They are mine...

I just finished reading The Host, and now that I've wiped the tears from my eyes, and gotten over my pathetic nature in crying over this dumb book, I'm hoping I can get on with my life. Who knows...papers might even get graded! (well, let's not get too far ahead of ourselves...)

Have you noticed the big pretty ball in the sky at night? It's called a FULL MOON, and it's been waxing gibbon for a couple of nights now. That's geek-speak for "the kids are goin' crazy up in this joint!" We've been completely off-schedule for two weeks (and we thrive on schedule), and now the music presentation was tonight and there's the full moon, and we've all been in a tizzy for a good bit of time now!

Right now, I'm laying in my bed, up well past 10pm, and blogging from a computer in my lap as my feet are cozily tucked under the covers, on top of which lies a snoring Shih Tzu. I'm completely exhausted, coming down with a cold, and my brain got mad at me and turned into a fuzzy fog.

But tonight was the magic music performance, and though I had to sit through it a whopping four times, I couldn't be prouder of or more in love with my children. They are my children. They call me mom on occasion, which I love since the closes thing I have to a child calls me "woof". They are split for their music class, so I had half in the first performance and half in the second. All the other fourth grade teachers said I should just pick one performance and go to that one, but how could I choose which one to go to? I love them all equally (stop rolling your eyes), and I would never want one to think I wouldn't come to their performance. I had soloists in both, I could not choose. They drive me absolutely insane (like, wandering-around-the-room-muttering-and-twitching insane), but I love them so much sometimes I can't stand it. And I'm SO PROUD of them I can't tell them enough.

Which leads me to being in my bed, up late, and exhausted. And sniffling. And downing Advil Cold and Sinus and Tylenol Cough and Sore Throat, because they are golden for curing what ails me. And obsessively taking my temperature. I don't get sick often, but when I do...lawsie mercie I'm an awful patient.

I've got a long weekend ahead of me as well, with lots going on and needing to be in four places at once on Friday and Saturday, and giving up seeing Donald Miller who is like a Christian rock star for my friend's birthday. And I've got to get sucked back into Meyer's Twilight in anticipation of the big movie night with the girls on Thursday. And I wish the Salvation Army would call me back and tell me where to be on Thanksgiving. And I have things to write and nights to sleep and I'm a little crazy up in my head because of it.

Did I mention the full moon?

Oh, yeah. P.S. The Christmas season has officially begun. Starbucks has begun using it's red cups, and today I heard the first stirrings of "Jingle Bells, Batman Smells, Robin Laid an Egg..."