Fun Times

Last week I faced my fears.  I accompanied some friends and went to the local Snake Farm.  I went there are few years ago with Steve, and thought it was cool.  I can handle snakes if they're in a terranium, locked securely in a cage.  And this place is no joke.  They have some of the top poisonous snakes there.  They also have a pit, located (strangely enough) in the bookstore.  Now, in my mind, this pit contains hundreds of snakes, all slithering on top of one another, much like scenes from an "Indiana Jones" movie. 

Yeah, about like this.


In reality, it's this.

Yeah, a few rattlesnakes.  Scary, yes, but not the pit of fear that I remembered from a mere two years ago.  Oops.

Anyway, the kids loved it.  Here are some shots.

Lily was on my hip in the sling the whole time, but yes, she was there.

I'll say it-- ouch.

Passions

Does anyone remember the soap opera "Passions"?  I don't remember too much about it, but there was a witch with a talking "doll" named Timmy.  And lots of horrendous acting. 

My best friend Val and I used to watch it during the summer of 2000, then call each other and talk about it.  What a great way to spend the summer between high school and college, the summer before we became, for all intents and purposes, "adults."

But as awesomely bad as that show was, it's not what this post is really about.

I think I've found my passion. 

When I graduated from college back in 2004, I thought I would take a year or two off to work, then go back to grad school.  Instead, I took seven.  I waited tables, worked with medically fragile/abused children, moved to a different state, taught teen moms life and parenting skills, got married and had a couple of kids of my own.  I knew I wanted to go back eventually, but I didn't know for what.  Nursing?  Teaching?  Social work? 

I started grad school this past week, for my master's in counseling.  And I LOVE it.  The classes are 6-10 pm, two nights a week.  And while I wondered if I could stay up past my usual bedtime of 10:00, I've found that it's really not a problem.  I'm so interested in the material that I'm wide awake.  I love the reading (well, some of it is a little dry-- I'm just not a theories girl!), and I love the material.  I'm reminded of the history and anthropology/sociology classes from back in undergrad.  I was fascinated by what I was learning, and had a great time with it.  That was my passion at the time, though I had no idea what to do with it. 

And now I've found it.  And I'm so excited.

Watch out, y'all. It's a thought-provoking post.

So awhile back I posted about being pregnant again.  We are very happy (though must admit, the weekend after we found out was one of complete shock).  This was a surprise pregnancy.  Lily is only 10 months old, and she and this one (please let it be just one) will only be 17 months apart.  I freak out about that on a regular basis, until I remember the woman at the kid salon that I spoke to a couple of weeks ago who had her two boys 11 months apart. 

I have to admit feeling a little guilt about being pregnant again.  I know that I am extremely lucky not to have problems getting pregnant, and my pregnancies are usually worry-free.  But with friends who are currently going through infertility, or who are having babies with medical problems, the fact that I am again "with child" makes me not want to shout the news from the rooftops.  I don't want anyone to feel like I am rubbing it in their faces. 

I don't know where I'm going with this post.  I just want to say that I promise that I'm not trying to brag about being pregnant again, and I don't want anyone to feel that way.  I just wanted to put it out there with my pregnancy post, in case I happen to mention something about "Holy crap, apparently I'm having twins" or in 7 (8? 6?  Hell, I don't know) months some new kid suddenly appears in pictures and people wonder "Wait a minute, did she steal a kid?"


And OK, I also didn't want people to see any upcoming pictures on here and think "Wow, Lindsay is really packing on the pounds."

An interesting encounter in the produce section

The kids and I ran to Sprouts (formerly Sun Harvest, a small local grocery chain) for some odds and ends. 

Note to self: NEVER go on double-ad Wednesday.  It is packed.  And it's a tiny store.

Ty was dancing along to the music, and caught the eye of an elderly lady.  She came over to clap for him, and remarked on how beautiful the kids were.  I thanked her profusely.  She said I must have married someone very good-looking to have produced such beautiful children.  Then she asked if I was an actress or a model.

You, lady, are now my favorite person ever.

I have never been mistaken for any sort of actress, though people used to tell me that I looked like Kelly Clarkson back in the day (I never saw it).  I did, however, resemble one spunky character as a child.

That would be Ms. Punky Brewster.  Seriously, give her blue eyes and that was me as a kid.  Of course, she and I no longer look alike.

Yeah, not me.

Needless to say, I was extremely flattered, and told her as much.  It's always nice to hear that you look good when you're shopping with two kids and wearing cutoffs, flip flops and a t-shirt, and you need a haircut.

The lady again complimented Lily, and remarked to me that we should keep an eye on her when she gets older, because, and I quote, "Black men love pretty girls."

I swear I'm not making this up. 

From compliment to racism in 5 seconds.  Ahhh, Texas.