I'm sorry I've been MIA. It's been a rough coupla weeks - but I'll explain that later. I'm sure you've all been sitting there with bated breath for my next post...

*knock, knock*

Is this thing even on?

*crickets chirping*

After having experienced three practices with coach-pitched baseball, I'm happy to say that I think C-dub will be just fine. He seems to love it, although I find myself cringing whenever they throw the ball to him and he dives to catch it in such a dramatic, compound fracture leg breaking sorta way. It seems that since C-dub has started kindergarten, he has turned into an absolute clutz - almost like the missing member of the three stooges. Judging from the way the other little boys on the team dramatically throw themselves to the ground for no apparent reason, I guess he's a normal kid.

I know he's having fun, but it does cause me some stress. I fear for his teeth and the new tooth that just sprouted. I worry for his turquoise blue eyeballs and the his perfect little snub nose. He's my middle child; he's my Jan Brady. He gives me such anxiety with his antics.

The practices only last an hour but it's long enough to let Gunny roll around in the awesome dirt pile and practice his driving skills with his monstah twucks:

And, it's long enough for Taterbug to sit in the stands (bundled up), making friends and giving up family secrets:

An interesting tidbit about the blanket wrapped around Taterbug - it's an original blanket from one of the old Pacific Lumber bunkhouses. Papa Tom aquired it ages ago and I have a feeling we'll have it forever since you can't even tell it's a relic.

All in all, it's good, somewhat clean fun, although the biting weather does produce some monstruous "Dumb and Dumber" snotsicles.

As far as the tears go, the good news is that they aren't for my Grandma. After a bunch of additional tests, pokes, and stress, it was determined that the "cancerous tumor" is actually a large, innocuous cyst, and the neurologist will be watching it's growth for the next several months. I congratulated my Grandma on her large internal zit. Her relief allowed for a chuckle.

The real tears are for a life situation I'm dealing with. Without going into too many therapeutic details, I'm trying to work through an issue where I need to make some tough choices about friendship, loyalty and truth. I'm in such an emotional state right now and the phrase, "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me," has been echoing through my head. I dunno what I'm going to do but climbing in a hole and hiding out until next year, sounds very appealing right about now.

On a different note, as soon as my POS laptop gets repaired, I'll have some new pic's to post that are sure to turn you "green" with envy and may even bring you a prince, if you kiss it right :-).