What Were we Talking About?

I went to a drama meeting tonight. I'd been looking forward to this meeting for the last month for several reasons. First, it was a meeting for adults. Just adults. No kids. That meant I'd be getting out of the house by myself for a couple hours. Secondly, they were serving Sangria at this meeting. Also, it was just for adults and no children. Oh and did I mention this meeting was only for adults? Of course, I'd look forward to a root canal if it meant I could lie down and didn't have to listen to any kids fighting or asking me for anything for an hour.

Now I really enjoy these drama meetings because there are such fun people involved in the group. I spend most of the evening laughing and laughing and trying not to wet my pants and laughing. This evening, as happens at most of our meetings, the conversation steered toward other topics. Politics, specifically. This is the part of the evening where my eyes glaze over, not because I'm bored with the talk, but because I can't add anything meaningful to the discussion. I admit I've never been terribly interested in current events, but I used to have a clue what was going on in the world around me.

I'm not sure when and how it happened, but somewhere along the line, I became stupid. Yes, yes I know, I'm not really stupid, but when you're in a room full of people who can easily converse on any given topic and you can only chime in if the discussion turns to diaper changing, the best way to scrub pudding off the ceiling, or the latest Backyardigans adventure, you start to feel a little less than intelligent.

I sat there catching bits and pieces of the conversation....taxes......budget.....governor......nine months. My ears perked up! Nine months? I know something about that! Oh wait. They're not talking about pregnancy. They're still on budgets.....administration.....funding. Nope, not a single word about math homework, laundry, or petrified food found in strange areas of the house.

Now don't get me wrong. I know I could take the time to read the paper, watch the news, and study up on current events and politics. I choose not to. I know I'd be prepared to talk about television if I spent time watching the latest reality t.v. show, but let's face it, I get enough reality right here at home. So I sit there and pretend to be just absorbing everything they say with a thoughtful look on my face. Oh well. I guess no one can be totally involved in every conversation, right? We all have different areas of expertise and just because we can't converse on any subject under the sun, doesn't make us stupid. Although.... speaking of stupid... I've had many, many people ask me if I'm LDS. I had no idea why so many people were asking me if I was learning disabled. Apparently LDS does not stand for learning disabled. Who knew? And no, I'm not Mormon. I'm a United Methodist who took a while to figure out the whole birth control thing. :D And I'm glad I did take a while!

Oh yes, no chance to get out of the house by oneself would be complete without an explanation of what they found upon returning home.

Yes, those are my two oldest sons dressed like Teletubbies. Why? I haven't the slightest clue. My husband let them cut apart a couple pictures from a photo album. Pictures that I painstakingly put into this album! Cut apart. The thing that ticks me off is that I have a 200 gallon bucket of photos sitting here in my room. I keep thinking 'some day I'll get them into albums', but someday never comes. The pictures they cut apart, were actually in an album! One of the only albums I've put together. Now I have two glaringly empty spaces. :::sigh::: Anyway, they glued these photos onto some pictures of Teletubby costumes they found in a Halloween catalog. I think I'll start calling them Laa-Laa and Po.

Stacey from All Moments Remembered just emailed me these cool scrap book pages she put together using pictures from my blog. I will never, ever, ever have the time to scrapbook. Really, remember the 200 gallon bucket of pictures? Not only do I have a pile of paper-backed photos that are undoubtedly a fire hazard, but I haven't written a thing in most of my kids' baby books. It's so sad. My first son has a baby book where every "first" is recorded. My oldest daughter has many entries in her book. My third child has two sentences written in his. On and on it goes. My sixth baby doesn't even have a book. So sad.