I'm baaaaack!
I know. I'm a very bad girl. I've ignored by blog duties miserably. I guess as the kids get older, they become less annoying so there's less to gripe and vent about. Plus they don't say the cute things they did before. I'll start by catching up with each kid.
Kristina is waiting to hear which medical school she'll get in to. February 15--everyone keep their fingers, toes, and yes, earlobes crossed that she gets into UT at Houston. Why she can stand to be in the same town as her parents is beyond me. I must have failed miserably in my eternal quest to irritate, embarrass and annoy. Anyway, she's working for a dermatologist to build her cash reserves as is doing sooo well there. You know the Nike motto, "Just do it?" Well, her motto is "Just did it." She's ahead of the game 100% of the time. The downside is that she's using me as a dermatological guinea pig. She's hell bent for leather (what the hell that means, I haven't a clue) on making her mom look 20 years younger. By the time she quits her job, I'll have no spots, wrinkles, sags, creases or hair anywhere on my body. I'll look like a teenager with oddly graying hair. Ha!
Michelle is as free-spirited as ever. She's juggling a full course load in college and an industrial strength social schedule. She has more friends than God, I swear. You know, Michelle has always been my wild little colt. She has a tattoo or two (try saying that 5 times really really fast) and a lip piercing. She's had her fair share of trouble too. (This accounts, in part, for my grey) And sometimes I get the feeling that she looks at herself as the black sheep of the family--not uncommon for kids that break the mold, I guess. So to prove to her that I accept and love her, wildness and all, I got a tattoo this fall. This is no small feat for me, because I can't stand tattoos and I can't fathom why someone would want to desecrate their beautiful bodies with something permanent. After a while, things go out of style. Plus, that picture of Jesus on your ass will eventually look like Quasi Modo when you're 50. Anyway, I chose a rose with a heart on it, and the heart has an M for Michelle's name, It's under my bikini line, but I'd put it in the middle of my forehead if necessary. I figured at 51, it's safe to say I won't ruin my chances to be a runway model for Elle, so... How did she react? She was happier than she's ever been with any gift. She called all her friends. After all, the only thing people really want is love and acceptance. The other kids either cried or wouldn't speak to me for days. They thought it was pretty gross.
Erik is coming along well. He's making all As and Bs in his junior year of high school, is getting handsomer ad handsomer, and is interested in just about any hobby that smacks of testosterone--although with an attention span of a gnat embryo. His latest was boxing. He spent his money on a speed bag and used it for one day. Before that it was RC cars, before that it was karate, before that it was skateboarding, etc. Still looking for his first girlfriend, though. He's so shy, he's probably just going to wait for some girl to paste a big fat kiss on his lips, but I guess that's better than having to hover over a 17 year old Casanova, running behind him with two fists full of condoms yelling, "WAIT!!!!"
Lukas is taller, but still like an innocent child. He's getting so smart in the computer area that we've become totally dependent on him. He's our IT guy. He has a great voice, too. Every time he takes a shower, i can hear him sing at the top of his lungs. It's hilarious. I have to tape it one of these days. He's totally into the Beatles, now and is a walking encyclopedia on the group. I know I'm writing less and less on each subsequent kid, but I'm wearing out.
Annika is still as sweet as ever. She starting volleyball camp in March and is going to the UT camp this summer. She has loads of friends, all of whom endearingly call her "Uni" or "shrimp" because of her puny nature and her biggest problem is being a chatterbox in school. "Too talkative" seems to be the comment of the day on her report cards and progress reports. I guess she has lots to say. She did go through a terrible time recently when we had to put down Zoë, our very first dog--a 14 year old Weimaraner. We all sobs, but she grieved for weeks. She's such a softhearted child.
Anywho, that's all I have to say. I'll be less lazy in the future, I promise.