my day job

I had some pretty sweet plans for this post. It was going to include all sorts of Halloween festivities complete with pictures. It turns out, though, that my computer is being a buttface and needed a trip to the computer doctor. Guess you'll have to wait a couple of days for holiday pictures, but trust me - they're worth waiting for.

Speaking of worth and wait...I realized that I rarely ever discuss my day job here. Besides being Shawn's Wife, Jude's Mom, and Small Business Owner, I do have another full time job. I've probably withheld discussing it here because I know that what I do can be divisive, and the middle child in me hates conflict. But the time has come, my friends. The time has come.

Are you ready for it?!

In a nutshell, I talk to students about sex. That's right. My job. Is to. Talk. About. Sex. I'm an abstinence educator and Director of a program called Worth the Wait. I work with medical personnel who present to 8th grade students the prevalence and reality of STDs. I also work with high school students and we present a program (with skits) to those 8th grade students about some of the emotional junk that comes with having sex outside of marriage.

I actually work at a crisis pregnancy center, and feel like I have the most amazing job in the world. The bulk of my time is spent shaping the Worth the Wait drama presentation - which means working with the high school students. I love doing the presentations themselves, and I love the ministry we have at the crisis pregnancy center, but working with those high school students is my absolute favorite part of this ministry (to see a quick clip of one of our skits, click here) If you think about it, it takes a special kind of kid to stand up and say, "hey. i'm saving sex for marriage. AND i want to be in front of 300 8th graders at a time and tell them to do the same."

It's those kinds of kids with whom I get to hang out. Yeah, my job's pretty sweet.

Beyond being able to spend time with and mentor high school students and being very comfortable talking about sex (sometimes too much so - i drop words like "herpes" in casual conversation if i'm not careful), I also work with an amazing group of women and have an incredible work environment. Even though it means absolute chaos sometimes, we're so blessed to not have to put Jude in daycare. Shawn takes Mondays as his Sabbath, so he stays home with Jude on Mondays. I work from home on Tuesdays and Thursdays and keep Jude then. I bring the kiddo into work with me on Wednesdays, and Shawn takes Jude into work with him on Fridays (which is actually getting kind of difficult for the both of us).

It means careful planning on our parts and often having to stay up late to get work done once Jude's down for the night. However, it also means that either Shawn or I have been able to see each and every one of Jude's "firsts." It means both of us working through the weekends, but it also means one of us is spending the entire day with him seven days a week. It means Shawn and I see less of each other and get less quality time because we're so often playing our game of "Pass the Jude," so the other can get work done, but it also means Jude's never directed a "Mama," at another caretaker (except Shawn....but I'll let that one slide). It means sacrificing a lot ourselves...a LOT of time...a lot of energy...and some days a lot of sanity...but I so cherish the time I have with that kiddo. I cherish knowing what milestones he's reached, I cherish holding him while he's napping, I cherish taking a break from work to play peek-a-boo, I cherish knowing when something is wrong, and I even cherish (most of the time) being the one who accidentally knocks his arm on a door frame and being the one who holds him when he's screaming because he's overtired.

Our jobs are both ministries that require of us much more than the typical 40 hour work weeks, but we've determined that our first ministry is to our family. We're beyond blessed to work in environments that allow us the flexibility to care for Jude ourselves. It's insane, and to be perfectly candid - I'm not sure how much longer we can clip along at this pace - but we can't help but be overwhelmed with gratitude when we look at how much influence we have in Jude's life and know that we haven't missed a second of it.

boo for the flu (part two)

Jude got the flu. Didn't know what to do. It made me blue. But then I knew. I had to tell you. 'Cause you would sympathize too.

Okay, okay. I'll give up my budding career as a poet. All that poem needed was some long pauses in nonsensical places and you'd have yourself a Maya Angelou poem. Speaking of which (of whom?) - have I ever mentioned that she apparently lives in Winston? And that they say (and we all know that "they" are authorities on the subject) that Oprah has a house here, too? So here's the plan...

Oprah and Dr. Angelou will be out shopping for some friend of Oprah's who is pregnant. They go into O Baby Organics (because that's the hip place to be in town), and they'll see my diapers. Obviously - they'll fall in love with them and Oprah will call me and tell me that I just must be on her favorite things show.

And Dr. Angelou will never know that I made fun of her poetry on my blog - so you guys better not let it leak, alright?

Okay, so Jude got the flu. Besides a couple of colds and an ear infection, this was the first time Jude's been really sick. I have to admit that the entire time he was in pain, I couldn't help but think of Jonah and Patrice. It broke my heart to see my little fireball transform into a limp rag in my arms, but I know that it doesn't even compare to what Patrice has to watch Jonah go through. That boy is so amazing to me.

But I'm getting sidetracked - Jude had a fever of 101.9 when we put him down for the night on Saturday. I gave him Tylenol, but knew I'd be up with him at some point in the night. He actually (thankfully) slept until 4:30, and was pretty much wide awake - but none too happy about it. I checked his temp when he woke up, and it was 102.1, which scared me a little bit. I called the pediatrician and while we were waiting for them to call back, we checked WebMD. According to that (and to the nurse who called back), a high temperature in a baby doesn't necessarily warrant emergency room panic. You should panic if they're having trouble breathing, but as long as you can keep the fever under control, you can just make a regular sick visit.

Shawn's workday on Sundays is from about 5:30am to about 10:00pm, and we usually try to squeeze in lunch together before he has to head back to set up for EvenSong. I was so glad to be able to make an appointment for 2:30 - Shawn had to rearrange some of his workload, but he was able to go with me to the appointment and to pick up the medication.

Jude was just miserable, though. He vacillated between just wanting to lay pathetically on my chest and screaming his head off. Having just had the flu, I knew he was probably achy down to his bones, exhausted, his throat hurt, and his little tummy felt very unstable. We took him to the doctor where they did a nasal swab for the flu and pricked his finger to check his white blood count. His count was just fine, but he did test positive for the flu (they didn't say whether it was the swine flu or seasonal flu for either of us, so I'm assuming it was seasonal).

Here's my usually happy and easy going boy on Daddy's lap at the doctor:


With a sick baby, waiting fifteen minutes for test results can feel like you're waiting for ten hours. I'm pretty resourceful at finding random things to amuse Jude (his favorite toys right now are his thermometer case and the spongey tip of his infant Tylenol bottle - go ahead and tell me what a bad Mom I am...I can take it), so we did the old blow up the glove trick:
Shawn acted like I was crazy, but we got a good ten minutes of non-crying out of it. Totally worth it.

Jude went to the doctor on Sunday, and is today almost 100% back to normal. He's slept his normal hours for the past two nights, and has eaten normally as well. He's now giggling at the dog while he feeds him puffs from his chair.

So...not normal, maybe. But he's Jude again, at least.

football

We took Jude to his very first football game last weekend. Two of the high schools from which many of our students come were playing one another. His reaction?

So they wear tights and helmets and take turns holding that brown thing?

Oooohhh...but the hit each other! Now THAT'S fun!

Warm snuggly blanket? Check. Adorable orangey fall jacket (thanks Tate!)? Check. Pacifier complete with clip so it doesn't get thrown between bleachers? Check. Coffee for Mommy and Daddy because staying out until 9:00 is kind of an ordeal now? Check.

Dear Fall. Thank you for coming again and bringing your friends Caramel Apple Cider, Beautiful Leaves, Jackets & Scarves, Open Windows, Yummy Soups, Pumpkin Patches, and High School Football. We would like it a lot if you made yourself at home and stayed for awhile. When you're ready to go, though, please invite your friend Snow to take your place. Love, Shawn, Jen, and Jude.

jude plays catch

Well, maybe it's a little one sided catch playing. Yeah, I throw things at my son. And I laugh.

sweet homemade wipes

Before I get started, I just want to ask you guys to pray for Jonah. He's having a tough time eating, and Patrice is starting to have to seriously consider a gtube. Not only is he not drinking formula well, but he's also not ever really gotten the hang of eating solid food. I can't even imagine how scared Patrice must be right now, so please pray with me that Jonah will miraculously start downing his milk like never before. I know many of you don't know Matt, Patrice, and Jonah personally, but thank you so much for praying for and caring about a family that Shawn and I love so much.

Throughout the course of my pregnancy, I set about trying to eliminate as many of the recurring costs of babyhood as possible. I knew we'd be trying to do this whole thing on a minister's salary, and I knew my eventual dream would be to be a stay at home Mom, so the frugalista in me went into overdrive. In my experience, two of the biggest recurring expenses are 1) diapers and 2) wipes. I knew we'd cloth diaper, but Shawn and I both had a gut reaction of "ew. gross." to the thought of using cloth wipes.

Now that I've cloth diapered for almost a year, the idea of cloth wipes doesn't gross me out any longer (I actually think it'd be pretty easy). However, it still grosses out Shawn - so out of respect for him, I make my wipes out of paper towels.

This serves three purposes that I love 1) It's significantly cheaper than buying wipes, 2) We don't have to go to the store when we're running low on wipes. We buy our paper towels in 12 packs, so we typically have plenty available when I need to make more wipes, and 3) I know exactly what is in the wipe solution

So how on earth do I turn a very regular roll of paper towel into wipes suitable for the most adorable Judeabutt in the world? Well first, I gather my supplies. 1. Roll of paper towel (we like select-a-size. you just need a small one for the pees but can use a couple for the rest) 2. Baby Oil 3. Baby Shampoo 4. 1 Tbsp. measuring spoon 5. Measuring Cup 6. Sharp Knife 7. Cutting Board 8. Butter Knife 9. An empty plastic wipes container


Cut the paper towel roll in half - width wise.
Beautiful. I take the extra one and set it aside for the next round of wipes I'll need to make.

I use the butter knife to help separate the adhesive that's between the paper towel and the cardboard middle. Then I pull out the cardboard middle.

Voila! I tend to give the cardboard piece to my son to play with 'cause I'm just that fun. Keep an eye on your kiddo if you do the same - the cardboard will most likely go in his mouth where it'll become soggy and the perfect consistency for getting stuck in his throat. Just take it away when it starts getting mushy.

This is what the paper towel roll will look like in the wipes container - now all that's left is making the solution!

I then put about 1 and 1/3 cups of water in the measuring cup (riveting pictures, huh?)

And then add 1 Tablespoon of baby oil:

And then 1 Tablespoon of baby shampoo (seriously, I'm totally going to win a photojournalism award for this stuff):

Then I shake it all about...

After it's thoroughly mixed (or unthoroughly - there's really no wrong way to do this), I pour the solution onto the wipes. A couple of tips for this part -

1. Keep the paper towel roll in your wipes container so that the excess solution falls into the container.

2. Start from the inside. I found when I poured from the outside that the inside didn't get nearly wet enough.

Then I just pour the rest of the solution on the paper towel roll - rotating the roll as I go:

Pull away the first "wipe" (because they can stick together pretty easily and it's a pain to try and find the first wipe when you have a very impatient naked kiddo on the table), close the lid, and you're all set!
Homemade wipes that don't require you having to launder them!

boo for the flu

Good News: I've lost five pounds in two days.

Bad News: It's because I feel like someone's taking a Roto Rooter to my gut and having a field day.

Good News: Shawn was able to work from home today so that I'm not puking up my guts AND trying to take care of Jude.

Bad News: Poor guy (both guys, actually) will most likely get this, too. We're trying to be super careful and me and Lysol are bffs right now, but you just can't be this close to a sicky and not get it, too.

Good News: Tamiflu is amazing. I've never had the stuff before, and I'm already feeling so much better after only having been taking it it for less than 24 hours.

Bad News: The stuff cost us $50. Plus a $25 copay for the doctor's visit. If Jude and Shawn get this, we'll be out $225 for sickness. Getting sick is just not in our budget - but whatcha gonna do?

Ironically - I refused to get a flu shot last week because we didn't have the $25 in our budget, even though Shawn kept telling me I needed it. I don't know if you've noticed, but $25 is less than $75.

Shawn: 5
Jen: 0

video time!

Blogger has finally let me upload a few of the videos I've taken of Jude. Don't you worry your little head, though - I have plenty more where these came from.

This is the worm crawl he was doing a couple of months ago. He's since figured out how to crawl like a proper baby, but I'm so glad I captured it on camera!

google settles all our arguments

How sad is that? Allow me to illustrate.

We had an ongoing debate as to how the brand of "I can't believe it's not butter" is referred in England. Why would we debate something so ridiculous, you ask? In our weird, convoluted way I think we're flirting. Or maybe we're just bored. I haven't decided yet.

My vote was that the English version was called, "Butter - or is it?" Twenty minutes of google searching later, we found this:




Shawn: 1
Jen: 0

Now, there's something that you need to know about my husband. He sees the world in cartoon characters. I would say with 70% of the people we meet, he will later tell me, "That person looks like such and such cartoon character," and it's usually a Muppet. Early in our relationship, when I showed up to class wearing a turtleneck sweater and my black rimmed glassed, he told me I looked like a Sexy Velma.

I'm still unsure if that was a compliment or not.

Several months ago, Shawn called Jude "Dopey." You would think that after knowing Shawn for almost eight years now, I would know that his cartoon character to actual person analogies are pretty accurate, but I still disputed the fact that our son looks like Dopey. We googled a picture of Dopey, and well...you be the judge:

Shawn: 2

Jen: 0

One night, Shawn and I started debating whether Frisch's Big Boy is referred to primarily as Frisch's or Big Boy. This may or may not have been spurred on by the fact that my hair was doing a weird flip that Shawn said looked like Big Boy's hair.

I told Shawn he was crazy, and that Big Boy is the name of the mascot, Frisch's is the name of the restaurant. Shawn asserts that the biggest sign in front of the restaurant says "Big Boy," on it - so it is therefore referred to as Big Boy. I assert that's ridiculous. You don't just refer to McDonald's as The Golden Arches because that's their sign. Nobody says, "Let's go to The Golden Arches," without everyone else replying, "Dude, it's called McDonald's."

A few google searches later, we found out that apparently referring to the restaurant as "Frisch's" is a peculiarity specific to the Cincinnati area. Kind of like beating the Steelers a few weeks ago, but whatever. We won't go there.

Shawn: 3

Jen: 0

Just this morning, as I was putting food on Jude's highchair tray for him to eat, I told him that he was getting a smorgasborg of food. Except that I was in random-baby-talk mode, which means I said something like, "Judeabag, look at you! You're getting a smorgasborg of food! That's right, kiddo - Smorg. Ess. Borg."

Shawn looked at me like I was all cute and amusing, and said, "What'd you call it?" I answered, "A smorgesborg. Why?"

Honey," he said (very patronizingly, I might add), "It's smorgasbord...with a D." We argued for a minute, with me making the point that I happen to be the reader of the family and am really the familial authority on how things are pronounced.

And then Shawn brought up the fact that until I was in late high school, I thought hors devours was pronounced, "oars day vores." In my house, we just called 'em snacks, so I had only read the word, and never heard it pronounced.

Since there's really no way to reply to that fact with dignity, I just said, "We'll see." I can't lie. Hitting up google to settle this debate was one of the first things I did. Let's just say

Shawn: 4

Jen: 0

Oh google. At once both a good and reliable friend and my provingshawnwrong nemesis.

what to do with a coletrane

I feel badly for our dog, I really do. Eleven months ago, he was pretty much king of this place. He was allowed up on the bed with us and his needs were met and discussed with thorough interest. Shawn and I both spent intentional time rolling around the floor and playing with him, and I tried to take him on a run or walk a couple of times a week (before bedrest, anyway). Now, the poor guy is lucky if Shawn or I remember to feed him by 5:00pm and if we give him fifteen minutes of dog petting goodness after Jude goes down for the night.

Cole's a good dog. He's very loving, he's protective, and has not ever...not once...growled at or threatened Jude. Not even when Jude crawls underneath him (while he's eating) to get to his food. Not even when Jude uses Cole's head as a stepping stone to the coffee table. Not even when Jude decides to take Cole's kong (Cole's one and only toy in a menagerie of plastic squeeky things). Cole just looks at Jude like, "what the heck, dude?" and calmly walks away.

So I know we have a great dog - I do. But we also have a dog who barks at the neighbors ALL THE TIME. We have a dog who - at least twice a week - poops or pees in our house. On our freshly cleaned, baby crawled on carpet. We have a dog who decides that 3am right next to our bed is the best time and place to obnoxiously clean every last flippin' part of his body. We have a dog who loves to sit outside Jude's door while we're trying to rock him down for a nap, and has the uncanny timing to stand up and thwap his huge ears, jangle his collar, and make a frustrating amount of noise right as we're laying Jude in the crib.

And did I mention that Cole's decided our living room is a perfect place for his bathroom needs? Because that's the one that's really getting to me lately. Our home isn't perfectly clean, but we do our best to keep it tidy and at the very least - sanitary. In looking around my living room right now, I think that if you dropped by, you'd be impressed at its cleanliness for having an 11 month old and a sewing business. Sure, everything heavy or breakable is on top of our highest furniture - making it look strange - but clean, nonetheless.

And I don't have a lot of spare time. I've become an expert in efficiency, and I have very specific tasks planned for the amount of attention Jude requires during the day. I have things that I can do with one hand planned for the times he needs me to hold him, I have things that I can do with him crawling at my feet planned for the times he needs me nearby but not necessarily playing with him, I have things planned that need intense concentration for when he's napping or content to play alone, and I have things planned that can be done in spurts (like writing a blog or shooting out emails) planned for when he's in his highchair and needs intermittent attention (like giving him bits of food).

See? It's crazy, but yes...I even plan out when I can go pee.

And cleaning up dog poop? NOT. IN. THE. PLAN.

And while I'm grumbling about wasting my time and all the things I need to be doing with that time, I know in the back of my mind that it's partly our fault. Our once beloved dog is now on the bottom of the priority list.

And part of that, I know, is healthy. Jude will always come before Cole. Always. If we need to spend money on Jude's college fund or Cole getting some kind of $5,000 surgery - Jude's going to win. If both Cole and Jude are in a life threatening situation - Jude's getting saved. Cole's a dog. Jude's a human. Jude wins.

But I also know that as responsible dog owners and lovers, we need to take better care of Coletrane...or give him to someone who will. And so this is the crux at which we stand.

I don't want to give him away (and I know Shawn doesn't either). Jude's finally getting old enough to have a sort of sibling-like relationship with Cole. Jude laughs so hard when Cole does silly things, and Cole and I have a similar understanding of being driven nuts by Jude sometimes. Cole keeps me safe when Shawn's gone on trips, and that daggone dog loves the heck out of us. He handled taking the brunt of my postpartum depression with grace and an unconditional love surpassed only by my Savior.

But we can't keep him cooped up in our tiny house and expect him to behave, and I can't keep cleaning our carpets like a madwoman twice a week. This isn't working, and something has to change.

So I'm asking you - blog friends - for advice. I've been looking into invisible dog fences and would love any thoughts or reviews you have on those (especially on how not to spend a lot of money). How do we take care of our sweet puppy in this different phase of our life? What do we need to do differently, and how can we fit in taking care of his needs with the current demands of our all too busy life?

steelers diaper love

Oh man, the things Jude and I do because we love Shawn. Like sew a Steelers patch onto a black diaper with dark yellow snaps. And then wear it on our cutte little bum (that would be Jude's role in this whole thing - not mine).

And in case you're wondering, I'm sorry, but I can't make you a diaper with your favorite team's patch sewn on the hiney. There are way too many licencing issues that it makes my head spin. But I WOULD be willing to be hired by the Steelers Coorporation to make official Steelers cloth diapers. Or any other team, for that matter. After all, the Steelers are Shawn's loyalty - not mine.

...Just sayin'

I think Coletrane's jealous. I guess his yellow collar against his black fur isn't "Steeler-y" enough for him. Okay, Coletrane, I'll make you a Steelers diaper. Or maybe a Steelers dog bed would be more appropriate?

jude goes to college

From Friday through Sunday this past weekend, we took some of our high school students on a college tour of (relatively) nearby Christian colleges. We began with Kentucky Christian University in Grayson, KY, traveled on to Cincinnati Christian University in Cincinnati, OH, and then drove to Johnson Bible College in Knoxville, TN.

Because my version of our weekend would be boring and filled with thoughts about tuition prices, FAFSA information, and ratio of teachers and students, I thought I'd let Jude tell you himself about his weekend. Keep in mind that this was the first student ministry trip on which we've taken Jude that didn't involve him being fed from the umbilical cord and falling asleep when I started walking. Believe it or not, they're a lot more work outside the womb. So without further ado, allow me to present to you...Judeabug...

So this past weekend, we did a whole lot of driving. Mommy kept saying that she was so worried that I was going to be fussy and cry a whole lot. I think it's really funny to prove her wrong, though. We drove from home to Kentucky. I had a lot of fun on that part of the trip! My good friend Katie got me to take a whole entire two naps in my carseat by putting her hand next to my face - one of my favorite things EVAH!

We got to KCU, and after we went to chapel (which I slept through most of), Mommy and Daddy took us to Pizza Hut. Mommy started to tell me that was where Daddy worked to earn money for their honeymoon, but that was when I put my fingers in my ears and shouted, "La La La La La!" Gross, Mommy. Gross. But I took my fingers out of my ears to get some pizza crust, which is delicious, by the way.


And then Mommy and Daddy showed me the bench where they sat and talked a lot. Whatever. They talk all the time - what's so special 'bout sitting on a bench and talking?

We took a walk around campus. Oh great. Does this mean I'm engaged to Mommy? Or DADDY?! Oh man - can you handle how funny I am?

And hey - check out my pretty sweet carseat cover. I can't read yet, but I'm pretty sure those words say, "Most Amazing Baby Ever."

The people at KCU apparently didn't want an 11 month old staying in the dorms (and I had big plans for those college kids...big plans), so Mommy and I stayed in a hotel room that night. Mommy was super excited and thought she'd get a lot of sleep. But seriously - I was at a college! Hello!? Party! I kept her up pretty much all night...that woman just does not know how to party.

We got up super early (or stayed up super late...depending on how you look at it) to drive from Kentucky to Cincinnati. We heard someone talk, but I really enjoyed crawling on the chairs in the back of the room. Seriously, if I had to pick a college based on its chairs, CCU would definitely win.

CCU was so nice and fed us a lunch of something called Skyline Chili. Mommy was way too excited about this stuff, it was weirding me out a little bit.

They made me try it. My thoughts?

"Eh."

And THEN we got to go to a mall, and I got to see my Grammy and Grampy! I was so excited that they met us to hang out!

Grammy won me a Chick Fil A cow that I played with on the trip back. Grammys and Grampys are the best.

After that, we went to a church in Cincinnati. On our way there, Mommy gave me some puffs. I haven't had these kind before, but they are YUMMY! As you can see, I was very interested in "reading" the ingredients.

After church, we hit the road for Knoxville. We stopped to eat dinner, and after that, Mommy and Daddy put me in my pajamas and let me crawl around a little while we were waiting on the students to finish dinner. (Mommy note - the van was parked and completely off.)

Then Mommy put me in my carseat, read me a book, prayed for me, and tried to get me to fall asleep. I think she was trying to trick me into thinking it was bedtime. Seriously, though. I'm an entire 11 months old. I know the difference between a 15 passenger van with high school kids in it and my crib and dark room. You're not dealing with a 5 month old here. I didn't really sleep much, and was so excited when we got to Johnson! Mommy, Daddy, and I had our own dorm room (far away from the other kids and college students), and I was so excited to be awake at midnight! That hasn't happened in months!

I learned that college dorms have lots of drawers, and I just so happen to LOVE drawers! If that's what college is all about - sign me UP!

Once again, I was so excited about college (and those drawers...oh those drawers!) that I couldn't sleep! I let Mommy and Daddy have four or five hours, and I even talked (...err...cried) them into taking them into the bed with them. I've been working on that sweetness for months, and they finally caved.

I was excited to wake up the next morning and see the campus, though. I was going for the "college kid during finals week" look.

Mommy let me crawl around with just my diaper on for awhile, which was awesome! Nothin' makes me happier than diaper playtime. Mommy kept saying that she and Daddy were going to move into my dorm room just like that night if I didn't behave. I don't know what she's talking about. Mommy and Daddy are the most fun people I know. I think it'd be pretty sweet to have them with me in college (but Daddy said no way. he said they're going to have a big party and lots of dates when i'm in college).

After our campus tour (they did NOT point out the super cool drawers. apparently they don't know how to attract prospective students) we hit the road again. I thought I'd give Daddy a break and drive for little bit....

...but apparently you can't randomly play with sticks and gears and stuff when you're driving. So I left that part up to Daddy. Apparently he hasn't seen me driving my lion.

Besides, I had some serious fussing to do.

But really, if I trapped YOU in a carseat for stretches of five hours at a time, you might be a little cranky, too.

So Mommy took a ridiculous amount of pictures because at least the camera was amusing me. I'll spare you, though, and only show you a couple.

And then the kids in the backseat started making me laugh. Oh man - they are hilarious! I hope you have some high school kids in your life, because they are seriously too funny. Especially the guys - there's nothing better than high school guys looking ridiculous in public just to make me smile.

I was so happy to be home, in my own bed, with my own puppy, and playing with my own toys - you have no idea! And I think I'll do just fine when the time comes for me to go to college. It turns out that all I have to do is smile really big and show people my four teeth, and I have them wrapped around my finger. Professors, students, college presidents...yeah...this college thing is going to be a snap.