My road is paved with good intentions

I recently came across this website at work. There is a definition of each problem behavior that you may come across in a school setting. I got really upset that the someone had obviously been following me around taking notes!

Discipline Help: You Can Handle Them All:


"The Procrastinator Behavior: Specific attitudes and actions of this child at home and/or at school.
Long on talk and enthusiasm but short on work and success.

Always puts things off.

Has no sense of urgency.

Usually 'talks a good game,' but accomplishes little. To hear this student talk, one would think he/she couldn't wait to get to work, or to put into practice what he/she has learned.

Often the first to volunteer for a task. Says, 'Oh, I'll do it.' Unfortunately, never says when.

Never gets anything done; is always 'going to get it done tomorrow.'

Does seem to have a need to please and usually does want to get the job done."


Did this sound familiar?


Oh, boy, did it ever! I have intended to update my blog for several weeks now. It is only fair to tell you that I saved the draft of this post three weeks ago! But I'm turning over a new leaf.

Butterbean is also turning over a new leaf. . . to wear a dress and tutu everywhere she goes. She has already begun to follow through with her promise.

Enough said . . .

Sugar and Spice

Don't get me wrong . . .

boys are great.

In fact, we spent Thursday afternoon with my dear friend Lori and her three precious boys. You couldn't ask for a more thoughtful boy than Knox. He was so patient and kind to Annika. Banks is the best at wearing construction hats and getting down and dirty with some trucks and Lincoln Logs. And that precious, new Gaines is so yummy that I wanted to inhale him.

So again, I will say. . .

boys are great.

Snakes and snails, puppy dog tails and all.

But, alas, I have no boys.

Just one strong-willed little girl.

I love the pigtails, the pure need to wear a tutu for days on end, the purses full of tiny babies and pretend make-up, the bows in the hair that are pulled out as soon as we are out the front door, the gobs of necklaces, and the love of all things pink.

It's everything nice.

Hurt feelings

Thursday morning Annika hurt my feelings.

I was leaving for work and she was eating her breakfast while her daddy was in the shower.

I said, "Goodbye Butterbean. Have a good day. I love you!"

She was supposed to say (as is the official routine), "Goodbye Mommy. Have a good day. I love you too!"

Instead she said, "I'm not Butterbean. I'm Akka. You not call me Butterbean anymore."

So I said (in my sweetest mommy tone), "But I've called you Butterbean since you were a little baby."

She replied, "I not a baby anymore Mommy."

I cried a single tear and left for work.

She's pretty callous for a toddler.

Traditions passed down from Lynda

On Halloween night, I'll be a spook, scary as can be.

"Who's that spook?" people will ask.

It's just me behind my mask. Boo!

My mother, Lynda, sang this with me every year at Halloween. We would dig out the paper plate pumpkin mask that I created in preschool and recite the poem in a sing-song voice.

Annika says, "I'll be a pook, scary as can be." Just exactly like my mom says I always did.

The Fallen Fairy aka Butterbean says, "Boo" to you and yours.

Not just a Sunday drive

When I was in college, I owned a 1990 convertible Mustang. It looked similar to this picture, except the body was baby blue. I have never been into cars, nor have I been since this baby was totaled on a beautiful October afternoon in 1994.

I loved that car. My dad bought it, washed it, hid it in my great grandparents' carport, and surprised me on Christmas morning. He was more pleased than I was to see me drive off in my robe with my pajama-clad brother Jud as my first passenger. (Shhh. . .is it still too early to tell that Jud actually told me about my surprise on Christmas Eve?)

In college, I thought my life was overwhelming a lot of the time. (Wow. . .if I only knew, huh?) My classes, quizzes, social events, boy troubles, Pi Phi t-shirt choices, being late for the Campus Bus, and blind date fiascos (Have you ever been dumped at a social for the picture girl? Ugh!)just totally put me over the edge sometimes. When those days came (and they came quite a lot, now that I think about it) I got in that car named Rhoda, and I drove. (Please tell me that you watched Rhoda!)

I rolled the windows down, pushed back the ragtop, and drove through Watkinsville, Bishop, Farmington, and into Madison, Georgia. I cruised through "downtown" Madison until I located my friend and landscaper, Tate. When I found him at the local McDonald's spreading mulch, I parked my car and got out to put my hands in the dirt and forget about everything else.

Though the landscaping, socializing, and manual labor were all very therapeutic, it was the drive that was always my favorite part.

This evening I am wishing for a ragtop, a scarf in my hair, an old country road, and cool air pockets as I stretch my hand out the window and let it all go.

Lucky me

My husband is quiet, laid back, neat, shy, and (sometimes painfully) honest.

I, on the other hand, am gregarious, intense, a self-proclaimed "stacker of stuff", and (sometimes painfully) a white liar. (You know, just enough to protect people's feelings!!!)

I would be (white) lying if I didn't say that the aforementioned qualities of my dear husband don't drive me crazy. For instance, last Sunday I got out two boxes of fall/winter clothes from the attic to switch out my closet. Monday morning they had already been placed back in the attic beore I had the chance to switch the clothes. Now, that's really being obsessively neat, right???

And sometimes, when we're at parties, I get annoyed if I see him checking soccer scores instead of engaging in conversation with strangers.

He was so shy on our first (blind) date that he avoided looking at me for the first 20 or so minutes.

And if you want an honest opinion if your butt looks big in that skirt, then he's your man.

This weekend, my parents are keeping Annika so that Geoff and I could attend Cindy's Big Birthday Bash last night. Over the past 24 hours, I have been reminded of all of his endearing qualities that made me fall in love with him after that first (blind) date.

He is a very sharp dresser. Really, you should have seen him last night.

He prepares a four course meal every weekend for the two of us after Butterbean goes to bed.

He is (sometimes painfully) honest about all of the things that other men avoid discussing.

He makes really good friends over time.

He is the funniest, if sometimes inappropriate, man I know.

I'm one lucky gal.