I am waiting to see where this post goes, before I name it. What excitement has occured in my household this week, that is worthy of a post? Well, there is the usual Traumatic Thursday. Anyone who follows my Facebook may have caught my Thursday rant, about how much I hate them. Please understand, this comes from a formerly Home Schooled person, who is experiencing public school along with my kids. When I was growing up, we were told what our daily assignments were, we did them, and we were done. We could sleep in, do our school, and be on our merry way. We had such a free spirited youth, that sometimes I hate sending my kids off, to be cooped up in school all day. And sometimes, I happily toss them out the door, and drink tea in my pajamas while snuggling George. Depends on the day.
Thursdays are the bane of my existance, because my three school children all need to be picked up from various places at different times. In the nicer weather, they can walk. We haven't had a whole lot of that lately, so, slopping through the snow, slush, mud and general misery, we go. Lexi at 2:30, Kaila at 3:00, and Joe at 5:00. For Lexi, we can just sit in the truck and pull around, and the nice school ladies shove your kid in your vehicle and happily wave you off with a smile. For Kaila, one must park, be buzzed into the school, and physicaly see the tutor monitor. Seeing you outside does not count. Seeng you in the front door, does not count. Sending one of your other kids in to get her, does not count. Texting Kaila that I am parked out front, in full view 'See? I am waving from here - see me?', you guessed it; does not count. "I must see the whites of your eyes!" She sings out. (She may have seen extra white in mine, due to all the rolling they do, as I drag George out of the vehicle AGAIN, or he will sit there in full tantrum mode), then buckle him back in, while the inevitable fighting over the front seat ensues, as I stand in whatever slop Mother Nature has shipped our way that particular Thursday, so I can drive half a mile back home. The homework and chore portion of our day begins then. It's terrible.
This past Thursday, I assisted Lexi with a project due the 11th. I was actually pretty proud of myself for getting it done early. It really wasn't optional. According to the 3 page list of directions sent home, along with an E mail, and a letter detailing that we the parents understood this project, it's due dates, it's requirements and our needed particapation in it, that we had to sign and send back the next day, which Lexi forgot, so, thusly recieved a 'strike' for. No stress, right?
The project was suposed to be about France. It could be on a poster board, in a box, or done as a Power Point Presentation. God Bless the parents that do a Power Point for their 3rd grader's school project. We bought a poster board.
Lex did so much research for this project! I was so proud of her, as she had gone to the library and taken out several books, and printed out lots of information from the internet. I had to load a french/english dictionary into my phone, for one part of it, but, overall, she knew her stuff. We put the whole thing together, and wrote out a color coded presentation, to go with it. We were pretty proud of ourselves, umtil I realized I had forgotten to pick Joe up from Cub Scouts, and make dinner. And Lexi hadn't even STARTED her regular homework yet.
Thursdays are hardest on poor Joe. Joe tends to get up between 5:00 and 6:00 AM, so he can have his quiet time, uninterupted bathroom time, and watch Transformers, while snuggled in my chair, without getting screamed at by his sisters, who do not want to ever watch Transformers, and by George, who does not like anyone besides himself and myself in my recliner. After school, he has Cub Scouts, and comes home at dinner time. After which, he has his homework. Which includes a book report and spelling test every single Thursday. It is a miserable experience for both of us. He is overtired, George is overtired, I am stressed out, and nobody wants to do spelling tests or book reports. When his pencil broke for the 5th time with only 15 spelling words the other night, we were both frustrated. At 2 minutes before bedtime, his book report wasn't done, Lexi's spelling test was not done, but we were all DONE.
"But mom!" reminds Lexi, "We still have to practice multiplication problems!" 20 minutes past bedtime.
"NO! I am so DONE with homework! We are ALL done. Enough is enough. Skipping one night of multiplication will not affect your college GPA; it is bedtime; no more homework tonight!"
"My teacher says, that when parents sign our homework, it is because you are saying that all our homework is done. You signed the homework, and now, if you don't do multiplication, it means you are LYING, Mom. And the teacher asks us, too. And we have to tell her that it doesn't get done, because you cannot LIE, Mom...."
"I. DO. NOT. CARE. GO. TO. BED!" And, up the stairs we trooped, with my kids now thinking I am not only a shrew, but a liar, too. Splendid.
Baseball/softball starts soon. I realized during our fun Thursday routine, when I picked up all the paperwork Jasin had brought home from signups, that all the fund raising orders and money were due Saturday. Of course.
It's my own fault, for not looking at it before then. Kaila and Joe each needed to sell 5 things, in a town where every other kid is selling the same stuff. I mentaly calculated bills and my paycheck, and told the kids they were going to have to wander out after school Friday, and sell magazines, wrapping paper, cheesecake, cookies and frozen pizzas. Have fun, kids! They made their goal, sold 10 things between them (Special shout out to both of the babysitters, who, between them, bought 3 things, using different names... awesome girls, they are!) Here we come, baseball season!
Unless getting the house cleaned, and laundry caught up makes anyone else beside myself excited, that is about the extent of anything amazing at our house. Supermom here really outdid herself, proving to the school that I am a liar, forgetting my kid at scouts, having a homework induced meltdown, and trying not to over roll my eyes at the tutor monitor. I rock, right? We can always try again next Thursday - but the Mom of the month trophy isn't going to me this month.
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