Parades & Postponed Posting

SO.
I'm thankful. I have much to be thankful for. I'll post an exhaustive list sometime. It will require a lot of scrolling on your part. Be prepared.

But what I am thankful for now is the fact that I exaggerated a bit when I said I had mono. I was wrong.

I don't have it.
It feels like I'm in a never-ending cycle of sickness. It is sickness that won't go away, but it isn't mono. Turns out, the symptoms of mono line up with the symptoms of other viruses to a certain degree...


I'm on the dramatic side of things, just in case you didn't notice.

So, I just have a never-ending cold that is turning into a sinus infection.
I know everyone reading this is rejoicing with me.


I'll try not to be so hyperbolic in the future.



SO YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT ME. That's why you're here. To read about the inane happenings in my life, right?

Right.


The classic country song by Toby Keith is coming to mind.

(I'm getting back into that kind of twangy music. I thought I very muchly disliked it. I was wrong. It's a love/hate thing. Right now, I *heart* Brad Paisley. Tomorrow, who knows?)

You know that song, "I Wanna Talk About Me"?
(Everyone knows that one. If not, look it up. You need to know it for those times when you feel self-centered.)

Well, actually, talking about me is boring to me. I already know this stuff. But I want to record these happenings for posterity. SOMEDAY, I'll look back at my old posts and...I have no idea what will happen.

An update on my life:

Saturday, I went to the local Christmas PARADE!
I didn't think I was big on parades. I was wrong {again}. I'd better not make a habit of being wrong.

Here's what I thought Saturday night. (I didn't post, because I didn't get to finish my thoughts. I fell asleep)

Saturday night aprox 9:30:

"I'm feeling like a glazed doughnut. I mean this literally.  

Sugar and wheat with a glazed expression.

Because, after a day like today, I am so wiped out.

Want to know why?

Because I can, I'll elaborate.

My mom, dad, Amy and Mrs. Sharon and I took a group of 8 kids from the nearby apartments (the same place we do homework help) to the downtown Christmas parade. None of the kids had ever been to a parade before.

To make a long story short, it was fun.

I got caught up in the child-like excitement of the parade with them. I usually take such events for granted; today the parade felt like a whole new experience. 

To sum up, I was giddy.

Ben (who is 8) kept shouting [to the floats] "WELCOME TO THE CHRISTMAS PARADE!! WELCOME!"

...can you say cute?

When the high-school marching bands would go by, a few of the kids had a dance they performed {reminiscent of the charlie brown gang}

There were very few hiccups (getting them to the bathroom in the huge crush of people was a mess (a figurative mess, thankfully)).

We had two of the them come home with us (John, 6, and Ben, 8.) since their parents were out of town that day. 

I had so much fun. I relived a small part of my childhood.

The part of my childhood that was bursting with energy, always ready to play something new. The part that would laugh and tirelessly chase after soccer balls until I reached the point of collapsing on the grass.  

If you're feeling like such a "mature adult" (I have not, but I have been lately lamenting getting old), I suggest that you take on some rambunctious kids for a few hours. It's totally refreshing (and somewhat exhausting)

So when we got Ben and John, they were only slightly worn out from the parade. Their energy tanks were still very full.

Goal: exhaust the energy tank! 

I can say "goal accomplished". We ran around the park for a few hours playing until utter exhaustion set in. The boys collapsed first, complaining that their legs were "so tired", and "they never could walk again". 

John, lying on the grass, started dragging himself to the car by grabbing fistfuls of grass. 

It was humorous. But he refused to be carried. 

Finally he let me give him a piggy-back ride to the car.  Ben tried to be a tough guy, but he ended up falling over too. He kept telling us he could "beat us up in soccer", but we proved him wrong. 

We then grabbed some burgers and hotdogs (John was adamant about eating CHICKEN) with a healthy dose of ketchup. 

Those boys can use some ketchup! They ate the equivalent of seven packs each. I was amazed. They're both originally from the Congo; I don't know if ketchup is a staple sauce there, but those boys love it!

We went home and watched a few movies, played wii, checked out Miss Makenzie's computer...."

And that's where I stopped on Saturday; I never got around to posting. Chasing after kids all day is hard work.


On Sunday, I saw the boys again. Little John told me that he was going home with me. Awww! His mom, of course, wouldn't be so happy about that...



Also, John really liked the camera feature on my computer:

He is so cute. I am so wiped out. 

As an aside:
I like being called "Miss Makenzie" by the kids I work with in homework help, kid's club, and awana.
It doesn't feel so strange to me. I thought it would weird me out.
Every time I hear "Miss Makenzie!" it makes me smile (at least on the inside).
Maybe I smile because of the ridiculous thought that I'm actually at the age of being in charge and mature.
I'm good at being in charge and bossy, (as my younger sisters will attest) yet,


I don't feel that old.

(don't) kiss me

Well, the irony is crazy.
This irony makes me laugh ...soundlessly.
Why soundlessly, you ask?

If I tell you, it will cause you to pity me, I'm sure. {At least I hope it will. DO pity me.}

To set the stage: I've been learning some new tunes on the guitar. Last week, my sister and I sang "Kiss Me" by Sixpence None the Richer. We sang it a few times in a row. We even went so far as to sing it for others to hear.

You reap what you sow.

I didn't plan on actually kissing anyone. You know this, right?

Strangely and sadly enough, I have the KISSING SICKNESS.

Ewwwwww.....
*Dun, Dun, Duuuuuuunnn*
How can this be?
All I did was sing about kissing.
Maybe I should go whisper-sing about NOT kissing. Would that help??

I've been sick quite a few times in the past few months off and on.
All of the viruses have had the same complications and symptoms.
Annnnnd, the symptoms match up with mono.
My voice is gone.
My head is throbbing.
My lymph nodes are swollen.
I'm not hungry.
I ache.
I also have a propensity to complain via blog. (the tell-tale symptom)

Sorry. I don't mean to take it out on you. But since I can't vocalize my feelings, typing about them helps.

...I read "Hard Times" by Charles Dickens today. I hadn't read it before. It was a good read, but sad and a bit depressing. Not the best "get well book"
It made me thankful to live now rather than in Victorian England. I'm blessed to not simply have facts.


In order to redeem this post, that is to make it somewhat readable and a smidgen entertaining, I will tell you about a hobby of mine. [Prepare for major geekiness.]

I have a garden growing in my room.
It is a modest garden, but it adds a sense of homeyness and happy.
Okay, it's a collection of houseplants.
But they are so fun!

...I can see you rolling your eyes.
Stop.

If you were allergic to almost every animal, you'd love plants too.


In order to personify them, I have named them. Some of them even have baby plants now. aww...
There is my crazy colored plant that turned out to be two plants in one pot. Bonus! After separating them, I decided to call it "Duran" and "Duran". Good band and good plants.

Then there's my dappled aloe plant that goes by the name of Fitzgerald.
It has grown two aloe-ettes that have been transplanted.

There's two baby sunflowers that are growing rapidly. Who knew that you could grow sunflowers inside? Turns out, it's entirely feasible

...I hope.

Anywho, I missed homework help, due to my sickness. There was still sunshine and rainbows tonight, because Noella {who is an amazing girl} made me and my sister a picture.
Have I mentioned that I love art?

"Get well Miss Makenzie and Savennah." 

In other news, today, as Mom was slicing potatoes for potato soup, she found a hollow cavity that looks like a heart in one of the potatoes. Just in time for... 

Also my beautiful bed arrived today! It looks princessy, but it does NOT have a pea under the mattress  (I checked) 

I think I'll go make use of it. I'm so groggy. 

The Hazards that Hinder Homework Help

As you may have read, homework help was last night.

It happens at a nearby apartment complex where many of the residents don't speak English as their first language. It's a great multi-cultural experience... Swahili, Spanish, French, Nepali...

Turns out, it's more perilous than I had originally thought.
...
Never trust a girl with scissors.
NEVER.
ESPECIALLY one who desperately wants your attention.

Would you like me to elaborate? I shall.

Homework help starts at 7.
Ben and John were there early. They asked me to help them with their math.  It took some concentration on my part to get both of them to focus...every few minutes John or Ben would start talking about something random or try to run around the small room like maniacs.

John and Ben are both on the "Hey! Look! A shiny object!" side of things.

So I was helping Ben with subtraction. John was practicing counting up to 20. I didn't really have any more attention to give.

Dekyria came in late. She asked me to help her, but I really couldn't.
There were others who were more than happy to help this 6 year old with her "homework". (She had a word search.)


Needless to say, Dekyria ended up going to someone else for word search advice.

Unaware of things happening around me, I focused in on helping the two boys finish their worksheets.

(NOTE TO SELF: remain conscious of surroundings AT ALL TIMES) 

This isn't sounding good.

A few minutes later, as I was explaining subtraction to Ben, he pointed behind me and said "Miss Makenzie! Your hair!"
Oblivious, I turned around to see what he was pointing at.

Dekyria was standing right behind me.
She brandished a pair of scissors...

...and had a clump of my red hair in her fist.

I was in shock. She should know better than to cut other people's hair, right?
WRONG,
          wrong,
               wrong,
                    WRONG.

This girl had never learned the important fact of personal space/NOT CHOPPING off other people's hair.

Incredulous, I asked, "Dekyria, why did you do that?"

She grinned, "'Cause I want something to remember you by next time I go on a cruise."

...mmmkay....these kids don't have many luxuries. A cruise?!? Really?

Still in shock, I told her, "You should not cut other people's hair without asking first."

She didn't seem to get it.


So, Amy [who is better at handling such matters; she is a schoolteacher] called her over and discussed the incident.

I think it finally sunk in for Dekyria. Crying, Dekyria told me she was sorry. Of course I forgave her.
But, I put my hair up in a bun...just to be safe.

She's a piece of work. She CRAVES attention. When she gets it, it's never enough. I love her, but sometimes it's tough. Especially last night.
Please pray for her (and me).

Really, PLEASE do...I like my hair on my head.

When I got home, I inspected the spot that had been cut.
Luckily, I have layers, so it isn't blatantly noticeable.

Sadly, it takes my hair a very long time to grow.

I've learned a priceless lesson.
You should too: always know if there are scissors nearby.