From my new favorite site: TFLN

(256): You took my girl thats shot the Fuck out. You better watch your skinny ass.
(1-256): That's barely a sentence. Who's your girl? I think you've got the wrong number. I haven't even lived in Alabama for 4 years.
(256): Yeah, I do, I'm sorry. I meant 205 not 256. sorry about that.
(1-256): Good luck with your revenge in Birmingham.

I really love my new blog layout. It's adorableness wrapped in pretty. Just sayin'.

I have taken to walking three miles every evening. Well, I try to make it every evening. If I don't go it's usually because there is wind. That or I'm feeling terribly lazy. I'm working on it, though. I'm pretty proud of myself. I usually walk with Mike and I sincerely enjoy it. It's like couple activity time rather than exercise. Often, though, Mike has to work and I'm out walking by myself. My drive to still go out, even without him, makes me happy. I realized a few weeks ago that if I waited for him to get home it increased my chances of staying home... who feels like getting exercise after they've already wound down for the day? Not me. So now if he's running late, I just go. I feel good and I know I'll be hitting my long term goals in a shorter time than I thought.

What do you do when you have an eight year old that is so dramatic that the words "I want to kill myself" really make you more irritated than concerned? You hope you're making the right decision when you meet with his teacher repeatedly to assure her that he doesn't really want to die and you calmly inform a very concerned school counselor that it's under control. Then, you threaten the life of said eight year old if he ever so much as breathes the word "death" in front of an audience again. Can my life be more complicated? Why yes, yes it can. Matthew is mustering up the courage to ask a girl on a DATE. Dating for my sixteen (nearly seventeen) year old is about as stressful as talk of suicide from my eight year old.

After I wrote that I started to sing "I am sixteen going on seventeen" in my head. Just sharing.

So, I'm sitting here playing with my blog template (any feedback, btw? I like the yellow and pink but I'm rethinking the green hover on the links.) and I get a little surprise. Zachary, the middle child who briefly dated a senior (all of one day) earlier this year, walked in after selling plants with his honors biology class and informed me that his day had been confusing. So, for you, here is that conversation.

Names have been changed so my son won't kill me if his girlfriends ever find this site.

Zach: Well, today was.... confusing.
Me: Why?
Zach: Well, Mary said no. (he asked Mary out yesterday)
Me: Oh... *disappointed* I'm sorry.
Zach: It's okay. Carrie and I made out.
Me: *surprised* OH. Well, you got your first french kiss, eh?
Zach: : Yeah. We made out three times.
Me: Oh. (thinking about how I'm supposed to respond to this) Um, how was it?
Zach: Not what I expected, actually. I didn't think I was going to get tongue.
Me: (trying so hard not to laugh) Zach, it's never what you'd expect. Trust me.

So, YAY, my son can talk to me... and how weird is that?