Today my kids had to do their Knights of the Round Table presentations. They had to come in costume and do an oral presentation in order to convince King Arthur (me) to give them an invitation to join his knights. It was just about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. They went all out and there was much aluminum foil everywhere.
This evening marked our first “History Night” following last year’s “Math Night.” It was called “Virginian Idols” and we had people dressed up as all kinds of historic Virginians. We served a barbecue dinner and my awesome older brother provided the entertainment. The 5th grade teachers acted as Idol Security, meaning we were crowd control. We all wore white shirts, black ties, and sunglasses. I looked kind of like a lesbian. But hey, the people listened to me. It was a good time had by all.
I just realized that I spent 12 hours at work today. That means I will be *back* at work very soon. I must go to sleep soon. Half day tomorrow though because of my trip to the doctors to investigate the mysterious boob/chest problem!
I have an appointment to see my doctor on Wednesday about the crippling pain in the stage right side of my lower chest. The area is very tender and seems to have some swelling or a lump there, can’t really tell. I’m really really really hoping it’s just a pull or torn muscle rather than something else. Apparently scar tissue often forms when you’ve hurt a muscle. I’m trying hard not to strain it too much but the area involved is required to do a variety of things including:
- opening doors
- sitting up
- lifting anything at all
- existing as a human being
Who knew your chest was so involved in your daily life? The most frustrating part is that I can’t really exercise how I want to. I’ve been seeing results in my arms, abs, shoulders, and back (key in supporting the bossoms). But oh well, hopefully my doctor will tell me that’s what it is and we’ll get it treated/dealt with so I can get back in the swing of things. I have a funny feeling that my signature scent will soon be muttled by the smell of Aspercreme.
Friday night: went to the Hill Cafe with Ross, MattWhite, and Justin, went to Commercial TapHouse with aforementioned people and met up with Rachel, Jake, and Zach for beers and fun. Went to bed.
Saturday morning: Woke up with a sore throat and a headache (I’m sure this had nothing to do with the beers from the night before), puttered around the house.
Saturday afternoon: Went to the gym and DID NOT get McDonald’s afterwards, fell asleep watching Talladega Nights.
Saturday night: Went to Kroger and bought crappy food, ate crappy food while watching Jeremiah Johnson on AMC, went to bed.
Sunday morning: asleep
Sunday afternoon: Did absolutely nothing until it was time for church.
Sunday night: Went to church, once again thought the pastor had spent the last week secretly following my every move after I heard his sermon, had snacks and chats after church, picked up Jenni and Remus and met Rachel at Joe’s for dinner, came home, realized it was too cold to stay downstairs, going to bed hoping for lots of ice, i.e. a day off from school.
And now for a something I love:
This picture is saved as “my love” on my computer. If loving her is wrong, I don’t wanna be right. I am counting the days until Project Runway season 4 (and Tim Gunn, if you eff it up with your “I need to honor my obligations to my students” bullsh*t then I WILL END YOU).
Apparently, all I want is for Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie to like me. I had a dream last night that I was hanging out with the couple at their fabulous home in Africa. I have no idea how I got there, but I was there and it was FABULOUS. Brad and Angie kept talking to me about their children and asking me advice on the best way to educate them. When I tried to talk I discovered that my teeth were glued together (I imagine this comes from the fact that I clench my jaw shut while sleeping) and couldn’t talk without sounding ridiculous. Finally they got so fed up with me that they kicked me out and told me to go hang out with Jennifer Aniston. I woke up very upset.
This little guy’s parents could use a little help right now. Pray for his Daddy’s health and his Mama’s strength. I put his picture up because I knew once you saw how cute he is you wouldn’t be able to resist. Thanks.
At around 3:00pm today I was assaulted by the pain of what I was convinced was the onset of a brain tumor. Ok, it wasn’t really *that* bad, but I rarely get headaches so my tolerance is pretty low.
I am notorious at home and at work for not taking medicine when I should. I think this is because I already have medicine in my system 100% of my life that I’d prefer to not add to the arsenal of chemicals adjusting my body. Rather than taking something for a headache or cold, I just sit and talk about how I have it, not complaining, just stating that it’s happening.
Well today it was bad enough for me to drive home and immediately pump myself with Aleve and go straight to bed. Who knew that would take care of it? You all did, probably. Anyway, when I woke up feeling better I started thinking about how crazy headaches are. I mean, your brain doesn’t feel pain, so how can your head hurt, especially when you haven’t experienced any trauma or injuries. To find out I turned to the authority of all information: wikipedia.org. You can find out about headaches here. Or if that doesn’t interest you, try this, this, or this, all of which I find fascinating and mysterious. Happy reading!
THE CATROW FAMILY HAS FLIPPED ITS COLLECTIVE LID!!!!!!!!! STRANGERS IN THE HOUSE!!!!!
A while ago RVAblogs tried to have a get together so we could see each other as real, live people. It didn’t really work. I think it didn’t work because it was at a place that a lot of people didn’t no about, a “suggested donation” was mentioned, and, hey, we were all a little nervous. But, friends, we’re so close now. Our love is real. Our hatred is founded. Let’s get together.
So, I am hereby putting an invitation out there. I would like members of RVAblogs to come to our house for a party. Any friends/children/babies/offspring/yung’uns/chirren/little ones/etc. frequently mentioned on your blog are welcome, too. I’m a teacher, I will entertain them and smother them will love with your permission. I don’t know when this will happen because I wanted to feel out general interest first. We have a small house but it’s a cozy one and I’d like you all to come. ALL OF YOU.
So, leave a comment if you’re interested, or email me at valerie.catrow@gmail.com.
I debated with myself over whether or not to write about the size of my chest with you all again, but in the end I decided that it’s my blog and I can do what I want. If you are not interested in my bossoms and their adventures then you can kindly stop reading.
My chest is on my mind a lot (haha, funny mental picture) because it’s kind of hard to ignore. I have a relatively small body frame and relatively not-so-small bossoms. I don’t know where I get it from. My sister has the same issue to a point. Our mother keeps telling us that hers didn’t get big until after she had kids, so it’s not her fault. Regardless, it’s an issue I’ve been dealing with since middle school.
It was seriously like I woke up one day and they were there. They’ve gotten progressively bigger over the years, but it wasn’t like I started out as a nice A-cup (oh, to be an A-cup and get to wear string bikinis and shirts with low necklines…sigh). I went from nothing to somethings in no time.
Once I went to college and finally made it to a healthy weight (I was barely 100lbs. when I got there and finished the year at 115lbs., a fact which made my mother exclaim, “You look like a girl now!”), the somethings gained weight, too. A trip to Victoria’s Secret for a massive stock-up was required pretty much every year. Why do you *have* to go to Victoria’s Secret you ask? Well, the thing is, when your bossoms make up a significant percentage of your weight, you don’t want to go low-budget. It’s like with trashbags or tin foil: you think you’re being all smart buying generic but end up cursing yourself when you realizes it’s just not the same.
Anyway, one of those trips had to happen today. Although my new workout regime has been helping with the discomfort, the girls just weren’t being taken care of properly. I’ve been ending each day with soreness all around my middle as my bras seem to have staged a mutiny, pinching and poking me at every turn. Not only that, most times I’m required to wear some kind of binding tank top under all of my shirts to keep things under control. It was time. So, nearly $100 later (sorry, hubs) I left with 3 new, properly fitted bras (that were on sale and still cost over $30 a piece for about 2 yards of fabric, some elastic, and some wire) and thoroughly pissed that I had to go through the whole process AGAIN. It almost makes me want to not have children for fear of what kind of science fiction hoopla will go on up there once that happens.
Friday afternoon/night: NEW HAIR!!! Nap, ate some mozzarella sticks for dinner, watched some TV, bed.
Saturday morning: Gym at 8.
Saturday afternoon: Lunch with the sister, short nap.
Saturday night: Saw Notes on a Scandal with hubs (it’s really good) and then drinks and snacks at Capital Ale House. Bed.
Sunday morning: Unexpected babysitting instead of feeding the homeless as planned.
Sunday afternoon: Finally started taking down the Christmas decorations. Church.
Sunday evening/night: Dinner with the in-laws, did some work for PharrOut, off to bed in a bit.
And here are two of my favorite things that I love so much:
On the left we have Zapp, our hound-dog-mutt. She’ll be 2 in March. She loves digging, sniffing, kisses, standing on her head, and petting people. She is not smart.
On the right we have Shooter, our German Shepherd mix. He’ll be 4 in July. He loves empty paper towel rolls, socks, and Clementine oranges. He’s an excellent prancer. You can tell he is very smart by his distinguished gray face.
Here’s my new hair. Please excuse the tired eyes - it’s after 10pm and I’m still awake. I made the picture small so my enormous nose wouldn’t come through the screen and bop you on the face. I am also wearing my Charlie Brown T-shirt which accompanied me on my tattooing expedition AND makes me popular with all the kids.
