Memories and Stuff

     Another Sugar Cookie Day has come and gone. It wasn't quite the mess it usually is. Mostly because there was limited participation by the seven children involved. Mostly, they spent the day arguing or looking at various electronics. Usually, we confiscate the iPads that the school sends home, (which have become the bane of my existence) for the weekend, but, I forgot this weekend, and, they were out in full force.
     Occasionally a child would come into the kitchen to assist. One of my nieces fashioned a sugar cookie head stone for my sister, because, "Smoking kills, Aunt Bri."
     Mostly they argued all day. About who got which sprinkle color. (Next year, I am just going to have everyone just bring their own. This was traumatic.) About who got which frosting color. About this kid not playing with that kid. This kid said something mean to that kid, so, that kid said something mean back, and now this kid is crying, and everybody is mean. Mostly we told them to get out of the kitchen and stop interrupting. Because we were in the kitchen, we apparently missed fights over who got to sit in my recliner, who got to play video games next door, and, the very best: who got to play with legos in the boys room.
     Bearded Man was out hunting most of the day. He was pretty exhausted by it all, so, he came home and took a nice long refreshing nap, to recover from a day in the woods. He missed most of the fighting happening right outside the bedroom door. He must have been very tired.


   
      Just getting to Sugar Cookie Day was traumatic. The day before, when I should have been happily whipping up nine batches of sugar cookie dough, I was battling a horrific 2 week long migraine. (Today is 17 days and counting. It happens.) and a ridiculously painful toothache. Like, seriously, I was in tears over a toothache. It was awful. Anyhow. I also learned last minute, that Lexi's flute needed to be fixed, and, it needed to be repaired soon, as, she needed it for the school concert and to practice for upcoming solo fest. So, home from work I went, Lexi and her flute hopped into the van, and 30 minutes right back to the same area I work, we went. We dropped off the flute, which took less than 5 minutes, and headed the half hour back home. Where, I commenced cookie dough making.
     During the mixing of the first batch, my hand held mixer, with me for at least the last 3 or 4 years, seized up and died.
     Bearded Man offered to run to one of the local Dollar stores and pick up a cheap mixer to get me through the rest of the dough.
     I hooked it up and plugged it in, and the kids all stood around watching. I had it for less than three minutes before I tiredly said "Jasin. I think it's on fire." Everyone stood there in horror, as, smoke billowed out of the mixer, and the smell of burning plastic took over the sugar and vanilla scents previously perfuming my kitchen.
     "I am returning this! It lasted less than five minutes! I want my ten dollars back! Save the beaters, because I am taking it back."


     "While it's on fire??? Get it OUT of the house!"


     "Seriously! Lasting less than a few minutes is ridiculous! I am not swallowing the cost of this! I am taking it back!" He yelled in outrage, waving the smoking appliance around


     "GET IT OUT OF THE HOUSE FIRST!"


     "Seriously! Ten dollars could buy - "


      "JASIN! GET THE MIXER OUT OF THE HOUSE, BEFORE IT REALLY DOES BECOME MORE THAN SMOKE! PUT IT OUTSIDE!"


     "Make sure you save the receipt!"


     "Get. It. Out."


     "Get your coat on. We are going to Wal Mart and getting you one a stand mixer. I am not playing around with this anymore."


     Not one to let an opportunity for a new kitchen appliance go to waste, me and my headache and toothache tugged on boots and threw on a coat and hopped in his truck.


     We are now the happy owners of a red stand mixer, and my cookie dough was made in short order.


     The day after Cookie Day was another Sunday School Day. I nearly dread them anymore. Anyhow, this week's lesson was the 4th and 5th Commandments. We had gotten to number 5 - "Thou Shalt Not Kill" and, as soon as I read that off, Kaila, who was sitting in the corner, reading, looked up and sighed "Well, great. There goes my weekend plans." and it went downhill from there. During this lesson, the discussion came up that talked about how violence begets violence etc, and, how a calm reaction can stop a violent outcome, or something along those lines. Respect and all that...

     "For instance" I began "I have a coworker that I love to itty bits. But, she's a smoker, and, when she comes in from smoking, she sprays fabreeze, or whatever, all over the place. It causes terrible headaches, and, sometimes, it's really hard to deal with it. I've talked to her about it, but, she gets a little touchy about it, and really doesn't stop. How do you think I could deal with this in a kind way, to try and get someone I really do like, to stop this? Can any of you think of a solution?"


     "You tried being nice. That didn't work. You really need to get mean at this point." One student began.


     "Take one of those aerosol cans of room spray, and, right before you leave for the day, tie a zip tie around the trigger handle so it won't stop spraying, and throw it in her room and run out of the building!" advised another.


     "Write her up!"


     "Turn her in to the boss!"


     "Steal it while she's outside smoking!"


     "You guys!!!!!!" I gasped in horror, "Did you learn NOTHING today?????"


     "Nice guys finish last!"


     "Wear a face mask."

    "Get a new job?"


     "Okay. Your homework this week, is to come up with a KIND and PEACEFUL solution to this problem, that will not cost me my job or a friendship!"


     Anyhow. Next week is the Christmas party. That shouldn't be too traumatic. I plan to fill them up with junk food, and park them in front of Charlie Brown and Rudolf. Merry Christmas to me!!!!!


    I am going to go down in history as the worst Sunday School teacher ever.


    Alrighty. Breaks over. Till next time!


    
    

I Have No Idea Why the Neighbors Keep Moving!

     We made it through Thanksgiving! The high point being when I had to explain to my very full dining room that Joe was trying to put salt on Lexi because he had decided she was a slug, and, that's how you kill slugs. Something we had only discovered the evening before, when she started yelling at him for shaking salt in her hair while she sat at the kitchen table. Honestly, I am not sure if it was that I actually found it that funny, or, if I was really over tired, but, I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe during the telling of it.
     You know. Warm holiday memories and stuff. Why wouldn't Joe be throwing salt at his sister?


     While family arrived, my sister was watching "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation" on TV. The similarities to the Griswold Family and the Dick Family were remarked upon. "Yeah. You'll notice that the house next door is up for sale again. This will make the forth time it's been for sale since we've lived here... Honestly, I think we bypassed the Griswolds, and are more along the lines of the Brother in Law..."
     The neighbor's house actually sold the other day, so, within the next few months, a new family will be moving in. I suppose they will figure the craziness out eventually. And, either join us or hate us. These things could go either way.

     Oh, let's see. With Christmas right around the corner, there has been some Christmas related activiy or other every single day since last Saturday so far. The other day, it was "National Cookie Day", and I had to stop at the store on my way home anyhow, so, I grabbed two trays of cookies for the kids, "just because". I did not realize that one entire tray was full of nothing but coffee flavored cookies. I didn't even know that was a "thing". Long story short: maybe cookies made primarily with coffee is not the best thing to give your kids only hours before bedtime. Or, anytime, really.


     Speaking of cookies, this approaching weekend is the yearly "Sugar Cookie Day" at my house. Which is what everyone excitedly calls it. My nephew wrote a paper about it for school. I tend to think of it as "The Day my House gets Trashed, My Feet Hurt, and, the Beginning of the Two Months it will Take to Clean all the Sprinkles" Honestly this tradition started before we even had kids, and my sister would come over to my first appartment and we would make cookies right before Thanksgiving every year. It's lasted 20 years now, and, we've only missed a few years! I have already informed my kids that I fully expect to kidnap my Grandchildren for this some day.


     I am taking a vacation. Seriously. Eleven whole days of not going to work. I almost didn't. I actually thought about just canceling my time off request, and saving the time off for emergencies. But, the thought occured to me - I haven't had any real break since I started my current position over four years ago. (The yearly trip to Black Lake does not count. That is NOT a break, and, as I told Bearded Man the other night, I actively dislike him by the end of Black Lake week every year.)
     Anyhow, I think burn out is pretty much settled in. So, I am taking the eleven days off, and I plan to spend as many of them at home, not leaving the house, as possible. I cannot wait.


     With the Christmas season, come Christmas lists. "George, have you made your list for Santa yet?" I asked the other day.


     "It's secret."


     "What do you mean, it's secret? What are you asking Santa for this year?"


     "It's secret! I am not telling anybody."


I eventually happened upon him studiously writing a list. It consisted of:

• A Four Wheeler
• Pokemon cards
• Beer cans
• Venison jerkey

I have no idea why all the neighbors are moving away from us...


     Bearded Man and I did some shopping last weekend. There was no beer or four wheelers bought, just so we are all clear on that.
     Bearded Man also had his first foray into Sephora. For someone in his line of work, who deals with all things gross all day, I was slightly shocked at his reaction to the chemical and overpowering heady scents that made breathing difficult, emitting from Sephora. Gasping, he stood at the check out, while I nicely informed him that our all about make up kid, Kaila, cannot wait until she turns 17, and is able to work there. He couldn't get out of that store fast enough. There were several comments about the clear lack of safety, working in such a terrible place. I figured he had pretty much hit his breaking point by then, and we went home shortly after the trauma of Sephora.


     Oh, what else. Sunday School continues. I have a few students who pretty much do not want to be there, and, make life as miserable as possible for the entire class. I find that I dread Sunday School, and, I don't believe any learning or any good has come from it at all this year. It is mostly spent trying to get a select few to behave. One in particular. I suppose there is the chance that he will grow up to become a priest, but, the odds aren't terribly good so far. Ah well. My entire class moves up next year. Maybe there's hope for the next class. I suspect this will all come back to haunt me on judgement day. "Ummm, Moriah, is it?" "Yes, St. Peter" "And, did you really threaten to beat one of your Sunday School kids with his own hockey stick if he didn't knock it off immedietly?" "Well, in my defense, there was no actual hockey stick present, sir." Will be my last words before the button is pushed, and I am sliding straight into hell.


     Ah well. That's pretty much all the excitement for now. If I don't knock out another one of these things before Christmas, hopefully everyone has a great whatever they celebrate!