Together Again...

A little sentimental post for my girls from Tiger Town...

This time next week, Kel will be back in town! Do you guys realize that this is the FIRST time since her wedding -- which was right after graduation -- that we'll all be living in the same area, much less the same state! It doesn't seem like we've been gone that long, but it'll be EIGHT years in May...

Let's take a stroll down Al's Memory Lane...

Last night, I was driving to a holiday open house at a great little boutique in Clemson called Riverhurst Shops.

Ok, stop there. First of all, I was going to an open house -- and a holiday open house at that. Next stop -- retirement village.

Second, when did I start shopping at boutiques?!? Ahhh... what I wouldn't give for the days when Toad would put some money in my Tiger Stripe (or give me his Texaco card) and turn me loose!

Back to the story...

So, I'm driving my MINI-VAN in the pouring, frigid, Carolina-fall rain, and it's dark. My mom is in the front seat, Laney's in her carrier in the middle row, and my friend Shawn is wedged in the backseat.... which, by the way, is in a different zip code.

SIDEBAR -- the van is huge. For those who are laughing that I drive a van -- don't. I was the queen of "I'll never drive a mini-van." And I meant EVER. But more on this later...

So, we're driving through the edge of campus, and all of these perky little college kids are trudging around in their anoraks. I pull up to the intersection where the new student union stands, and I just about lost my breath.

Do you ever have those moments where a stab of nostalgia is almost painful? Like it brings tears to your eyes?

(No, Bess, I'm not trying to steal your novel name... :) )

It wasn't the exact location; I think it was more that I was on campus. All of those memories of us together during college just came tumbling back.

And I started thinking about those cold, nasty nights...

Last night, we would've been hunkered down in D-Square #1 in our flannel pj pants and long-sleeve t's, grubbing on pizza, watching THE Dawson's re-run for the 800th time, braving the cold every hour or so in our handy-dandy jackets or whatever GAP pullover we could find.

Somebody would've been dancing -- "I Will Survive," the Grease medley, an old shagging song...

Bess would've been calling Paul.

Susan would've been camped out in the chair, longing for the days of sunshine and bikinis.

I'd have been on my 3rd day with no sleep and twelve projects due the next day because, of course, Toad had signed me up for 39 hours in one semester.

Megan would've be playing DJ, telling stories about G-Vegas, and making us laugh.

Teri would've been putting on her contortionist show because "On My Own" would be playing on repeat on the TV.

Kel would've been responsible, completing her homework for the entire semester while still managing to be the life of the party.

And something funny would've happened.

Kelley would've asked a question like, "What's the Un-A-Bomber?" Bess might've told us a new chapter in the Pig-Nose saga. Megan and Teri might've recounted the First Week story. Susan could've embarrassed me in front of my current crush by rising from the recliner like a phoenix from the flames to make questionable slurs about the state of the apartment.

And we would've laughed... for hours... because that was what we did... in class, in the dorms, on the patio, in the den, driving to campus, walking, laying around, on the phone, in person...

That's what I remember most about college.

Us laughing.

And I love it. I love that we still laugh until we cry, that our beach trips and get-togethers are still as funny today as our jaunts downtown were then. I love that our kids are funny together and that our husbands think we're weird. I love that our emails make me laugh out loud, totally blowing my cover that I'm "typing a test" when I'm really emailing y'all during the day.

And so, in the warmth of my mini-van, I sent a silent shout-out to my girls because I miss you... and because I miss those days, even though I love my life now... but part of that is because y'all are still in it.

Here's to that fun trip this summer and sharing oxygen when we're 80 while we cheer our Tigers on to victory from the back porch of the nursing home...

Lord, somebody hide the lighter from Bess before she melts her fake nail and detonates the oxygen tank!

On top of it all...

I hate days when my pants don't fit. :(

I've got a million and two things to do, and I'm worried about the fact that my pants could be a bit too snug.

Boo.

Day 2

Argh.

Now I know what writer's block is.

It's really hard to find inspiration when you're looking for it.

I could write about my students (who are CRAZY right now, by the way. Fridays should definitely be banned from all school weeks!), but unless you teach or have a teenager, that probably wouldn't be funny.

I could write about my kids, but I don't want to give y'all the impression that we are just too cute for ourselves... although, you know I think my kids are pretty hilarious. Ethan is just full of himself, and Laney, with her big ol' toothless grin, just cracks herself up... which cracks all of us up.

Keith doesn't even read the blog, I'm pretty sure, so I could write about him, but he gets embarrassed when I talk about how hot he is in public. I'm sure the internet wouldn't be any different...

I wonder if my friends and family live in fear of being in THE BLOG?

Anyway, I do have a question. Does anyone else's kids watch Boobahs? I don't know how to format the picture here, so it's randomly attached to the top of this post. (Photo from: http://pbskids.org/boohbah/parentsteachers/parents.html) Laney is obsessed.

Now, how can a 5 month old be obsessed?

I thought the same thing when a friend of mine mentioned her wee one just LOVES Bear in the Big Blue House. Whatever. They drool and poop and eat and sleep. How can they "love" a tv show?!?!

Now I know it is possible. She wakes up at odd hours of the night -- but strangely, Boobahs is always on. All I have to do is put her in her swing, turn on Boobahs, and she's good. For hours. Until Boobahs goes off. At which point, she goes back to sleep.

I've tried to watch them, to share her passion, but they're weird. I imagine that if you were to take illegal hallucinogens, you'd see Boobahs. (Not that I ever have -- the Boobahs are enough to discourage that...) I go to sleep after watching them, and I have weird dreams about little brightly colored blobs running around speaking their own language.

They're suspiciously like the Teletubbies, which also freak me out. (Image from http://www.curvecomm.com/teletubbies/po.gif) Has anyone else noticed this?

Whatever...

I blew it.

I didn't even make it through the first day!

I realized yesterday afternoon that I needed to post something to my blog so I could try the blog-every-day-for-a-month thing.

And I forgot.

I thought about it last night at church.

And I forgot when I got home.

So, here. It's a post.

Stick it in your ear, whoever came up with this idea of blogging for a month. I guess stick it in my ear, too, since I'm so dang competitive and can't turn anything down...

Better late than never...

That's my life's motto. :) So, it's been over a month since I've posted anything. I think the point of blogging is to develop a readership while "expressing yourself." My theory so far is that it will be difficult to develop anything if I never post anything new... :) Just a guess...

On my favorite blog, www.whoorl.com, I saw a link to this thing with a gun... or maybe it was a target... anyway, when I clicked on it, it was a site promoting writing in your blog every day in November. I'm going to try it. You're supposed to register, but that would require commitment, and... well, I'm just not up for it. Maybe I'm really a man... :)

Here's to developing a readership, finding someone to format this blog so that it's nice and pretty like the other ones I read, and finding time to write every day in November... along with the 742.6 other things we have going on right now... :)

Speaking of....

The Jennings 4 are just coming off of the first two-kids-sick-at-the-same-time experience.

Not something I'd recommend to anyone, really.

Laney had an ear infection; Ethan had some sort of creeping respiratory crud.

And on top of that, we had the family reunion, homecoming at church, Trunk or Treat, and now Halloween.

Did I mention that I'm sick, too? And Keith's pretty non-sympathetic. Boo. I love him, and usually he is WONDERFUL in times of crisis, but apparently it's all sleepers for themselves at our house right now because he doesn't bother getting up.

Even when I'm dying.

Well, maybe he got up once or twice, but that's about it. Just like a man.

If I pretend I don't hear the screaming toddler/infant, she'll get up. I know she will. I just have to bear it a few more seconds... just a few more... zzzz....

He's not as clever as he thinks he is. Or maybe he is, since I am still getting up in the middle of the night. :P

So, I stayed out with the kids two days until I could no longer stand the idea that my school kids were running amuck and terrorizing the population of A-town AND both of the kids were feeling better.

And then I went back to school to get some rest... which only worked for the three minutes that I had before classes started because all 90 of my kids descended on me at once, asking a zillion questions.

I had to remind them about my personal space rule. It's not to be violated. Ever.

So we made it through the week with few other issues, except that Ethan is fascinated with taking medicine. The doctor prescribed medicine for him for his snot issues -- not a big deal. The kid's been on medicine since he was 6 months old for his allergies. Problem is apparently all medicines now taste good.

Where was this brainstorm when I was 4 and Dr. Haddock had me gagging on horse pills and choking down medicine that tasted like over-ripe bananas?!?!

So, he wants to take all medicine.

Even that which is not his.

Like his sister's.

Thank goodness for child-proof caps.

For the 956 times I can't get the fool things off to get the medicine out in the first place, they served their purpose this week. Of course, it'd also help if my beast of a three year old wasn't big enough to drag a heavy chair to the fridge and get to his sister's medicine while Mommy is putting away clothes upstairs.

Do they make refrigerator locks?

And can I get a maid so I don't have to put the clothes up in the first place???

Thank you, Lord, for blessin' me...

My sleeping beauties...
Please notice....
The only person not pictured here is ME!

But back to the title... Thank you, Lord, for blessin' me....

With a child that finally sleeps through the night! Whew! Who knew two kids could be SO different and yet look so much alike?

Princess Laney is finally sleeping during the adult night. And it is time, girl, IT IS TIME!! For a while there, she was sleeping 8 hours or so, except her "night" was from about 8 pm - 3 am. That's not "sleeping through the night" to me because I'm still getting up at a ridiculous hour. Her pediatrician and nurses were so pleased at her two month and then three month visits: "Oh, that's wonderful! We certainly count that as sleeping through the night!" Whatever. That's because she's not at your house. If she were, you'd look like me and know it doesn't count until you get to sleep through the night, too.

If nothing else, Keith, Ethan, and I are sleepers. We don't normally get up at 3 am for any reason unless some one is sick or a noise (like the dog yakking) wakes us up. Laney's arrival -- although wonderful -- has been a bit disruptive.

Well... maybe not so much for Ethan. Or really Keith for that matter. Ethan inherited his dad's ability to sleep... and really, it's more of a talent than an ability. Ethan started sleeping through the night at about 3 weeks (if I let him sleep in bed with us... which some people would argue makes me a bad mom... but I argue that me without sleep makes me a much worse mom) and then on his own at about 6 weeks. I thought all babies did this.

Apparently not.

And Keith... well... he's could be a world champion sleeper. In fact, when Ethan was a baby, Keith was napping straight through a tornado funnel cloud passing right over our top floor apartment. I hearded the baby and dogs into the bathroom as soon as the local weatherman posted the predicted path on the television and stocked up on possibly needed supplies: radio, flashlight, food, Diet Coke, formula, toys, cell phone... you know, the basics.

Keith was still snoozing away, oblivious to the possible destruction headed our way.

Oh, I'd told him to get up. I'd yelled and pushed and all but attacked him with a weapon, but he'd just grumble and roll over.

I finally got him to at least stumble into the bathroom and hold Ethan, but when I came back from checking the weather report on the tv (a few seconds later), he was dead asleep in the bathtub/shower, pillow behind his head, baby snuggled into the crook of his elbow. The end of life as we knew it was bearing down on us, and he couldn't even wake up to tell us all good-bye?!?! It's a sickness, I believe...

Anyway, Ethan is the only three-year old I know who has to be dragged out of bed (or persuaded to leave his warm covers with promises of Pop-Tarts or muffins) -- so he rarely hears Laney crying in the night. And we already know Keith doesn't hear her much (or pretends not to hear her, he once confessed in a weaker moment that will haunt him for the rest of his life)... at least until I deliver a well-calculated elbow jab to his unprotected ribs. Amazingly enough, that tends to bring him back to the land of the living immediately...

So, pretty much, it's been disruptive for me. It's that weird Mommy thing where you hear everything... every heavy breath, ever tiny cry, every wailing, earpiercing, bloodcurdling shriek... you know what I mean. There have been a couple of occasions where I really didn't hear anything (usually brought on by severe exhaustion from teaching, coaching, and mommying) and slept right through whatever tantrum she was throwing, forcing Keith to finally get up. (To his credit, he does get up with her much more now... even when I haven't lost complete consciousness.)

But that doesn't happen much... which means I don't get to sleep much.

And can I just state for the record: a mommy with little sleep is a time bomb.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

But her little three-month old cherubic self diffused the bomb!!! Two nights in a row -- 11 pm until at least 6 am. Praise God and Hallelujah! I feel like a new woman, and my skin looks like it belongs on a 29 (!) year old instead of a 60 year old smoker. My volleyball team even won it's second game last night, improving last year's record 100%!

Coincidence? I think not!

A first...

Ok, so this blogging thing is indeed more difficult than I thought... I've started this entry about five times, but never finish, so here we go again...

Football season is revving up here in Clemson country. We went to Fan Appreciation Day a couple of weeks ago, and I took this picture (of Keith, Ethan, and Laney) at the bottom of The Hill. I LOVE football season, and I don't care what anybody says -- nothing compares to game day at Clemson. I'm editing the original draft of this post because I originally wrote this tirade about my Tigers, but then I realized that this is a family blog, so...

Many schools do indeed have great traditions, but no tradition makes my heart stop like the sight of my Tigers rubbing The Rock, hearing that cannon's boom and the band playing our version of "Tiger Rag" like they'll never play it again, seeing the flags and balloons against that Carolina blue sky, and watching the players run down The Hill to the tiger paw on the 50. [Granted, I'm biased, but if you haven't seen it live -- if you haven't been there to hear the sounds of the fans and the band and the team, I don't expect any nasty comments because you can't understand until you've experienced it first-hand. :) ]

To be honest, this family almost wasn't. Keith -- my die-hard LSU boy didn't believe me either; we had our first fight when he disrespected my Tigers. As a sign of my undying love, I took him by the stadium one night on our way to Seneca -- I only share my Tigers with those I truly love, you see -- and he asked who Frank Howard was. Who's Frank Howard? Are you kidding me? If a man knows football, he should know Frank Howard, and I told him as much. Then, he dissed The Hill. I won't recount the conversation that followed, but let's leave it at this: He had two options -- he could apologize or he could get his irreverent arse out of my car. He stayed in, and he understood my passion when he experienced his first game at Death Valley.

Now that I've declared my allegiance to my team, I'll move on.

As for the game...

Keith and I decided to take the kids because 1) it was supposed to be sort of cloudy and a little cooler and 2) if we had to leave, it wouldn't be THE game of the season. Now, we've been to football games before, but they've all been high school games, AND (this is the kicker) Ethan's always had room to run and friends with whom to play. We didn't know how he'd do in a small space with a zillion of our closest friends that we don't know surrounding us, but we decided to batten down the hatches and go anyway. We dressed the kids in their orange finest -- Ethan in his miniature college guy CLEMSON t-shirt and cute little orange Crocs, Laney in her (12 months!) cheerleading uniform and tiny little KEDS. We grabbed some tailgating grub from Fatz and headed off to see our Tigers play.

Ok, so it seemed like a good idea at the time... :) Seriously, it wasn't bad. It was a little warmer than I anticipated... good thing we didn't do our die-hard tailgaters imitation and show up with two small kids at 9 AM for a 3:30 game... apparently those days may be long gone now, with the addition of Kid #2. We got there a little before 3 pm, only to find out that our lot was full. Boo. Moved to back-up lot and had to park on steep slope. Note to self: steep slope with mulch not ideal for playing with small children. Will find mulch in all sorts of odd places later when giving Ethan bath. Note #2 to self: Drive next time because Keith doesn't listen worth a darn and we could have been parked in a nice, lush grassy area if he did. :)

Once we got settled, we played around for a while... actually, I just got a new camera, so really I took pictures while Keith did the man thing and rearranged all of the "stuff" in the cargo area while simultaneously corraling the kids. (Payback for not listening when I told him where to park...) I got some cute ones that I'm posting here, too. (Laney in her uniform; Ethan; Ethan and his beloved cousin Emma whom he blames for the mess in his room even though she hasn't been over to play in quite some time, the 1/2-time show -- spelling out CLEMSON, in case you're wondering; Keith and the kids) Anyway, after a few fun-filled minutes of trying to coerce a very headstrong 3-year old to let me take his picture, we set off for the stadium.

If you know Clemson's parking situation, you'll be familiar with the hill going down to The Pit, or the big student parking area. If you've never experienced the hill, then you might remember the hill we called a driveway at our house in Knoxville; multiply that times a million. Anyway, Keith and I decided right then and there that we can have no more kids because we'd never be able to get any more bodies up that dadblame hill. I'll spare you the rest of the details of the trip in... mostly because it was all we could do to get to our seats without having to call for medical assistance.

The game itself was pretty uneventful. My dad and Emma were there, so Ethan was happy as a clam. He made friends with people we've been sitting around for years but have never really conversed with; I think he'll be a goodwill ambassador when he grows up. :) Laney cried when the Tigers got ready to run down The Hill -- I think the noise was too much -- but seemed to enjoy the rest of the game. Well, she at least enjoyed looking at the guy's shirt in front of us. Apparently (according to one of our new-found friend that sits next to us), babies can see shades of red and orange early on, so Laney probably had a sensory overload. The guy in front of us was wearing an orange striped shirt, which entertained her pretty much the whole time. High five to you, anonymous striped-shirt man... wherever you are...

The game was a blow-out, the kids were pretty good, and we didn't get ejected from our seats. A "WIN" so far in the Jennings' family scorebook...

And then it was time to tailgate. We opted for the post-game tailgate this time, since it would be a little more comfortable, weather-wise. We broke out the tables and the food... which kept sliding down the table since we were parked on the side of a small mountain. We ate. Ethan played. Laney kind of hung out in her carrier. We watched the crowds passing by (which is always lots of fun for me... people just crack me up). We packed up. We drove back to P-town. Woo-hoo. Much like the game... there was no exciting finish... just glad we didn't lose it in overtime...

The real fun started when I decided we need to run to the grocery store before heading home. Much to Keith's dismay, we went anyway. Now, remember, Keith is just returning to full-time daddy (and husband) duty from about 3 1/2 months on the road. :)

When I get back in the car, Laney is screaming like she's afraid someone won't hear her. Ethan is giving a play-by-play of something, but we can't figure out what. Keith is about to develop some serious nervous tics. I'm laughing inwardly, but I'm concerned that Keith may be ready to drive the car off of the road. As soon as I get in, Ethan starts on one of his favorite games -- "Where are we going?" Fun for everyone. As Laney continues to scream for no apparent reason, Ethan and I play the "Where are we going?" game. We start off in Timbuktu, but my geography skills aren't what they used to be, so we resort to going through the 50 states. (Sound fun to anyone else yet?) Ethan decides to kick the action up a notch and start yelling (I guess so he can hear himself over his screaming sibling), "WHERE ARE WE GOING?" to which I respond at the top of my lungs, "MASSACHUSSETTS!"... and thus the game game continues on a very loud level...

At the red light, during a convenient pause in all of the noise, Keith says, very quietly, "I think I have to go away on business..." :)

Till next time...

Testing, testing, 1-2-3...

nu=3238>:55>;5;>WSNRCG=32324;5784544nu0mrj.4.jpg">














Now, Clemson girls, I know you're laughing, but this is not that kind of blog. I started thinking that this could be fun. I am always shirking my adult responsibilities to write long, drawn-out emails to my friends, and this way, I can just write one AND my far-away friends and relatives can see pictures and keep up to date with the Jennings family. Not that most people want to read my ramblings, but it does give me something to do when I should be working...

So, here's the Jennings' family blog. Pretty much everybody who would read this knows that, in May, our family expanded to include Laney (hence the name Jennings4 -- because now there are 4 of us... kind of like the Jackson 5, except hopefully without Michael and all of the family drama and plastic surgery...). These are just some pictures of the young'uns. There's one of Ethan at Easter (looking a lot more calm than he really is), another of Laney after coming home from the hospital, and one of the three of us the first time Ethan held his baby sister. Once I find a current picture of my hot hubby, I'll put him on here, too.

Not much is really going on right now. Keith is almost finished with his work in Fayetteville; I'm so ready for him to come home! Volleyball season has started; our first tournament is coming up. I'm excited about the talent on my team, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that we can win more than one game this year. :) I'll get back to you on that one...

Ethan is kickin' it in 3K; I did get my first parent phone call last week. Ethan told his teacher, the asst. director, and the director of his daycare to be nice to him or his mommy would come spank them with a wooden spoon. Great... Apparently, my wee one is a bit of a sasser. Hard to imagine, I know... We had to have a little prayer meeting, but he hasn't gotten in trouble anymore. On a positive note, his training regimine has begun; with any luck, he'll be playing OL for Clemson in 15 years. We've learned the 3-point stance, how to block, and how to wrap up a tackle. He needs practice, of course, but he's dedicated to the program! :)

Laney is quite the princess -- very cute but very demanding. When she gets upset, she strongly resembles her Papa Toad -- short, squatty, and red-faced. :) Ethan loves her, but I think she is disturbed by him. He has no sense of personal space, so he's constantly talking (loudly, I might add) right into her little face. They're hard to describe, but the looks she gives him are hilarious. At first, she looked scared, but now she just looks put out, like "Why is this big-noggined kid in my face again?!?" She'll be three months old on Thursday, and I'm pretty sure she's going to be the boss of him...

Until next time...