Holy shit, people! Look what I JUST figured out how to do?! All by my wee-little-self!

Next up: Solve World Hunger Problem

It's Saturday night!

I have not spoken to my parents since Thursday night.

Turns out my dad called yesterday morning and spoke with Brent. He apologized for not coming over to help, but a.) he couldn't because he had to work early the next day and b.) my mom couldn't because she didn't feel well.

Excuses!

What bugs me most is the despair of it all. There we were, in one of the most helpless, hopeless situations of our life, and my parents could not give up one hour of their evening to help us get through it. So, when will the next letdown be?

Brent's dad came up yesterday and spent the WHOLE day fixing, tiling, working on the foundation problem with Brent. MY dad makes a feeble phone call, even though it's obvious he's got the day off and could have came over. I even thought maybe they would come over last night, but not even that.

I don't know if it's because they really don't care, or if it's because they can feel my pulsating wrath from all the way across town and want to stay away.

You (by that, I mean the collective you) start.

What's that? You say "I've never hung up on my mom?" Crap. I'm out of the game.

Huh. Up until tonight I've never disconnected in the middle of a phone call with my mom. Sure, I've been irritated with her plenty of times, but never enough to, you know, cut her off.

Until tonight.

To put everything into context, don't forget we had that big disaster last week with our kids' carpets, walls, and furniture getting ruined by the five-inches-in-one-go rain. Well, we've just started putting our lives back together after that one...got the carpet pad ripped out, damp drywall cut out yesterday, and things drying out.

Then, tonight, more rain. Massive rain. Tornado warnings, even.

Naturally, we're in the basement, because local meterologist Ed Wilson urges us to seek shelter. Keeping a close eye on the bedrooms, though, for signs of leakage. 'Cause, see, it's the foundation, and Brent's been trying to do a little preventive work here and there, but we're pretty ripe to something like this happening again.

And it does. Pretty soon, we hear the telltale drip-drip of water coming into the bedroom...and it soon becomes an urgent trickle. And yep, we haul ALL our towels downstairs, but it's soon getting out of hand and the water is covering a good portion of the floor. The kids are bringing me sopping wet towels, which I am wringing out left and right. Still, I throw a couple of quilts in there to help stop the water.

I call my mom in a panic (they live in town) asking if she has any more towels I can borrow. She hems and haws and says, "Don't you have any blankets?" I tell her yes, we're using them plus every single towel in our house. Then she says, well...I don't know...

At that point I realize what's happening. She or my dad aren't coming over to help us. In our freaking moment of need. So that's when I cut her off by saying, "OK, then, I gotta go." And I hung up.

It may seem minor to most of you, but honestly, I felt abandoned. How can a child ever be prepared for that?

of the first day of school that is.

I'm always of two minds when it comes to the first day. I'm excited, but yet I dread it, because there's so much rule-telling, announcement-making, and tradition-doing that goes on that first day, it's pretty much a wash.

However, I seem to have a good group of kids. I stress "seem" because I've only had them one day.

My legs and feet hurt, primarily because I've been on them all day. Not to mention my throat is a bit scratchy and I'm tired.

In spite of that, though, I think I'll go back tomorrow. And probably enjoy it.

The start of another school year begins tomorrow.

I think I'll list my professional goals at this time.

1. Integrate technology (have two ideas already in works for this)

2. Don't get behind in planning of my new Yearbook-Newspaper combo class.

3. Read all professional mail (I have this one every year)

4. Meet all Publication deadlines (yearbook and newspaper)

5. Try to stay positive every day of my job.

And off we go!