Draw Muh

Those of you who know me in real life know that I hate confrontation. I avoid confrontation as much as I possibly can whenever I can. Yet this weekend it seems that the universe is doing its best to throw confrontation all up in my grill. I don't like it.

I won't go into details here because one involves my daughter and the other involves my church, but suffice it to say that I have spent the better part of the weekend with my guts in a knot - or my nuts in a got, as I told my mom last night. I really am not much of a worrier - except when it comes to my family. Both instances involve my family and I have been in a flit.

Ach.

Let me just say that sometimes it's realllllllllly hard to take the high road. There are so many times it's hard to be the adult in a situation where no one else is acting like one.

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The Phanton Smell is still lingering in my house. I threatened to go to the Super8 the other night, threatened rather vehemently through sobs, snot and tears. Paul and I got out there last night and pulled out furniture, shined flashlights into any and every place that might possibly look inviting to a mouse at death's door. Cousin Chad was out here visiting after he finished hunting and he went up in the attic for us. I was sincerely hoping he'd find a gigantic rotting critter, but he found nothing.

When I called Mom, asking for any advice on what to do, the first question she asked was, "Uhm...Kristin....did Paul kill Dog-Hitting Neighbor's Husband and hide him in your bedroom?" I personally thought that was hilarious, especially since Dog-Hitting Neighbor's Husband actually confronted my husband and threatened to sue us. (Yeah, he threatened to sue us because his wife hit our dog with her car. Evidently it made sense to him when he hollered it at my husband across the yard. We, however, laughed. Much.) But no, Dog-Hitting Neighbor and her husband are still flying down our road every morning like clockwork, so it's neither of them stinking up my house.
Paul and I have slept in the living room five nights now. I told him one more night and I was getting the couch - I'm tired of sleeping in the shape of an "L" in the big chair every night. More than anything, though, I miss my office. Thank God for the laptop.

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Abby's sleepover Friday night went great. She's got a great group of friends and there was no fighting, fussing or side-taking like last year. We were asolutely grateful. Last year was awful.

We took them to the corn maze and spent about 3 hours getting lost, sliding down the hill slides, going on a hay ride and picking out pumpkins. The long side of the maze is supposed to take 30 minutes. It took us nearly 45. The short side is supposed to take 10. It took us 20. But the girls had a blast and TotOne scared me so bad once that I tinkled a little. Every one of the girls that went thanked Paul and I for taking them. We were stunned and way impressed. They've got some good parents, those girls. And they're just good girls.

When we got back here to the house I turned them loose with paint, glitter, hot glue, pipe cleaners and yarn and for nearly 2 hours those girls decorated their pumpkins like there was no tomorrow. After that was an hour and a half of Wii and then they watched Hairspray. When the movie ended at 3:20 I decided that this ol' gal could go no further. They all crashed as soon as they got still and settled down.

I got up the next morning with Paul, got him off to work and then frustratingly discovered I couldn't go back to sleep even though my body was crying. So I took a shower, cleaned up the pumpkin-painting mess and started some laundry. Slumber parties aren't as fun as I remember them being as a kid.

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TotTwo played football Saturday night. We played Mrs. Coach's school. Abby was twenty kinds of frustrated trying to find Mrs. Coach across the field. As I sent a text message asking where she was and telling her to wave, Mom - who had been reading over my shoulder - said, "You know, years ago if we wanted to visit a friend from a neighboring school we just walked over there...." Point made. I still didn't walk over there, though.

As we were leaving the field I saw a long-time blog-reader, Lisa, who I actually met a few years ago when she checked me out at Walmart . She was standing with two other women and she also knows Mom and Tater. We were all standing there talking and as I turned to say something to one of my kids I heard her say, "Yeah, that's her!" Turns out it was MarshaMarshaMarsha who comments here frequently. It is always such an awesome thing to meet y'all in real life. It's a very surreal feeling, but entirely awesome.

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Yesterday we went back to the corn maze, with the church this time. All three kids had a great time and Paul and I got to spend the day sitting on benches with our church family, watching the kids of the church play and have fun. Some of these kids are pretty poor and come from some pretty sad family situations. I love watching them get to act like kids.

We left earlier than the rest of the church did because, frankly, we were all flat worn out. One can only handle the corn maze and all the festivities involved therein so many times in a weekend before hitting a brick wall of exhaustion.

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The van, which has been sitting un-driven since last Wednesday, went to the shop today.

Instead of needing a new $2500 transmission, it only needed two sensors which thankfully cost $135.

Praise God. Because we don't have $2500.

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Friday the elementary school sent home notes, one from the principal and one from the county health department, informing us that there have been five confirmed cases of chicken pox in the elementary and one confirmed case of staph infection. That's just the elementary. There are at least two cases of the pox in the high school.

Oh goody.

Today, one of the girls that came to the sleepover, went home with the chicken pox. When Abby got out of the shower she came up the hall with a strange look on her face. She raised her shirt and said, "Mom? Is it?" She has four bumps on her belly and side. They aren't blisters, so I called Mom to find out if the pox start out as blisters or bumps that turn into blisters. She said they can do both or either. Abby says they itch like crazy. Of course they do.

I never thought I'd say this, but I hope she got fleas from picking up the dogs or cat.

Please, Lord, let it be fleas. Paul and I have tickets to see Brooks & Dunn, Darius Rucker, Keith Anderson and Chasing Dixie this weekend at the Big Fancy Casino. Gosh...that sounded pretty selfish, didn't it? Well, I'm sure Paul won't mind staying here with her while SisterJ, Tater and I go to the concert....right?