So, at 9:00 p.m. tonight, I decided to make the trip to Atlanta for my annual Look-I-Really-Do-Have-Friends convention, otherwise known as Dragon Con. I didn’t decide to go as much as I was convinced to go. A friend offered to help me with the cost, so I ran out of legitimate excuses.

I’m very happy to be going, but I really hate making the decision at the very last minute. My parents are always very negative about this trip. Planning it at the last minute certainly didn’t help. My dad actually said, “I don’t understand why you need to go.” Then again, my dad doesn’t usually understand much about why anyone wants to do anything.

“I don’t understand why your sister has to get married in Florida.”

“I don’t understand why your mother wants to redecorate the house.”

“I don’t understand why you want to buy a dog.”

“I never understood why you had to go to Australia as an exchange student.”

“I don’t understand why you want to get an art degree.”

Or, in other words. “I don’t understand why anyone would want to do anything different than what I would do.” And don’t be fooled into thinking my dad just needs someone to explain it to him. Oh no. If he doesn’t understand it’s because he doesn’t want to understand.

My mom’s never been actively negative, but I get the feeling she dislikes me going too. I think hers is more a concern about safety though. You know? Those internet weirdos.

Rob never complains about me going, but he hates last minute decisions. He knew I’ve been debating this trip again this year, so I don’t think it was a complete surprise when I told him.

My sister is the only one who really gets it. She tells me every year that I should go. And she thinks everyone else should accommodate me just so I can go. But then, what does she know? She’s getting married in Florida.

Person A has a habit of leaving things lying around. Sometimes an object will be set down and not returned to its proper place for two to three days at a time. Person A thinks this is perfectly normal. Person A has agreed to return things to where they belong if reminded about them.

Person B thinks that Person A is an adult and should not have to be told to put things away. Person B does a lot of the cleaning, so cannot be bothered with reminding Person A to put things away every day. After a few days, Person B will often put the things away, but often away means the trash can. Person B usually cannot remember where the things were put away—in their proper place or in the trash can—much to Person A’s frustration.

Person A and Person B have had this conversation MANY times over the past ten years. Person A maintains that Person B should not touch things that belong to someone else if Person B cannot differentiate between things we like to keep and thngs that are trash. Person B maintains that if the things had not been left carelessly about by Person A, this wouldn’t be an issue.

While commenting on Janet’s blog about her morning routine, I realized my comment was getting long enough to become a post of its own. So here I am.

Until last Friday, I expected the boys to return to school starting today. We’ve spent the last two weeks getting the boys inside from playing a little bit earlier every night. We’ve gotten them into a routine of showering before bed. We’ve gotten them to be in bed by a certain time. And we’ve been working on getting them up earlier in the morning. The night routine has been going well. The morning routine though? Not so well. I find myself crawling out of bed as late as 10:00 a.m. some mornings.

I’ve always considered myself a morning person because, well, I like mornings. I still consider myself a morning person, I guess, but only under the condition that I can wake up when I want to wake up. As long as I wake up by myself, I’m perky and energized. But if I have to wake up to an alarm clock, I feel anxious. Like really anxious. I get butterflies even. There’s something unnatural about waking up before the sun, don’t you think? Darn our civilized society and our barbarian rules. The worst part about waking to an alarm is knowing I have to be somewhere. No matter how early I get up, I ALWAYS feel rushed. Last year, the boys had to catch the bus, in front of our house, at 8:00. I would get up at 6:00. I’d wake them at 6:30. At 7:45 I would panic that they’d miss the bus. (I have recurring nightmares about me missing the bus as a kid, but that’s another issue for another time.)

This year could be a bit more chaotic. Since the boys are attending a charter school, I will have to drive them to school every morning. And since I have to be to school before they do, I need to get them to the school early. I figure we have to leave here no later than 7:30. I think I’ve figured out a way to have them ready to leave on time. I haven’t figured out a way to get rid of those butterflies though.

I enrolled the boys in a charter school today. It’s a school I’ve been considering since we first moved to the area, so it wasn’t a hasty decision. The school impressed me the first time I learned about it, but chose not to enroll the boys for a couple of reasons. One, I wanted to give our school district a chance. Two, I wasn’t sure how I felt about the boys attending a different school than their friends in the neighborhood. Since the first issue hasn’t worked out well for us and since that second issue has held less and less weight as the years go by, it was time to check out the charter school again.

There have been a few changes since I first checked out their program two years ago. One of the most noticable changes is that they’re requiring school uniforms this year. Overall, I’m happy with the rule, though it means I need to go school shopping again. They’ve also added a music and art program, both of which I consider extremely important. Also, they’ve added an academically gifted program, but I want to see my boys truly improve before I consult the program head on a hunch.

Their new school isn’t starting class until September 19th because of, what else? Construction. They’ve added a gymnasium and have expanded the main building as well. The boys don’t go back to school until a full twelve days after I go back. I need to make arrangements for childcare for that time, but I’ll have time to find something all next week.

The boys aren’t happy about going to a new school, but I think that’s because they don’t really understand what going to this new school means just yet. They’re very social, so I have no doubts they’ll fit in right away. They are happy about the school uniforms and the fact that they get three extra weeks of summer vacation than their friends though.

I think this is a good decision right now. In December, I’m going to make a decision whether they will stay at the charter school, or whether I will enroll them elsewhere. They’re on a waiting list for the school district from which I graduated, so the choice may be difficult come December. Hopefully by December, I will stop second guessing myself.

The boys are scheduled to start school on Monday. I say scheduled to start school because our school district started school late last year because of construction, and there is construction going on again this year. I don’t know why it has taken more than three months to fix the parking lot, but that’s another story.

Last year, a new gymnasium was being added to my boys’ elementary school. (I won’t go into my feelings about adding a new gym instead of building new classrooms to get rid of the portables, but I will say I don’t understand the priorities there.) The construction kept the school from opening on time. The postponement of classes was made known to the community, not through a letter to the parents and not through the school itself during the annual open house the week before school. No. It was made known through the local day care centers and, OF COURSE, the local pizza place. Yes, that’s right. The LOCAL PIZZA PLACE.

I complained about the pizza place being used as a source of communication last year when the first day of school was postponed, but I learned from the experience. This year, on the way to the open house to meet the second grade teachers, I drove by the pizza place. Turns out, the pizza place is better at putting up signs about school cancellations than it is at making pizza. Seriously, the pizza there is terrible, but the sign was clear. The open house had been cancelled. Word has it, it was cancelled due to the parking lot construction that has been going on all summer.

Tomorrow, I will call two more school systems in search of something better. I don’t know why these issues should surprise me so much, considering the trouble I’ve been having with my own university.

It’s that time of year. Time for me to blog about my annual upcoming trip to D*Con. Unfortunately, I’m not going to D*Con this year. The plan was that we were going to have another baby, so travelling to Atlanta for five days in August didn’t fit into that plan. Then the plan changed, but it was already too late to make arrangements for D*Con. I was a little disappointed at first, but as the date approaches, I find that I’m more than just a little disappointed. I want to go.

As many of you know, I don’t get out much. For the past three years, I’ve thought of D*Con as my getting out. And I don’t really have any friends outside of the little group that goes to D*Con. That probably sounds really sad, but it works out well for me. I get to have friends once a year without all those other obligations you have when friends live nearby. Yeah, I’m not a great friend. But once a year? I can handle that.

So I’ll probably mope around and neglect all the things I need to do for the next two weeks because I feel so blah, because August is always a bad month for me, and I can’t go to D*Con, and I’m a bad mother, and my room’s a mess, and and and…

“Dear EMU Student,

Blah, blah, blah… we have determined that we can no longer afford to accept credit cards for payment on student accounts. Blah, blah, blah… third party… fee of 2.75%. Blah, blah, blah… Visa cards will not be accepted…”

I wonder how well businesses would fare if they did this sort of thing. I’m thinking not well at all.

I also find this part amusing.

“I believe the decision to stop accepting credit cards at EMU is a necessary step in holding down the cost of education. The exact tuition rates for Fall 2005 have not yet been determined…”

The funny thing about that is that I’ve already been billed for Fall 2005 at the NEW TUITION RATES. I’ve also received a letter from the president of EMU detailing the 13.5% tuition increase that has already been implemented.

Has anyone else found their school to be managed as poorly as mine?

It happens about this time every year. I feel a bit blah for no reason whatsoever. Maybe it’s seasonal, or maybe it has to do with going back to school. I dunno, but I don’t feel like doing much. As long as I’m busy, things seem to go pretty well. Installing the floor helped. But since then, I’ve done nothing. And I don’t really feel like doing anything. I’m not really even looking forward to school yet.

I know that in a few weeks I’ll be back to school wishing for a few moments to do nothing.

I hate credit cards. Shortly before the boys were born, we decided to get rid of all our credit cards, and close the accounts. With the exception of our mortgage, my car, my student loans, and some loans from our parents, the rule has been “if we can’t afford to buy it with cash, we can’t afford to buy it.” That is, until Tuesday.

When we bought this house, my first complaint was the neutral decor. Specifically, the builder beige carpeting. We knew then that we would tear out the carpeting in the living room and dining room and replace it with wood laminate floors eventually. “Eventually” came on Tuesday, as did the end of our seven year freedom from credit cards.

The no payments, no interest for six months plan from Home Depot seemed the smart way to go. Two days, many sore muscles, and $800 later, we have a carpet-free lower level. The only thing more satisfying than having new floors, is being able to say that I installed them myself. Rob tore out the old carpeting and moved the furniture. He also did clean-up and will be responsible for having the carpet pieces hauled away. But the installation? I did it. Measuring, cutting, installing? Me. You may be able to see in the pictures that I haven’t yet installed the quarter-round moulding around the baseboards. That’ll be pretty simple though.

Living room, sans area rug (which seriously needs to be professionally cleaned!)

Dining room, sans normal clutter.

I finally finished the first bridal necklace from a few weeks back. I’m still not 100% satisfied with the way the photos are turning out, but I’m getting closer to what I want. I’ve been calling this one “Winter Lace.” I was hesitant to use the winter theme, but I think it fits.

The second bridal necklace would have been finished yesterday except there was a weird bead mixed in my bunch that shouldn’t have been there. Once I replace that last bead, it’ll just take a minute or two to complete the second necklace. I’m not sure I like it. I’m thinking there are too many crystals, but I need to think about it some more.

The boys go back to camp next week. Yay! I have some new supplies coming soon, so I’ll have at least one new project to work on while they’re gone. I may even try to finish the book I started reading during their first week at camp. Since they’ve been home, I just haven’t found time to pick it up.