The passion for football in Oklahoma still sort of floors me. Sure, I knew a lot of football fans growing up, I watched the Seahawks with my dad, rooted for my Huskies, but here? It is a religion unto itself. My sister in law had the audacity, back in 2000, to schedule her wedding during the OU - Texas game. Her family and guests would surreptitiously (well not so much) sneak out during the ceremony to check the score throughout the brief ceremony.
Flash forward to the OU - Texas game this past weekend: it is held at the Cotton Bowl near Dallas. After scrolling through my Facebook feed and realizing that PVT and I were among just a handful of Tulsans who had not left their children with the in-laws to go to the hallowed game, I started to make some horrible calculations: Tulsa is very close to Dallas. Lots of Tulsans and Oklahomans descended on Dallas this weekend. Lots of Tulsans were coming back from Dallas to Tulsa. Do you see where I am going with this? How far, exactly, is Texas Health Presbyterian and its environs from Cotton Bowl Stadium?
Not that far, people. So yes, before I sent my children to school this morning, I did some crazy, wholly unscientific and fear-induced calculus in my little untrained brain.
This, my friends, is why I am slacking on the blogging. I am transfixed by Ebola.
I know it makes no sense for me, in my relatively sterile suburban bubble, to obsess over this. And my kids have been robustly healthy these past few months - maybe I don't have enough to worry about! But a little bout of stomach flu running through our house unhinges me, so I cannot begin to fathom the despair that these people in West Africa must be experiencing: a stomach flu that is so awful you might die. Or your child might die. And the medical help is wildly, horribly insufficient.
I wish God would intervene pretty quickly. I am sure he already has, but I'm impatient like that.
That's enough of a glimpse into the paranoid musings of a Tulsan hausfrau.
Now to the more lovely and pedestrian happenings around here:
This guy turned twelve.
Keane is, despite a penchant for disorganization, (don't worry Keane, no one you know reads this blog!) doing quite well this school year. After losing his school ID twice in the first few weeks of school, leaving his phone on the bus and forgetting a few homework assignments, he is doing kind of rocking his new middle school. He is also balancing soccer and band with much requisite loafing and playing some Risk-type game on the computer. And, quite to his misfortune, he has inherited his mother's penchant for obsessing and worrying.
And that is all I will say about our beloved first born who is, after all, on the brink of teenager-dom.
The girls have been busy with their little dance classes. Well, Sylvie has been busy and Margaux desperately wishes she were.
|Margaux crashing the big girl dance class|
|She hula'd her heart out|
|She works hard for her cookie|
|Some mom spent a freakload of money on these ballerina cookies|