Alternative Playground Equipment

Today Havoc was trying to explain the rules of some game to me. The game involves two guys on a tater totter. :D I wish I hadn't laughed because then I had to explain that it's really called a teeter totter. Gone are the days of "calipippers", "belbows", and "Mommy, can I sit by next to you?" I miss the childish slips and word confusions - except, of course, when Chaos does them. What is still cute at 8 isn't remotely cute at almost 15. Which is good, really.

In other news - we are definitely moving. The job offer from the world's most perfect company offering to pay Sweet Hubby the world's most perfect salary for doing the thing he most wants to do hasn't quite been extended yet - but we're moving anyway. I believe with all my heart the job will come through. Jobs here are not coming through - except for ones that are steps backwards on the professional path. Even a lateral move to a job in our new City of Choice is preferable to backpedaling here. I think this horrendous experience has been a jolt. We've made compromises for security and now that security has been ripped away. It's scary. Definitely that. But also energizing and exciting to think of the possibilites. Now that we've given up on here, it's been wonderful to think of choosing a new community. The community we've picked is great - the schools are doing cool things - and we have some friends and a few family members there already.

Mr. Tapioca Head is not only being accepting - but he's being encouraging. In fact, today he talked with me about when to tell the kids even knowing the job offer is not nailed down yet. He advocated for sooner rather than later - although we both agreed that it's either soon (like the next few days!) or we wait until after the kids get out of school (May 24th.) There are cases to be made for both scenarios. If we tell them now, then they have a few weeks to adjust to the idea before exams and they get to spend this time with their friends. It's all moving fast - but it needs to.

***Interrupted and now I have to add:
We've decided to tell the children TONIGHT that we're moving.
***
Wish us luck?
Peace.

Stellar

I went to pick up my best girl at the airport on Friday night and while waiting, guess who I saw? A famous blogger!!!!! She's been training for a marathon - a real one - like TWICE what I did. She's been so inspirational to me as I try to get back to my training. She has kids - a son about the same age as my Mayhem and a toddler. She writes; she's plugged into pop culture - I have no idea how she does it all. And I saw her in real life! I immediately wanted to say hi - and then I panicked. Is it ok to say hi because you recognize someone from the computer? Is that considered stalking? Would it freak me out if someone did it to me? (Well, yes, probably - but I'm easily freaked out. I squealed the first time my IM pinged even though I knew it was someone I knew.) I sat and thought about it for a few minutes. Is there a class on this somewhere? Blogging Ethics 101? I had to figure it out on the fly.

No one would want to be tracked down by what they've said, but being recognized isn't at all the same thing, is it? She'd told the world she'd be in Nashville for the race and it's definitely part of the ethos of the Country Music Marathon that strangers are rooting for you. If you have your name on your shirt, people you do not know will call out your name. Even if you don't have your name visible anywhere, people will yell out "Good Luck" as you pass. I was just a day early. I decided I'd regret it if I didn't say hello, wish her luck in the race, and tell her I loved her blog. I was halfway across the space between us before I realized she might not actually be who I thought she was! Too late - she and her son and her dad (I assumed) were looking at me. I said I was sorry to interrupt and just barge over - and it might be a weird question - but did she, by chance, blog. She smiled and said yes. I asked, "Miss Zoot?" and she nodded. I think I gushed a bit then - and told her I wished her the very best luck in the race and I knew she'd do well and then I scurried away forgetting to tell her how much I liked her blog as a whole. Oh well. Probably better to have said too little than too much, eh? When VBGF got off the plane, we passed Miss Zoot and I waved and smiled. She smiled back at us - so I knew it was really ok to have said hi. ***And? Miss Zoot finished her marathon yesterday! What an accomplishment - do you realize how freakin' long 26.2 miles is??? Yay Zoot!***

And then I saw another star! The reason VBGF flew in was to see Loreena McKennit at the Ryman Auditorium. If you have not been to the Ryman, then you cannot believe what you are missing. It is such an intimate venue - with history that just soaks into you as you sit on the church pew seats. It was perfect for Loreena McKennit's music. Her voice was powerful and rich, ethereal and electric. Her presence was inviting and overwhelming at the same time. It is without a doubt the most amazing concert I have ever seen. (<--And that is saying a lot because I have seen Etta James and Celine Dion recently.) Loreena McKennit is an amazing woman. I think she won my heart when I found out years ago that she keeps her journals in both French and English and that she travels around the world for her musical inspiration. She spoke about her creative process for a few of the songs she played. It was mesmerizing. She infuses her music with an appreciation of the cultures she's studied; she has a genuine respect for the musicians that surround her; and she has a way of inviting her audience into her musical process and performance. There are instruments in her show that I have not only never seen (like the Hurdy-Gurdy), but there were some that I have never even heard of. Do you know what an "Oud" is? Or a "Celtic Bouzouki"? Then there is her voice. Her awe-inspiring voice. The range and depth of her voice are simply astounding. I kept having to remind myself that all of that haunting, soul-grabbing sound was pouring out of a live woman right in front of me. I very nearly chucked everything to become a Loreena McKennit groupie right then and there.

We were not prepared for the night to be over - even after the third encore. The Ryman security folks finally shooed us out. We wandered back to the car and ended up driving to East Nashville to sit in a smoky bar and hear some more live music. I think we finally got home around 2. (Sweet Hubby was still up playing his PS3 to de-stress from the job search.) We talked and then had to shower to get all the icky smoke off of us. I think I finally fell asleep around 4. I meant to blog all this last night, but I fell asleep at 6 pm and slept for 13 hours!!!! I am SUCH a party animal. I stay out late one night and have to pay for it immediately. Oh well. It was beyond "worth it" and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Hope everyone else had a great weekend!
Peace.

They Shave?

On his way out to the school bus this morning, Havoc said to me, "If you see a Lego guy who looks like he hasn't shaved in a while, will you put him on my ship?"

Uh. Ok.
Peace.

Ooops!

There was a parent meeting for World Studies which is an honors symposium Chaos wants to take next year. The meeting started at 7 in the cafeteria. I was there in plenty of time. Twenty minutes early. The lights were off and there were no other parents there. Even at 5 of 7 there was no one else there. I knew I had the date right. VBGF was on the phone with me as I wandered around trying to find a way into the school. At 7:01 she said, "Are you at the high school?"

DOH!

High school! The meeting is at the high school were my son will be a high school student next year! My brain did know that. (I'd even called the right school to find out what room the meeting would be in!) I thought I had a handle on letting my kid grow up but clearly there is at least a small part of me that is not quite ready to make that transition to being the mother of a high schooler!

Peace.

Whose Tooth Is It Anyway?

I don't remember if I've mentioned what a Lame-O we have for a tooth fairy. But she sucks. I think she has remembered to claim a tooth on the first night it was offered once per kid. Maybe. If you combine all five of the kids, the total number of lost teeth is approximately 2,076. That is a lot of disappointment. It is also a butt load of money since the tooth fairy - out of overwhelming guilt - pays entirely too much per tooth when she finally gets around to checking the silver cannister. (Sidenote: instead of tucking the tooth in toilet paper and burying it under the pillow, our household subscribes to the concept of putting the tooth in a cute little silver container and sticking on the bedside table after calling three times "Tooth Fairy, Tooth Fairy ________ has lost a tooth!" This method has its advantages - namely, the box was a baby shower gift and is quite lovely and it can be placed outside the door instead of beside the bed for children who think it's "creepy" to have someone lurking around their room even for the purpose of leaving money. The drawbacks, however, are not insignificant. Said tiny cannister is easy to lose in between teeth and doesn't hold more than three teeth at a time. Ask me how I know this. Also, is not remotely big enough to hold coins. Conveniently, it is the perfect size for rolled up bills.)

There are some positive things to be said for a household with a completely dysfunctional tooth fairy. The kids have become flexible about the pomp and circumstance surrounding the losing of the teeth. The children knew immediately without even a moment's worry that the tooth fairy would be forgiving of the lack of actual tooth in the cannister. Not being able to recover teeth from the drain or from the river while on vacation - these are circumstances the the tooth fairy can understand as she clearly has obstacles that often prevent her from meeting her end of the standard tooth=money contract. My children know about diversity and equality. Broken shards of teeth are as acceptable as run of the mill whole teeth. And all teeth, be they first teeth, molars, or child fangs, are equally likely to be languishing in the cannister. The kids have also learned the art of delayed gratification and gained an understanding of compound interest. They have even been made aware of the American business tradition of Christmas bonuses in the form of packages under the tree labeled "From TTF".

So maybe all of that explains why my children are not normal about teeth. Or maybe not.

Today, along with the list of chore assignments that I leave for the kids each afternoon, I left a baggie with a tooth in it that I found while cleaning out one of those spots that seems to accumualte random and somewhat horrifying detritus. This was a first for us - the tooth hadn't even made it to the cannister before it had been forgotten. Ay yi yi! The caption on my note said, "Whose tooth is this?"

When I came into the kitchen, I discovered them trying to fit it back into their mouths to determine whose tooth it might be!!! They hadn't taken it out of the baggie, which makes it oh so not much better. What did they think - this was like Cinderella's slipper?!! They finally decided it was Mayhem's - but, as I overheard some bargaining between Chaos and Mayhem about who owed whom $ for something or other, I don't know if I totally trust that.

****Please Pardon The Interruption*****
As I was typing along about how odd my children can be about teeth, I heard some serious commotion from the other end of the house. The Princessa was laughing, Chaos was saying, "Arg. Eh. Gr!", and Mayhem was howling (but with what sounded like laughter, not pain.) I finally went to fuss at them and chase them back to their chores but was stopped in my tracks at the sight of Mayhem. He was standing, red-faced, in the hall with water dripping out of his hair and into his eyes. Chaos was laughing his a** off. I asked what was going on and Mayhem said, "Chaos gave me a swirlie!!"
A SWIRLIE??
"No way!!! Chaos, tell me you did NOT put your brother's head in a toilet!! Mayhem, did he?!! He wouldn't have!" I am nearly choking as I'm trying to speak. The thought is horrifying but Mayhem's face is comic. I cannot help laughing even though I'm on the verge of being seriously pissed and worried as hell about my son. It is like laughing when someone is tickling you even though that is the very LAST thing you think is funny. Thankfully the kids all completely busted out laughing and assured me they would never, ever, ever in a million years do something mean like that to anyone for any reason. They also sort of apologized for pulling such a prank on me but I think they knew they had caught me on a good day and had stayed *just barely* inside of my tolerance for hijinks.
*****
I have no idea how I was going to close the tooth fairy post. I can only sit here and wonder if my children are even near the realm of normalcy. They are congenial, and bright, and caring (for the most part!) - but their weirdness factor can be off the charts. That's normal, right?!
Peace.

Why Not 33?

My mother told me last night that I would like her new customer Rosemary. She said that Rosemary asked a question that she knew I would have asked.

Mom told me Rosemary works for the mayor's office in the small town next to ours. They fielded many, many calls about when and how to ring the bells to remember those lost in the Virginia Tech tragedy. I'm not sure I understand if the conversation took place in my mother's shop or in the mayor's office itself, but the way my mom told me the story, she said they were going to ring the bells 32 times and I immediately interrupted to ask, "Why not 33?" Mom hugged me and said, "That's why you'd like Rosemary. That's the question she had." Rosemary was the only one in a room full of people to ask that question.

As a matter of fact, not only was she the only one to question the number 32, but everyone else was aghast that she did. Angry. How is it that I ended up in a community that can't see the gunman as a victim? How can they not remember him? I'm not advocating that he should be "honored" for what he did - but I certainly believe he should be remembered and numbered among those who were lost. He was lost from his family. He was lost from his community. He was certainly lost from himself to do what he did. How can the uber-Christians that surround me not get that?! How can they not pray for his tormented soul? Why can't their compassion extend to his family? I cannot imagine that family's loss! How would you even start to cope with the sadness and anger of losing your son to suicide, much less the horror of knowing that your son, in his pain and anguish, murdered 32 innocent people?

I didn't think I could get sadder about the events at Virginia Tech until I heard how outraged my neighbors were to be asked, "Why not 33?"
Peace. For everyone - I wish for peace.

Never Wear Paisley To An Interview

I don't know why. Sweet Hubby said you just don't wear a paisley tie to an interview. Huh. Ok. (Pretty sure I never have.) Anyone know why this is so? Does it indicate that you are too carefree? Too 80's? What?

We are off to celebrate our anniversary weekend with job and house hunting! Yay! Nothing says I still love as much as I did all those years ago as a huge bouquet of STRESS! Only sort of kidding. I do like the dreaming that goes with house hunting (whose room would this be, oh - the Piranesi would look great over the mantlepiece, look at the light! etc) and I'll be home on Sunday before Sweet Hubby starts with the interviews on Monday morning. He's got two confirmed interviews and one other possible one. NOT BAD for a week's worth of job hunting, I think!

It is supposed to be gorgeous - sunny and in the 70's all weekend. How perfect is that? Can you tell I am very much trying to distract myself from the darkside of all this - like OH MY GOD I HAVE TO GET MY HOUSE READY TO PUT ON THE MARKET!) Hope all you lovely internets have a lovely weekend too!
Peace.

In Medias Res

Tonight Havoc got on the phone with his dad. (I usually shoo the kids into their bedroom to talk to their dad so they have some quiet and protected talk space - but tonight the kids were everywhere with friends over and I was trying to get them fed and make sure they talked to their dad before game. Shooing Havoc out of the family room was low on my priority list as I was trying to make supper.) Anyway I hear Havoc's end of the conversation and I can picture my ex's puzzled facial expression throughout the whole thing.

Clearly dad asked something along the lines of "What did you do today?"
What I hear Havoc say (even though I know differently) is, "I made my first nude sculpture for dinner tonight and..."
Pause.
"Food. You know, food?"
Pause.
"Food sculpture. To eat. I got to eat my invention for dinner and..."
Pause.
"What kind of invention? A food invention with a face. The kind you eat and we stuck the eyes.."
Pause.
"It was a head. You know, with a face? We cut out the eyes. Only the knife was sharp so I ...."
Pause.
"A head." Pause. "No, mom was there. And we used fruit snacks for the pupils and toothpicks and cut a mouth and..."
Pause.
"An apple. We started with an apple, dad. I wanted to do something fun for dinner so I made a face on an apple with other fruit and fruit snacks and I named him Bob. Anyway, the Yogos hair fell on the floor when we tried to show..."

A starting point! We (finally) find the starting point for his story! You'd think he'd begin to understand that people need a leetle bit of background before the barrage of details, but Havoc is continually perplexed as to why people don't understand what he's talking about.
Peace.

Cannot Speak

I don't have the words to express how I feel about the tragedy at Virginia Tech.
I don't know what I think (or rather I do - but I don't feel like talking about the need for gun control or the funding for mental health services.)
I am so very, very sorry for the families (including the gunman's) who are grieving so deeply.
Peace.

Quiet Commotion

We've had quite the emotion commotion this week. The job market is not exciting here and it looks like we really may move. Out of state. Like pack up all the kids, sell the house and schlep a bit east.

It is exciting. And scary. And energizing. And paralyzing.

The conversation with Mr. Tapioca Head about the possibility of taking the boys out of state went well. Really well. Surprisingly well. (Which, of course, scares the crud out of me waiting for the other shoe to drop - but I'm not going to borrow trouble from tomorrow by dwelling on it.) He understands the professional situation here (having had something like 5 jobs in 6 years) and he was realistic about the fact that he could delay us or make it harder but that it was unlikely he could legally prevent it. He doesn't want to be away from his kids (which makes sense to me - I don't want to be away from them either!) so depending on what the actual offers are, he's going to try to work with me. Truly I couldn't possibly have asked for anything more.

I'm ready for the fantastic job offers from points eastward to start rolling in. (Universe, are you listening?) I'm cleaning the house like a fiend (OH MY GOD I HAVE TO HAVE MY HOUSE READY TO PUT ON THE MARKET!) and I'm trying to keep the energy level on as even a keel as possible. For many, many reasons we're not telling the kids any time soon. Firstly, we have to have a much more concrete plan (starting with a signed offer - a fantastic in all ways kind of signed offer - oh universe, do you hear me?) And also? The kids have their end of the year, standardized state exams this week. This. Week.

I've decided that my new affirmation is "I continue to make good and healthy choices during times of stress. I easily navigate flux and change. I have fun." That sounds good doesn't it? The dog likes it. I say my affirmations outloud while I sit on the floor and stretch. He tries to lick my face each time I start talking. It's sweet in a distracting way. I laugh but haven't figured out how to shoo him without feeling like I'm shooing away all the goodness I'm trying so hard to attract! This talking to the universe can be very tricky!
Peace.

A House Full Of Farmers

Farming has become an unexpected recent topic of conversation here.
Chaos wanted to take "Introduction to Agriculture" as one of his electives next year. ??
Now, I have nothing AT ALL against farmers or farming. Without farmers I would be in sorry shape. After all, I very much like to eat but I would be a poor farmer. Plants do not thrive in my care and I would have a hard time raising animals knowing that later they would be slabs o'protein on my plate. I am ever so grateful to farmers for the fact that I can get my food from the market.

My son (having inherited my winning way with plants) is not what I would consider prime Future Farmers of America material. Add that to the the fact that he's never once shown the slightest interest in any form of agriculture before. Ever. He was not even one of those little boys who liked tractors and backhoes.
I had to ask, "Why the sudden interest in Ag 101?"
His answer? "You know that book, A Hymn Before Battle?"
(If you clicked on the link you will understand my hesitation as I nodded my head yes. I try to read everything my kids read - and as that one is sci-fi (which I love) - it was not a chore. There is, however, NO FARMING in that book.) "And?" I prompted.
"The grandfather, you know, Mighty Mike's father? He had a farm. I think it would be cool."
Ahhhhhh. The grandfather in question was Vietnam era covert ops specialist who had retired to a "farm" that he had stocked with all sorts of traps and weapons which conveniently help to stop the alien invasion. "Chaos - that is NOT farming. And it is not REMOTELY what they will teach you in Ag 101. I promise. Go ahead and sign up for Keyboarding and Wellness this year and if you absolutely can't live without taking farming in high school, you can sign up for it next year."

Case closed. Or so I thought. Then Havoc (the 8 year old) started talking to me about farming. And just so you know - Havoc's MO is to start a conversation in the middle. Assuming you know what he's talking about, he just jumps right in giving you all the details long before he gives you a beginning point or even a topic sentence. Sometimes, if you hang in there, you can sort it out and join in intelligently but more often than not, you have to wait for an opening and ask questions like, "What the heck are you talking about?" This was one of the latter instances.

He "started" by asking me, "Whatever happened to that water buffalo we gave Nurse Nice for Christmas?" (Hie thee hither to Heifer International if you've never given someone a water buffalo for Christmas.) I explained that we'd given a donation in her name towards the purchse of a water buffalo for a village overseas. Havoc was VERY RELIEVED. Then he was off and running about farming. At least I thought he was talking about farming. Thankfully his idea of farming seemed to include barns, livestock, drought and irrigation, and even crops. As a bonus, he knew that crops were plants like wheat and corn and cotton - unlike a certain one of my children (you'll never guess which one) who used to think crops had only to do with mysterious circles and aliens. But Havoc kept talking about "third" farming and then he started yammering on about gold and tourists and having to slaughter all of his chickens. Yeah. Ok. "Havoc, start at the beginning please!"

Turns out he was playing** this very cool game online called "Third World Farmer". Third World Farmer is a remarkable and interesting simulation game. As the name might suggest, the object is to be successful as a farmer facing the obstacles and hardships common in developing nations. Medicine and school are expensive but your chances are slim to none without them. Poachers and civil war and disease zap you when you can least afford it. Plentiful seasons are sporadic and a well can mean the difference between life and death for your livestock. There are interesting ethical decisions - like should you lease a few of your acres for opium poppies which would pay for the medicine needed to save your character's life -or your character's baby's life! One of the options for your down-and-out farmers sometimes is to perform in a "tribal" show for tourists. The conversations this game has provoked in my household! My son's compassion has shifted and grown as a direct result of this game.
He confided to me that he was glad we had given our friend part of a water buffalo, but he had been worried that it was going to waste. He didn't think that she needed it nearly as much as some people in the world did. Now that he understands the whole story, he's on fire to give everyone we know water buffaloes this year.
Just wait 'til I tell him you can give llamas and honeybees too!
Peace.

**Same with the books - I try to play the games my kids are playing - and they usually have to ask permission to play new ones, but this time Havoc caught me off guard. He learned about this game from the teacher of his gifted class and had assumed it would be ok with me for him to play it during his turn at the computer. He was right in all that. Still, the slaughtering chickens thing threw me for a loop. Kids these days!

He's Cute And All, But Yikes!

We took Chaos out one afternoon recently to celebrate his being registered for all honors classes next year. After getting a fun and unexpected snack out with us, he decided to give Mayhem the bag of Doritos he'd been hoarding. (Apparently Mayhem had loaned him headphones when Chaos lost his or some such good turn.) Chaos walked up to Mayhem, handed him the coveted bag of chips and said, "Hey, thanks for the headphones, man. Here's some condensation."
"Condensation?! You mean 'compensation'?!!" I asked. (Sweet Hubby was busy choking and spluttering - caught between laughter and horror.)
Chaos' standard response? "Yeah. Whatever. Mayhem knows what I meant." (Mayhem was, by this time, in the other room already chowing on the chips.)

I don't see a bright future for my son in Human Resources if he goes around handing out condensation packages, do you? Wouldn't you worry if this were your child?

Peace.

Behold!

I love the word "behold". It is commanding. And sassy. There is a Bible verse from Isaiah (the exact chapter/verse are tattooed on the back of my friend St. Ann's neck but I still don't remember the numbers) that says, "Behold, I am doing a new thing!" (In spite of the fact that I could probably find it with two minutes of internet research, I'm not going to link to it - because I am Ms. Distracto on an adrenaline high today and those two minutes could easily become two hours. I would get sucked into the internet and NEVER finish this blog post.)
The point is "Behold!" And "I'm doing a new thing!"
It's like "Stand back!" And "Something's happening here!"
Recently I created and have been saying some affirmations about change and strength and newness.
Guess what happened? NEW THINGS!
The problem is, they're not exactly the new things I was going for.

• *Like VBGF moving here - which is a new thing I totally wanted to happen but which turned instead into a new job for her back there - which is great but unexpected. Her principal, in an effort to keep her on staff, offered her the job she's always wanted - teaching Algebra I and Geometry. Not only that, but she'd "move up" with the class she's teaching now - and they are the best class she's ever had. Not only that, but she'd also get to leave behind a co-worker that has made life miserable for years and she'd get a chance to publish some of the work she's been doing this year and present it at next year's state math conference. How fun is it to have your best friend offered a job so great on all levels that she can't pass it up?!!! Behold!
  
• *Like Mr. Tapioca Head and child support issues - which, if you've read this blog at all, you realize is nothing new but which I decided to let go of completely from the outset. That's new. Usually I hold on, dig my heels in, and show how right I am. Letting go before I've even had my say is not fun. It's not great for my kids not to get $$ that should be providing for them - but it's a one-time thing and letting go of this wrangle is WAY less stressful (for all of us) than an audit of my bank statements and his for the past six years. And oh yeah, the state seems to think that we've only been divorced for one year. Hmmm - since he got remarried in 2003 and I got remarried in 2004 - that would make us both bigamists. That would be new - but, again, not what I was going for. (Can a woman be a bigamist? I know there's polyandry and there's polygamy - but does bigamy cover both? Hmmmm. I'd look that up too if not for the distracto factor again.)
  
• *Like Sweet Hubby's company imploding during an internal board battle. It pretty much sucks to be affiliated with the CEO who's losing the battle. The board hired a "turnaround specialist" to "save the company" - but as it's a new company on the (provable) verge of success - the whole thing is crazy. The "consultant" they hired first suggested firing two employees to save money. If you combine both of their annual salaries, it doesn't equal what the board is paying this consultant - not to mention the fact that there was no suggestion as to who would do the job these two people currently do. As it's a company of about 15 folks - losing two - any two would probably be hard - but these two are absolutely required to launch the product. Mr. Consultant then suggested that he, himself, be given a seat on the board. His next suggestion was that the CEO be replaced. His idea of a replacement? Himself. Two years this team has been working together - heart and soul poured into this company. Sweet Hubby shepherded the product through the FDA approval process under budget and in record time - a full six weeks earlier than the best guess first estimate of when it would be possible - and yet? The board wants to shatter the team and "save" the company. It is a whole lot like setting a house on fire and then getting an award for being the first on the scene and putting it out. Never mind the collateral damage and the destruction of irreplaceable photos - he saved the house!!
  Bite me. That's how I feel about it.
  
• *Like going from having a contractor out next week to give us an estimate and schedule us for some remodeling to thinking, perhaps, we might have to move! Eeeek.
  

New jobs, new plans, new budgets - possibly new home and new schools?! I feel like a monkey who was swinging merrily from limb to limb (carefully not looking down at the alligators in the river below) who suddenly realizes the limb he thought was next is nowhere to be seen. And here I am swinging back and forth, back and forth - looking desperately for a new branch - maybe a new tree (and still carefully avoiding noticing those alligators!) It's possible that all these new things would have come about even if I hadn't started saying affirmations, but just the same, I think I'm going to reword what I say each morning - just a bit.

So... How was your Spring Break?