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Carrie Leigh
So... you all know how my husband's twelve, right?

Well, not literally. Literally he's 47. But definitely metaphorically... Totally twelve.
Whose fault is it, internet?Collapse )
I feel:: feisty
Carrie Leigh
08 September 2016 @ 09:32 am
A little over a year ago, I had a very vivid dream. I have strange dreams all the time, but this one was different, in that it wasn't fantastical or unreal, or involving me not ever going to a college class in which I'd somehow forgotten I'd enrolled, but it was my Granny, smiling, looking at me and saying, "Carrie Leigh, when are you going to come visit me?"

Here's what I did.Collapse )

She passed away on my Papaw's birthday, and we buried her on 92nd birthday. She was a great woman, certainly an important woman in my life, and I miss her today.
I am:: home
I feel:: reflective
Carrie Leigh
28 August 2016 @ 05:17 pm

(Today's play took place Friday, wherein my high school junior came home for lunch and began the process of making himself a sandwich.

Read more...Collapse )
Carrie Leigh

So once again, I put pen to page (er, fingers to keyboard) to make you people feel better about your own lives.

Read more...Collapse )
I feel:: embarrassedembarrassed
I hear:: hospital noises
Carrie Leigh
18 February 2016 @ 03:52 pm
I saw something the other day that has really made me think.

For better or worse, it's made me think. For better, I think. I hope.

Yes. Better.

Thinking is something that I do often. But usually it's how to make a joke, or explain my life in an amusing way for a story, or how to break down a script effectively, or how to get my sons to bring their laundry downstairs, or how not to bury my husband in the backyard, or how to engage teenagers in dramatic storytelling. It isn't usually baring my soul for the masses. But, I think it's important this time. The path has been set in front of me, and all I have to do is take a step of faith.

So here goes.

Reality. It's not for everyone.Collapse )
I feel:: contemplativecontemplative
Carrie Leigh
27 January 2016 @ 03:45 pm
I have two teenaged boys.

Anyone who knows me knows this to be true, but sometimes I have to say it out loud to remind myself that they aren't still in first and third grade, needing me to stick the straw in their Capri Suns.


Not really. But the time is marching on. Aaron will be in high school next year, and Ethan is just four months away from having a driver's license. They're good boys, by and large, and present a respectable, responsible (sort of) picture of fine young men to the world.

Except for Saturday.

Saturday afternoon, Nolan and I were driving around, looking for a house for my Dad, who is moving to Amarillo in just two weeks. They didn't want to go with us, so we dropped the boys off at the house with a list of chores to be completed. My phone rings, and no sooner than I say, "Hello," than Aaron screams, "HAND THE PHONE TO DAD!"

You just never want to hear that.

I comply, though, because although I am a modern woman, capable of triage and problem-solving, there is a clear division of labor in our household, and our boys know this. If there is an emotional issue, or something that needs to be cleaned, or some sort of acting emergency, I've got it. For everything else: Nolan Kyle.

If you don't have or know teenage boys, turn back now. I can't be held responsible for what follows.

You'd think that they'd have already broken everything there was to break. But no.Collapse )
I feel:: happyhappy
I hear:: Psych
Carrie Leigh
24 August 2014 @ 08:23 pm
It's been a really fantastic summer. For every year I can remember, I've always been ready for school to start. Being a person that craves peace and quiet, summertime with two boys hasn't always been conducive to my sanity. This summer, though, maturity, personalities and schedules hit the perfect storm. A storm that I really don't want to end.

Shool starts tomorrow, though, and I'll have a 7th grader and a freshman. (How can that be, when I'm only 30?! I have NO idea.) We had lots of one on one time this summer, and even tons of interesting, dare I say, revealing conversations (You have to get boys in the car to talk to you. As long as they aren't looking at you, they'll totally spill their guts). One such chat happened when both boys were in the car. We were discussing what personality traits our family members have that get on our nerves; the boys agreed that Nolan was loud and yells a lot, but when it came time to list my faults, Ethan frowned and said, "You don't really do anything that bothers us. Except when you go all Psycho Mama Bear."

I'm sorry. Excuse me?

He went on to explain what that meant. Evidently when I have asked seventeen billion times for something to occur, for instance - like someone's wadded up, dirty, sweaty, disgusting socks that are shoved in the corner of the sofa to be relocated to the laundry room, and I repeatedly get ignored, then sometimes, mayhaps, after the seventeen billionth and first time, I might raise my voice to a sonic boom and let some small flames escape my eyes.

You know, Psycho Mama Bear. Or in Ethan's shorthand, "P.M.B."

And then P.M.B. stood for something else...Collapse )

You know, come to think of it, maybe I won't be sad that the twerps are going to school. Provided I stay out of the backyard, I may just have a little peace and quiet in the morning.
Carrie Leigh
26 March 2014 @ 04:13 pm
Do you see what I did there?

Oh, internet, have I got a recipe for you.

It's NECTAR OF THE GODS, y'all.Collapse )
I feel:: properly caffeinated
Carrie Leigh
14 January 2014 @ 09:50 am
In a sea of normal and boring, every now and then my life is interjected with nearly lethal doses of exciting. Here is one such instance.

Yeah, it's me being an idiot, again.Collapse )
I feel:: goodgood
I hear:: Leverage