Corbin's first broken heart

Corbin has a broken heart, which means his mama has a broken heart.

One morning this week, we woke up to discover two coyotes roaming around in the pasture behind our house. In our backyard, there were feathers everywhere.

I called for Allen and he went outside and came back in shaking his head. He said there were chicken bodies everywhere. And, he couldn't find Buster.

Buster is Corbin's chicken.

Coyotes, apparently, do not come in and kill their prey to eat. Instead, they come in and just kill, leaving bodies everywhere. But, there were a few bodies missing so I guess they did take some with them.

Buster was apparently one of them.

To be sure, Allen looked everywhere, to at least find a sign of Buster's body.

He looked in all of Buster's hiding spots. She wasn't there.

Later, he found some of her feathers. So, we are pretty sure she is gone.

We lost 8 chickens and two ducks. Most of the chickens that were killed were our egg laying ones. And, they had just started laying eggs. We are left with 9 chickens. 6 of them are meat chickens. One is an egg laying and two are little bantam like chickens. One of the chickens, though, was attacked and we may have to put it down. We'll be making that decision today.

We weren't attached to the chickens. But we were all attached to Buster.

We got Buster around Corbin's first birthday. We actually got two chickens. One was killed fairly early on. For a long, long time, we thought Buster was a boy. That's why we named her Buster! But then she started popping out eggs and fooled us! Anyway, Buster was meant to be a pet for Corbin. She was meant to help teach him responsibility while also giving him his own little pet. He loved Buster. He'd pick her up and carry her around the yard. She didn't even care. He also put her in the little basket underneath the stroller and rode her around. She didn't mind that either.

Buster was special.

Buster got so comfortable with us, she would walk right in the house when we opened the door. Corbin loved it. He'd grab her and run to his room, show her around and have some serious conversations with her. Then, me or Allen would have to go in there and explain to him that chickens can't come in the house and we'd have to take her back out.

Most mornings, the first thing Corbin did was ask to see Buster.

He did that on the morning she was killed. And, we had no idea what to tell him.

He cried and cried and cried. I had to go to work and Allen would let me know how Corbin was doing. "He's still crying, asking for Buster."

Allen eventually told him that Buster went to be with Jesus and thought he'd convinced him.

But the next morning, Corbin asked for Buster again.

We are all sad. Our poor little boy is so heartbroken. We told him we'd get him another chicken but he said he wanted a frog!

I bet he'll end up getting a frog. But I bet we'll still find him another chicken.

But there will definitely never be another Buster.

School

Corbin is officially in school!

It's bittersweet, really. I'm so excited that he's going to a place he can be around other kids and gain a little bit of knowledge, other than what his daddy is teaching him at home. Allen has done a great job prepping him for school though. He already semi knows some numbers and colors but now, he'll be able to learn a little more independence and he needs that badly.

I was all excited about school. I was so ready, until the day got here.

Last week was the worst week I've had in a while. My emotional state of mind was off the charts. If you can test craziness, I would have failed last week. I was, and sorta still am, an emotional blubber of mess right now. Corbin going to school has broken my heart. It means he's growing up and I don't know when all that happened.

I'm proud of him though. The first two days of school were rough. Allen and I both took him the first two days and we walked him to class. He screamed his little head off, to the point, he had me in hysterical tears. The first day, Allen had to practically drag me out of the school. The second day, I refused to walk him IN the classroom. Instead, I stood outside and let Allen walk him in. As Allen left, I could hear Corbin's screams and again, I fell into a fit of crying myself. I don't know what the heck is wrong with me!

The third day, which was the second week (he only goes twice a week), Allen and I both took him but we didn't walk him in. Instead, we dropped him off at the door, as requested, and his teacher came and walked him to class. That went a lot better. Corbin reached his little hand out and grabbed mine and started screaming "mama!!!!" and of course, that sent me into tears as we drove away. Just for the record, Corbin hasn't seen me cry. I've been able to contain myself until after he's gone. Lord knows how hard it would be for him if he saw me crying!

The third day when we picked him up, the teacher said he did much better. He only cried a few seconds and was better.

On the fourth day, I took Corbin to school all by myself. I dropped him off at the door and the teacher came and took him out of the van. He gave me a high five goodbye and as he got to the door, he turned around and waved and said bye! Of course, that too, sent me into tears and as I drove off, I started thinking how much easier it was this time around (for Corbin anyway).

The difference, I believe, is that the last time, Corbin left ME. I didn't leave HIM. So in his little mind, he's all mr. big boy saying bye to me instead of me taking him somewhere and dumping him. Not that significant of a difference really but to him, it is.

So ain't that something!

Anyway, I'm thinking in another week or so, I'll be able to drop him off without me crying! I hope so at least. In the meantime, I am going to have to go on some type of medication to get me through this milestone.

Mirrors in gyms

So, it's been maybe 6 weeks since I started working out and the first thing I will say is that my butt is still the same size as it was 6 weeks ago, as is my stomach and everything else. So, in regards to losing weight, it's not happening.

But, I do feel better when I work out so that's a plus.

Part of the problem is finding the time to go to the gym. My job is demanding and so are my kids. Sometimes it seems I am doing something horrible when I make time for myself to go to the gym. So I'm lucky if I can go 2 times a week.

There's no set time for my gym schedule. I go when I can. Sometimes that's early in the morning. Sometimes it's on my lunch break and other times, it's after work. I go when I can.

I try to go when no one else is there because I'm self conscious and I do not want people look at my jiggly body parts when I'm exercising.

This week, I was all alone and I felt pretty good about my little 11 minute walk on the treadmill. At the five minute mark, the treadmill speeds up for 2 whole minutes and I'm at a very super fast walk. This time, I decided that since I was alone and no one could see me if I went flying off the treadmill, I'd do a little jog. And that's what I did. I started jogging and I jogged for a whole minute and a half. Then I noticed the mirror directly in front of me and I stopped.

So, I got to thinking, who the heck puts mirrors in gyms? And WHY? Who wants to look at themselves working out?? I sure don't! It's disgusting and it doesn't do much to motivate me.

I've always hated mirrors. They freak me out. When I was young girl, someone told me that bloody mary story. If you haven't heart of it, you look in a mirror and say "Bloody Mary" three times and something really scary happens. Bloody Mary has traumatized me for life! Bloody Mary and that Devil Went Down to Georgia Song. If you want to make me scream like a little sissy girl, those two will do it. Seriously.

So any mirror that is large in size is my enemy and I do not like it. But not only that factor, the whole watching yourself work out is just weird to me. I don't understand how even the most in shape, skinniest person in America would want to see themselves work out. I am pretty sure I make some awesome faces when I am lifting weights. So no thanks on sticking a mirror in front of my face while I try to rid my body of fat rolls.