope you enjoy reading our blog in the future. It will continue to be filled with wisdom and some not-so-much wisdom. Tootles!