I made it.
I survived skydiving.
Then again, I wasn’t nervous or scared about it at all. It went by so quickly. Well, the jumping out of the plane and the free fall went by quickly. The sailing down was no different than paragliding. My pilot was a grizzled old Vietnam vet who trains people at the Navy Academy. He was close to 2 feet shorter than me. I was bummed because I thought I would get someone closer to my height. Anyway, he had no patience and when he was fitting me in my harness, he kept slapping my hands away when I checked the strap. It made me laugh a little bit. I’ve climbed many, many times, and that’s just what you do, you double check your harness. Anyway, he cinched me SO TIGHT, I waddled when I walked. Now, as if that wasn’t enough, he kept yanking and tightening us together once we were in the plane. That is a good thing, right? Well, I looked at the other people in the plane and their pilots weren't doing anything other than clipping on. Needless to say, I was really, really squished. I am definitely going diving again though. It was cool. What makes me go “hum” is, I get more nervous and panicked when I scuba than I did skydiving.
I don't know why we HAVE TO sign this.
This plane takes 2 tandem jumpers at a time.
Our plane held 5 tandem jumpers.
We were just so excited, we couldn't stand it.
Here we are practicing.
Here is my pilot. I'm surprised he wasn't swatting
my hand DURING the picture.
If you ever wondered what he did in the off season.....
Dawn, ya, she got someone her own size.
We are so stinkin' cute.
I put my life in the hands of that little backpack right there.
Yep, that's it. That itty, bitty, pack.
The following are from phone conversations I've had with O.
Unintelligible wailing, something about a shower and then more wailing. "Dad isn’t acting like a Dad, it’s like he doesn’t have any kids. He’s making me take a shower. I don’t want to take a shower in the morning. I want to take it at night, but daddy is making me take it in the morning."
"Dad owes me $4.95 and he won’t give it to me. He owes me $4.95, I polished his best shoes and he only gave me a compliment. He owes me $4.95."
O was having a rough night and throwing a fit about brushing her teeth. We told her she needed to go into the bathroom to brush her teeth and she couldn’t brush them in our bedroom. She stomped past me, in the bedroom, and reached out and grabbed my boob.
The boob note I added to my last post is also my desktop.
Well, O had a friend over. They wanted to listen to some music on Spotify, so O woke up my computer and HELLO BOOB SIGN. Her poor friend was quite disturbed. I felt so horrible, I told her Mom and apologized. (Her daughter was seriously upset.) Fortunately, her Mom is a good friend of mine and she just laughed at it. What a relief. I don’t know how most people feel about boob talk with their children.
Another person who saw this was my Dad. Once I noticed my desktop was open, I closed it as quickly as I could. I was embarrassed he had seen it.
O - “Mom, I’m going to miss you.”
Me - “I’m going to miss you too. I won’t have anyone squeezing my boobs until I get back on Saturday.”
On the Nightstand
Well, I finished the Overlander series by Suzanne Collins. The plot is different than Hunger Games, but the same messages are present. The “Hero” is forced into killing people they don’t want to kill. The internal struggle of the “Hero” to make sense of what they did and how they are going to live their life post the traumatic events. I liked that, even though it is young adult fiction, it didn’t have a cheesy, everything ends up happy ending. It was more realistic than the lovers can be together after all, or everybody ends up alive and happy. If O chooses to read it as a teenager, I think we could have some interesting conversations.
The Hound of Rowan , by Henry H. Neff
I decided to start another book I took from my nephews stash this summer. They were at my Mum’s house, so they were fair game. This one has potential.
One of the really cool things I get to do with my 5th graders is something called, Team Time. Twice a month, I get each class for 30 minutes and I am suppose to teach them a lesson on a monthly topic given to me by the guidance counselors. WELL, I decided to take the time to get know them this past Team Time. SO, I took them outside to play games and, yes…. we did, Dum-Dum-Da-Da. :) It was hilarious watching them try to figure it out and keep up. Oh my gosh, I don’t know if it was more entertaining for them or me.
Recently, I went with a class to the Chesapeake Bay for field work. We rode on a boat and harvested oyster shells. Yay/Ew. A teacher wanted to keep some shells to put on a doc panel in the hallway. Okay! and Okay? We brought them home in a ziploc bag. I left it open and on my desk when we returned. I wasn’t at school the following day because I was suppose to skydiving. Anyway, when I came to my desk on Monday, I saw the bag and, it didn’t stink! YAY!!! I picked it up and then… the stench…oh, the smell. It almost knocked me over. It was SO BAD. I put water and soap in the bag and let it sit in the staff bathroom for the day. I laughed to myself wondering what others thought when they were in there. :) Well, since I knew the smell was toxic and I didn’t want it spilling in my car, I held the bag the ENTIRE drive home. I opened the bag and put it in the sink. This was Monday, I didn’t get to scrubbing them until Tuesday night. I set them on cloths to dry and left the room. I came back and OH THE STENCH! NO!!! Scrubbing didn’t help, so I just put them in the garage. It will be interesting to see what the teachers have to say.
At the last meeting, one of the regulars made some comments, not about me, but they reminded me that I am not only the facilitator, I am also meant to be a resource and a leader. I know with more of my energy being directed toward taking care of my Mum, I have not put as much energy into my role of the group. I don’t want it to fail.