Super Mama strikes again. Follow along here.
Monday, George woke up to day three of a nasty fever. It was legitimate, and he was absolutely not able to go to school.
I was absolutely not able to take a day off of work. I had too many complicated patients to try and go through the misery for all involved, to attempt to reschedule most of them in a timely manner. Also, there is no one else in my clinic who is able to do my job.
Lexi woke up and announced that she did not feel well either. I squinted suspiciously at Lexi, but, in light of George's fever, and Joe's recent day full of vomit, I decided to believe her.
"Lexi, you can stay home. Which would help me out, because, I can not. Where is your phone?"
"I don't know."
"Can you try to find it?"
(Unenthusiastic pitiful wandering meaninglessly through the house ensues.)
"I can't find it mom."
"Lex. I cannot leave two sick kids home with no phone. Seriously. You NEED to find your phone."
"I have a phone! I volunteer as tribute!" Offers Kaila magnanimously. "We really had nothing big going on in school today. I can afford to take a day off and help out."
"I have no other option. Fine. BUT: You have to do chores. I mean, laundry, vacuum, sweep...."
"Yeah yeah. Got it. Go to work!"
Apparently, by noon, there was a magical miracle in our household, because, everyone was feeling tiptop and running around outside playing with the gleeful abandon of truants. Nice.
Meanwhile, I was on the phone with the cable company, ordering a landline for the house.
By the time I arrived home that afternoon after work, my front yard, porch, and kitchen, was full of every single kid on the street.
My enterprising children had decided to hit up the after school crowd, and start a kool-aid stand. which became a girl down the street raiding her Mother's freezer for cookie dough, and baking cookies at my house, to add a bake sale to the stand.
After an attempt to share the profits with everyone equally, one child, who had nothing to do with anything, stormed home after only making twenty cents off one sale.
As they swarmed around my vehicle as I parked it, I had the strongest urge to put it back into "drive" and leave. It took a lot of mental fortitude, to open the door and get out.
A quick look around my house confirmed that Kaila had spent the day watching Netflix, and not doing chores.
Fast forward to Wednesday of this week. Both of my daughters were legitimately ill. No fevers, no vomiting, but, very pale. Very miserable. They both laid listlessly on the couch.
"Nope. Nope Nope nope nope nope. You are both going to school. I am still so aggravated about Monday, that I have no sympathy. Get up and get ready." I announced mercilessly. Because, seriously. It has happened more than once during this school year, that my daughters have had grave illnesses that miraculously are cured before mid morning. I think Lexi's has a lot to do with the year long clash with her teacher. It's been a long rough school year. However: They needed to go to school. Where, they subsequently survived.
It was not until I was driving home with Joe after his baseball game last night, that Joe mentioned that Lexi was in trouble with her teacher. Again. And had to call home. Again. This time because she forgot to bring her iPad to school. (I will be the happiest person alive, when this school year is over. Seriously.)
"What? I didn't get a phone call today."
"I know! Because she called Kaila, instead."
"WHAT?"
"Yeah. She called Kaila, and Kaila covered."
The story goes, that Lexi knew there was no way we could leave work and bring her iPad to school. So, with a last second spark of genius, and with her teacher towering over her, she dialed Kaila's number, instead. Kaila was hanging out in Music Theory Class, and caught on to the problem in less than 2 seconds. Kaila then mimicked my voice, and explained that she had patients all afternoon, and was unable to leave work to bring an iPad to school. Lexi thanked her, told "mom" she loved her, and hung up. Kaila's entire class, including the teacher, elevated her to complete "hero" status, and told her that was the best thing they had ever seen.
If I was a good mother, I would have grounded them indefinitely. I would have yelled. I would have punished them. I would have done something. But. I laughed. I laughed so hard that I couldn't breathe. I laughed until there were tears.
Seriously. It's been a long school year. I did come home and tell the girls to not let it happen again. I suspect, however, that the only thing that isn't going to happen again, is mentioning it around Joe. Only three more weeks of school. Lexi has been on the Honor Roll for every single quarter so far. I don't think she will fail sixth grade in three weeks. I am hoping next year is a better year for her. I also suspect that Joe will probably not be assigned to the same teacher, which will be a blessed relief to not only the teacher, but, my entire family, as well. If this guy couldn't deal with Lexi, I imagine Joe would push him over the proverbial edge.
And that, in a nutshell, has been how this week has progressed. I think Lexi's teacher is probably looking forward to the long Memorial Day weekend as much as we are.
Thursday, May 26, 2016
Thursday, May 19, 2016
"God Doesn't Like It When People Tattle"
Last night was one of many many many end of year school productions at the high school auditorium. It wasn't until we were seated and started to observe the children milling about us, that we realized it was also the yearly "Recorder Concert". Anyone with a Fourth Grader in Franklinville, and anyone with an Elementary School Aged child anywhere, will eventually, if they have not already, be subject to the recorder.
The recorder was an instrument that was clearly invented by someone that doesn't really like people who have children, and thought this specific torture device up and patented it to every school every where. I picture people like the mean teacher in the "Maltilda" movie cackling in agreement, that this was the perfect item to send home from school (along with the 47,672 papers every single week) and encourage as much practicing as possible, in order to break the adult population. It's a conspiracy.
Anyhow, after the recorder portion of the concert was the elementary portion of the concert. It had a surprise addition this year. Apparently, last week during music class, Lexi (my flute player) began spontaneously telling music pun/jokes. Her teacher liked it, and had it incorporated into the concert. Every so often, he would have Lexi stand up and tell another one. She was so excited to be asked to do it. She probably laughed harder than anyone in the crowd. But, that's Lexi in a nutshell. My happy go lucky kid has been nicknamed "Joy" in her class.
At work, we started a "One Million Step Challenge". We have from May 8 until September 8, to race to see who can reach one million steps first. So, in the spirit of this, I decided to walk to the school for the concert. The boys decided to walk with me. On the way there, Joe began bring up an entire list of George's most recent transgressions.
"Mom. Every day, when we walk home from school, George walks outside the lines of the crosswalk and taunts the crossing guard and says 'I'm jaywalking!!!'"
"Really, Man? You're gonna bring that up NOW?" George complained, sliding his hand into mine, because he knows I am a sucker for most of his buttering up. "You need to stop, Joe. God doesn't like it when people tattle."
"MOM! I think he is implying that God does not like me. Make him stop."
"See what I mean? NOBODY likes a tattler, Joe."
"MOM!"
Anyhow, while the concert was successful, and every single parent there thought their children progenies, and everything seemed fine - apparently things were not.
Because, at 4:45 this morning, I was lying in bed contemplating walking the dog before work, when I heard Joe get out of bed, run down the hallway, and vomit down the stairs. Repeatedly.
"Joe! Dammit! GET TO THE BATHROOM!!! WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS THROWING UP DOWN THE DAMN STAIRS??!!!!" Was my immediate reaction. (Don't judge. The name of this blog clearly indicates that I am aware of my awesomeness as a Mother.)
"I am TRYING! Do you want me to try and just throw up out my bedroom window?"
"NO! I do not want vomit down the side of the house!"
"Do you want me to throw up on my bedroom rug?"
"GET IN THE BATHROOM NOW!!!!"
"You know, it is much better to get it all over the stairs, then to splatter it all over the entire hallway, and possibly get it on all the books on the shelves up here."
Anyhow, Joe got a day off of school, and was tucked in with a bucket. Shortly after everything was cleaned up, Bearded Man went out the back door to let the dogs out. Our back room is a crazy messed up trigger of my OCD aggravation. It is open to the attic for some reason, and is pretty much used for storage. I have come up with dozens of ideas to fix the craziness of it, but, we haven't gotten around to it yet. Bearded Man was outside for only a few minutes, when he casually called me, and insisted I come see this. Out in the back room, a very upset pigeon stared down at us suspiciously from the attic. "Jasin. That is a pigeon. WHY is there a pigeon in the attic? It better not be scouting a new housing development for all the neighborhood pigeons."
"Bring me a gun."
"NO! You are not shooting birds in my house!!!!"
"Fine. Then, there will be pigeons in the attic. Maybe the cat will clear things out."
I would like to say that the day improved to some degree. But, then the phone calls/texts/emails from the school began.
Apparently, Lexi forgot her homework again. So, her teacher made her call me and confess. I was so busy at work when the call came in, that I was almost aggravated. I watched my phone in resignation, as the inevitable email from her teacher came, to further incriminate my forgetful kid. Then the emails from my poor kid began, as she explained tearfully that she really had thought she had put her homework in her backpack.
Then the texts began regarding George.
"Did you get an email from George's teacher?"
"Not yet. Why?"
Apparently George and another boy were caught doing spitballs in the cafeteria.
When George was interrogated about this at home after work, I didn't mention exactly what I had heard, so, George mentioned getting in trouble for roughhousing in the boy's bathroom, before he got around to confessing about spitballs.
I grounded him from going to his buddy's house down the street, but, they corrected that by having his buddy come to our house and hang out.
The previous part of this post was written yesterday... That whole time thing rarely works for me. Anyhow, today, all my children seem healthy, and, there were no pigeons in the attic. Joe was dressed and ready for school while I was getting ready for work.
"Mom. I think I need five dollars for school lunch tomorrow."
"School lunches do not cost five dollars, Joe."
"I know. But, I want a double lunch. AND, I can have TWO apples."
"Joe. We have apples here."
"I don't want ROTTEN apples, Mom."
"They aren't rotten! MAYBE one of them is soft, but, they are all perfectly fine!"
"*sigh* Mom. You do not store them properly. I cannot eat these apples."
"What?!"
"You store them in a bowl. On the counter. They need to be stored in the refrigerator, where the cold will stall the molecular movement, so that they will stay fresher longer. Also, they taste better cold."
"I am not giving you five dollars Joe."
Back to life as we know it around my house! Mostly I am waiting for the weather to stay warm at night so I can plant my gardens. Every single year, my flower beds start out with so many hopes and dreams. Mostly by the end of August, most of those hopes and dreams are shattered, as my flower beds get taken over by weeds that I am too busy to pull. It's still spring though, so, I have time to change my neglectful ways still. Here's hoping!
The recorder was an instrument that was clearly invented by someone that doesn't really like people who have children, and thought this specific torture device up and patented it to every school every where. I picture people like the mean teacher in the "Maltilda" movie cackling in agreement, that this was the perfect item to send home from school (along with the 47,672 papers every single week) and encourage as much practicing as possible, in order to break the adult population. It's a conspiracy.
Anyhow, after the recorder portion of the concert was the elementary portion of the concert. It had a surprise addition this year. Apparently, last week during music class, Lexi (my flute player) began spontaneously telling music pun/jokes. Her teacher liked it, and had it incorporated into the concert. Every so often, he would have Lexi stand up and tell another one. She was so excited to be asked to do it. She probably laughed harder than anyone in the crowd. But, that's Lexi in a nutshell. My happy go lucky kid has been nicknamed "Joy" in her class.
At work, we started a "One Million Step Challenge". We have from May 8 until September 8, to race to see who can reach one million steps first. So, in the spirit of this, I decided to walk to the school for the concert. The boys decided to walk with me. On the way there, Joe began bring up an entire list of George's most recent transgressions.
"Mom. Every day, when we walk home from school, George walks outside the lines of the crosswalk and taunts the crossing guard and says 'I'm jaywalking!!!'"
"Really, Man? You're gonna bring that up NOW?" George complained, sliding his hand into mine, because he knows I am a sucker for most of his buttering up. "You need to stop, Joe. God doesn't like it when people tattle."
"MOM! I think he is implying that God does not like me. Make him stop."
"See what I mean? NOBODY likes a tattler, Joe."
"MOM!"
Anyhow, while the concert was successful, and every single parent there thought their children progenies, and everything seemed fine - apparently things were not.
Because, at 4:45 this morning, I was lying in bed contemplating walking the dog before work, when I heard Joe get out of bed, run down the hallway, and vomit down the stairs. Repeatedly.
"Joe! Dammit! GET TO THE BATHROOM!!! WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS THROWING UP DOWN THE DAMN STAIRS??!!!!" Was my immediate reaction. (Don't judge. The name of this blog clearly indicates that I am aware of my awesomeness as a Mother.)
"I am TRYING! Do you want me to try and just throw up out my bedroom window?"
"NO! I do not want vomit down the side of the house!"
"Do you want me to throw up on my bedroom rug?"
"GET IN THE BATHROOM NOW!!!!"
"You know, it is much better to get it all over the stairs, then to splatter it all over the entire hallway, and possibly get it on all the books on the shelves up here."
Anyhow, Joe got a day off of school, and was tucked in with a bucket. Shortly after everything was cleaned up, Bearded Man went out the back door to let the dogs out. Our back room is a crazy messed up trigger of my OCD aggravation. It is open to the attic for some reason, and is pretty much used for storage. I have come up with dozens of ideas to fix the craziness of it, but, we haven't gotten around to it yet. Bearded Man was outside for only a few minutes, when he casually called me, and insisted I come see this. Out in the back room, a very upset pigeon stared down at us suspiciously from the attic. "Jasin. That is a pigeon. WHY is there a pigeon in the attic? It better not be scouting a new housing development for all the neighborhood pigeons."
"Bring me a gun."
"NO! You are not shooting birds in my house!!!!"
"Fine. Then, there will be pigeons in the attic. Maybe the cat will clear things out."
I would like to say that the day improved to some degree. But, then the phone calls/texts/emails from the school began.
Apparently, Lexi forgot her homework again. So, her teacher made her call me and confess. I was so busy at work when the call came in, that I was almost aggravated. I watched my phone in resignation, as the inevitable email from her teacher came, to further incriminate my forgetful kid. Then the emails from my poor kid began, as she explained tearfully that she really had thought she had put her homework in her backpack.
Then the texts began regarding George.
"Did you get an email from George's teacher?"
"Not yet. Why?"
Apparently George and another boy were caught doing spitballs in the cafeteria.
When George was interrogated about this at home after work, I didn't mention exactly what I had heard, so, George mentioned getting in trouble for roughhousing in the boy's bathroom, before he got around to confessing about spitballs.
I grounded him from going to his buddy's house down the street, but, they corrected that by having his buddy come to our house and hang out.
The previous part of this post was written yesterday... That whole time thing rarely works for me. Anyhow, today, all my children seem healthy, and, there were no pigeons in the attic. Joe was dressed and ready for school while I was getting ready for work.
"Mom. I think I need five dollars for school lunch tomorrow."
"School lunches do not cost five dollars, Joe."
"I know. But, I want a double lunch. AND, I can have TWO apples."
"Joe. We have apples here."
"I don't want ROTTEN apples, Mom."
"They aren't rotten! MAYBE one of them is soft, but, they are all perfectly fine!"
"*sigh* Mom. You do not store them properly. I cannot eat these apples."
"What?!"
"You store them in a bowl. On the counter. They need to be stored in the refrigerator, where the cold will stall the molecular movement, so that they will stay fresher longer. Also, they taste better cold."
"I am not giving you five dollars Joe."
Back to life as we know it around my house! Mostly I am waiting for the weather to stay warm at night so I can plant my gardens. Every single year, my flower beds start out with so many hopes and dreams. Mostly by the end of August, most of those hopes and dreams are shattered, as my flower beds get taken over by weeds that I am too busy to pull. It's still spring though, so, I have time to change my neglectful ways still. Here's hoping!
Monday, May 2, 2016
Reason 4,981 as to Why I Should Not be a Sunday School Teacher
Yesterday, we concluded year two of Sunday School teaching. I am truly confused as to how I manage to retain my position. Actually, there is a very real possibility that there will be numerous parent complaints regarding the "End of Year Party", and I will be asked to hand in my curriculum, thank you very much.
Or not. I don't think the parents want to complain too bitterly, because, we are terribly short Sunday School Teachers, and, if we lose another one, then, they may be put on the spot to replace me. And, no one wants to be a Sunday School teacher. Therefore, they ship their poor unsuspecting kids to class Sunday mornings, and probably go out to breakfast blessedly alone. (Like I dreamed about doing for fourteen years.)
Anyhow. Yesterday, by popular vote of my class, I hauled in a Subway platter, chips, and cupcakes. Also, we have a TV/VCR in my class room, so, I thought I would bring in a movie to watch. Last week, while we went over review, I let them play with Legos to occupy them while we talked. Next thing I knew, they had built a cross and re-crucified Jesus. I figured maybe it wasn't a good idea to play with the Legos again. I asked Kaila to dig through our video cassette collection, and find something appropriate for Sunday School.
"How about Lady and the Tramp, Mom?"
"No. That is very inappropriate. They run off on illicit dates, there is unwed parenthood, there is a kissing scene. Lady IS a Tramp."
"Oh emmm geee, Mom. Fine. How about Pinocchio?"
"Ick."
"We could do a Shirley Temple movie?"
"I suppose one of those would work."
In going through the movies, I stumbled across The Blues Brothers movie. Right across the front of it "They are on a mission for God" Well. That's just about perfect. Isn't there a nun? Aren't they trying to save an orphanage or something like that? It's been awhile since I saw it, so my recollection was rather fuzzy.
On the way to church, as we bumped over the back roads swerving around the Amish and balancing plates of cupcakes, I happened to look a little closer at the movie.
"Jasin. This movie is rated "R"..."
"Oh! That! That's just because it was made in the late 70's early 80's! It's fine. People were way more strict back then. The movie is FINE. The girls watch it all the time on Netflix. It's a classic! In today's rating scales, it would probably only be a PG. Maybe PG-13 at the most!"
"I don't know.... this IS Sunday school..."
"Nah. It'll be fine."
Into the classroom, I hesitantly mentioned the rated R movie that we had unthinkingly selected.
"Well. YOU selected, Honey." pointed out Bearded Man, his halo glowing brilliantly.
The kids all voted we try it out.
Within minutes, I was cringing in horror, as the most non church appropriate language EVER echoed around my classroom.
"Okay, we need to turn this off." I say
"NO! It's not like we haven't heard it before!" They argue.
"It's FINE, hon, there isn't THAT much language in this movie" Bearded Man pleads.
Being an older movie, the kids begin to question EVERYTHING.
"Is that nun possessed? Is she dead and a ghost? Why is she beating them? Why do the doors close by themselves? Is that place haunted?"
And so the longest Sunday school class in the history of Sunday school classes went. "Kids." I plead, "Maybe you should focus more on the amazing cupcakes we brought in, more than the movie, when you mention today's class over dinner tonight with your parents..." with the internal thought that this only makes me sound even WORSE. Aren't people who tell children to maybe gloss over certain things BAD people?
And so. We closed out the Sunday School year by playing filthy language in church. While portraying a nun to be either possessed or dead and a ghost.
Not sure quite how to even begin going about rectifying this with the Lord.
On to another subject. I've had enough of the Sunday School humiliation for now.
Well. Now that I think about it, that's about it. Well, no. I suppose I could mention the make up episode.
Friday evening, Bearded Man and I were up Buffalo way. We went to dinner at a place featured on "Diners Drive Ins and Dives" awhile back. The food was great, the waitress was wonderful, the neighborhood was fascinating, and, the drunk bar people entertaining. I would absolutely go back.
After dinner, we headed to the Mall. I am not a mall person. I normally avoid them at any cost. However, during Lexi's birthday visit a few months ago, I found a shade of lipstick I can live with, and wanted to pick up another tube of it. So, we headed to the mall.
Once inside the makeup store, a very nice young lady came over to assist. I told her I needed this lipstick, please, and we headed over to find it.
During the course of things, she asks if I need anything else. I told her I didn't think so... I mentioned the "youth serum" that I had bought, because some other young lady had told me it would assist with the under eye circles and bags. I pointed out that I didn't feel I looked youthful, and, that the circles and bags were still there, and I look like I am halfway into the crypt.
"Well, ummm. Maybe if you give it some time to work? I mean, it obviously hasn't worked yet, but, I am sure if you use it for a little while, you should see some improvement..." she said, staring sympathetically at my face.
"I have been using it since February."
"Oh. Well. I don't think it's working for you."
Ah well. I've got the lipstick going for me, so, there is that...
And, that was the weekend in a nutshell. I discovered on "Clean the house Saturday" that, there is no better way to assure your children get nice fresh outdoor air, than to tell them they need to clean indoors...
Happy Monday!
Or not. I don't think the parents want to complain too bitterly, because, we are terribly short Sunday School Teachers, and, if we lose another one, then, they may be put on the spot to replace me. And, no one wants to be a Sunday School teacher. Therefore, they ship their poor unsuspecting kids to class Sunday mornings, and probably go out to breakfast blessedly alone. (Like I dreamed about doing for fourteen years.)
Anyhow. Yesterday, by popular vote of my class, I hauled in a Subway platter, chips, and cupcakes. Also, we have a TV/VCR in my class room, so, I thought I would bring in a movie to watch. Last week, while we went over review, I let them play with Legos to occupy them while we talked. Next thing I knew, they had built a cross and re-crucified Jesus. I figured maybe it wasn't a good idea to play with the Legos again. I asked Kaila to dig through our video cassette collection, and find something appropriate for Sunday School.
"How about Lady and the Tramp, Mom?"
"No. That is very inappropriate. They run off on illicit dates, there is unwed parenthood, there is a kissing scene. Lady IS a Tramp."
"Oh emmm geee, Mom. Fine. How about Pinocchio?"
"Ick."
"We could do a Shirley Temple movie?"
"I suppose one of those would work."
In going through the movies, I stumbled across The Blues Brothers movie. Right across the front of it "They are on a mission for God" Well. That's just about perfect. Isn't there a nun? Aren't they trying to save an orphanage or something like that? It's been awhile since I saw it, so my recollection was rather fuzzy.
On the way to church, as we bumped over the back roads swerving around the Amish and balancing plates of cupcakes, I happened to look a little closer at the movie.
"Jasin. This movie is rated "R"..."
"Oh! That! That's just because it was made in the late 70's early 80's! It's fine. People were way more strict back then. The movie is FINE. The girls watch it all the time on Netflix. It's a classic! In today's rating scales, it would probably only be a PG. Maybe PG-13 at the most!"
"I don't know.... this IS Sunday school..."
"Nah. It'll be fine."
Into the classroom, I hesitantly mentioned the rated R movie that we had unthinkingly selected.
"Well. YOU selected, Honey." pointed out Bearded Man, his halo glowing brilliantly.
The kids all voted we try it out.
Within minutes, I was cringing in horror, as the most non church appropriate language EVER echoed around my classroom.
"Okay, we need to turn this off." I say
"NO! It's not like we haven't heard it before!" They argue.
"It's FINE, hon, there isn't THAT much language in this movie" Bearded Man pleads.
Being an older movie, the kids begin to question EVERYTHING.
"Is that nun possessed? Is she dead and a ghost? Why is she beating them? Why do the doors close by themselves? Is that place haunted?"
And so the longest Sunday school class in the history of Sunday school classes went. "Kids." I plead, "Maybe you should focus more on the amazing cupcakes we brought in, more than the movie, when you mention today's class over dinner tonight with your parents..." with the internal thought that this only makes me sound even WORSE. Aren't people who tell children to maybe gloss over certain things BAD people?
And so. We closed out the Sunday School year by playing filthy language in church. While portraying a nun to be either possessed or dead and a ghost.
Not sure quite how to even begin going about rectifying this with the Lord.
On to another subject. I've had enough of the Sunday School humiliation for now.
Well. Now that I think about it, that's about it. Well, no. I suppose I could mention the make up episode.
Friday evening, Bearded Man and I were up Buffalo way. We went to dinner at a place featured on "Diners Drive Ins and Dives" awhile back. The food was great, the waitress was wonderful, the neighborhood was fascinating, and, the drunk bar people entertaining. I would absolutely go back.
After dinner, we headed to the Mall. I am not a mall person. I normally avoid them at any cost. However, during Lexi's birthday visit a few months ago, I found a shade of lipstick I can live with, and wanted to pick up another tube of it. So, we headed to the mall.
Once inside the makeup store, a very nice young lady came over to assist. I told her I needed this lipstick, please, and we headed over to find it.
During the course of things, she asks if I need anything else. I told her I didn't think so... I mentioned the "youth serum" that I had bought, because some other young lady had told me it would assist with the under eye circles and bags. I pointed out that I didn't feel I looked youthful, and, that the circles and bags were still there, and I look like I am halfway into the crypt.
"Well, ummm. Maybe if you give it some time to work? I mean, it obviously hasn't worked yet, but, I am sure if you use it for a little while, you should see some improvement..." she said, staring sympathetically at my face.
"I have been using it since February."
"Oh. Well. I don't think it's working for you."
Ah well. I've got the lipstick going for me, so, there is that...
And, that was the weekend in a nutshell. I discovered on "Clean the house Saturday" that, there is no better way to assure your children get nice fresh outdoor air, than to tell them they need to clean indoors...
Happy Monday!
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