Sunday School Teacher Smack Down

     I tried the whole "Food Prep" thing last night. I am not entirely sure what inspired it. Possibly it was one of those 90 second videos online that show ridiculously simple recipes. It doesn't matter, I suppose. What does matter, is that, I did "Food Prep".


     Actually. Now that I think about it, it could have also been inspired by a Facebook marketplace post selling workout CDs and weights, and an Ab Roller, all for the handy dandy price of thirty dollars. So, after work one day last week, I went and pulled forty dollars out of the ATM, and then had to break a twenty, and  bought licorice in order to do so. Baby steps and stuff.


     I waited for half an hour in the decided upon spot, for a very nice older woman to show up with the goods. She cheerfully handed it all over, informed me the ab roller was "brand new" because she had bought two of them, thinking her daughter would like one too, but, apparently her daughter didn't. Thus, I was essentially stealing this thing.


     Happily I drove home, chewing on licorice, and thinking about how skinny I was going to be. I hauled everything out of my van, and the Bearded Man began to put the ab roller together. Only to find that the "Brand New Ab Roller" was missing several parts and some screws.
     Seriously. If you can't trust nice old ladies in a parking lot, who the heck can you trust??


     Anyhow. The other workout kit included three weighted bars that can also screw together and become one long weighted bar. Last night, I saw it under one of the beds in the boys' bedroom, as, it apparently makes a fabulous ninja stick.


     Since I was going to be all healthy and stuff though, I decided to try the whole "Food Prep" thing. Also, trying to find time to make lunch in the morning is this side of impossible (for me, anyhow) and, unless I find the energy to do it before bed, it really isn't going to happen. As far as I can tell, half the people I know do this food prep thing, and my social media is constantly filled with pictures of the resulting piles of pre made breakfasts, lunches, and perfection, while I am frantically chucking a can of soup and a banana into my lunch bag every morning.


     So, here were are; How we got to Food Prep.


     Last night, I watched George head up to bed, looking studious in his reading glasses with a book tucked under his arm. The fact that he headed to bed on his own with no arguing, prompting, meltdowns or excuses should have been suspicious, but, I took the opportunity and ran with it. Right into the kitchen. Whipping out a package of chicken, red wine vinegar, and rosemary olive oil made by my newest sister in law's dad - seriously. He grew rosemary for months, for the express purpose of making rosemary infused olive oil for her Bridal Shower. I love the stuff, and, also, he sets the whole parenting bar pretty high for the rest of us...
     I began chopping and cooking the chicken, digging out the new (BPA FREE!) containers I had recently bought for this whole food prep thing, and then yelling at my kids because more than half of them are already missing, and how the hell does this happen when there has been exactly NO occasion to use them for the love of the Good Lord and all His little children????
     I began cooking all sorts of other things, too, to make entire meals. Using two cast iron skillets, a food processor, three chopping boards, most of my knives, cell phone recipes and a cookbook, I finally had made exactly five lunches for this week.


     Here's the part where I could have smugly taken pictures and posted them on all my social media with fourteen hashtags. But, there wasn't a clean surface anywhere in my kitchen to put those containers, so that I could take pictures even if I had the energy. I stepped out for two minutes for something, and, walking back in, realized the full extent of the mess. Every surface was covered in something. Tomato seeds over here, Tzatziki sauce all over there. A dripping food processor, cutting boards. Knives, spoons. The kitchen was a disaster. Piling all the lunches for the week up, I was shocked to find that this entire exhausting mess had reaped five fairly small containers of food. It was a Thanksgiving meal prep for twenty people sized mess, for five small containers.
    
     Is it just me??? I don't know how many Facebook pictures I have seen, of made ahead meals, taken in sparkling kitchens. How did this even happen?? All I can surmise is: I need a kitchen for cooking, and a kitchen for taking pictures of cooking, or, I need to cook, then clean, then haul it all back out of the refrigerator and take pictures, to make it look effortless. That's really the only solution I can come up with. 
     The only good thing I can say here is:

• The chaos of the kitchen drowned out Joe's howls as George tormented him. And vice versa.
• My lunches will be fabulous this week
• I must have burned at least 47 pounds last night.

     After the kitchen was scrubbed down, I looked around and announced to Bearded Man, who had finally deemed it safe to walk in "I am starving."


     "There's hot dogs left over from dinner, if you want some."


     "Okay."


     All that healthy food prep goodness - followed by a hot dog before bed. Gotta start someplace.


     Yesterday was also Week 3 of Sunday School. There was nearly a Sunday School Teacher Smack Down.


     I went to church with a migraine totally brewing. George decided to sing every possible singing part in an opera voice, complete with falsetto on top of his lungs, and, it just went downhill from there. I find that the worse George behaves, the madder I get at Bearded Man for sleeping through as much of church as he possibly can. Which really, in retrospect, makes me the worst person of the entire scenario, because, you shouldn't go to church and get mad at other people in church, especially if you are married to them. Either way, it's a weekly thing. The kids decided years ago that he probably sleeps through church because he's old enough to have lived through the entire bible anyhow. All of this is old news to him, as far as they are concerned.


     After church, comes Sunday School. So, me and my pounding head wandered down to my classroom to get ready. Weekly Sunday School begins with music. During music, I noticed one of my new students standing near her teacher from last year, looking distressed. I am absolutely familiar with this kid, and completely aware that she doesn't handle change well. So, watching her with last year's teacher, I knew we were in for a treat. Last year's teacher would bring lots of snacks, donuts, cookies, cakes, candy, hot chocolate, juice and had a great big prize box, so, every week, the kids were able to pick out a new toy. She is sweet and nice and beautiful and has the best shoe collection I have ever seen. She is so nice.
     Eventually, I watched in resignation as my student and last years' teacher made their way over to me.
     "She's not feeling well...." began last years' teacher


     "She will be okay. It's a fairly common thing for her."


     "Well, I thought maybe I could take her outside with my class and get some fresh air."


     "No, I don't think that's a good idea. She really needs to be present in her own class. I think if we start this, she is going to want to be in your class every week."


     "Well, I think I should take her out of this room, and maybe see if her mother is here."


     'She will be okay, and music is almost over."


     "I think she should maybe go upstairs and sit by herself and collect herself for awhile."


      "I really think she will be okay. She can't be upstairs alone anyhow. It's policy." I said through gritted teeth.


     "I really should just let her be with me for awhile. She's not feeling well, and has anxiety, and I can take her outside and help her." She responded, also through gritted teeth.


     "Seriously. If we start allowing this now, she is always going to want to be with you. She needs to be in class. She isn't going to get used to it, if we haul her up to her mother, or wander around outside, or sit in your room eating donuts every week. She will be just fine. I promise."


     "Well, she's very upset, and, I think I should really step in here and help her. She should be allowed to be with me for a bit..."


     "No. I really don't think so." I gritted, my head pounding. "Listen. I will go see if her mother is here, but, she is NOT getting out of Sunday School. She's been doing this for years - I remember she did this a lot in the grade before yours. Once she settles down, she's fine. She just needs to realize that she will be okay - which she will five minutes into class, and she will be just fine."


     The mother was not in the church still, so, I hauled the child into my room, told her - nicely - I am not a complete jerk - that she could sit and have a bottle of water and collect herself, but, that, she really needed to be present in class, and that I promised it would all be just fine, and that she wasn't going to be able to hang with her old class. She nodded, accepted water, and whipped out her cell phone. Not sure who she was trying to reach, but, I left her there and went back to the music room to collect the rest of my class.


     "So, she's with her mother?" nodded the other teacher.


     "No. Her mother isn't here."


     "oh. So, she's upstairs resting?"


     "No. She is in my room drinking water."


     "But, she's going to be outside at some point, to get fresh air, right?"


     "Yes. As soon as class ends and her mother picks her up."


     "I really think I should take her. I at least feel empathy for her... I had anxiety when I was a kid, too."


     "I feel empathy too, but, we can't let this happen, because then she will want it every week. She was fine the first week of Sunday school."


     "Yes, but you weren't here last week, and Jasin let her stay with me."


    OMG. So. At this point, I was definitely the monster here. With a mental note to chat with Bearded Man about this after Sunday School, I collected the rest of my kids and headed into my room.


     Only twenty more classes to go. *packs Sunday School Survival Flask* And this is why I am going to hell this week.
    

Bridesmaid Wanna Be

     My youngest brother was married this weekend. Preparations were in full swing, and I took the day before the wedding off, to clean the house and get ready for my out of town cousin and her son. I didn't really want to clean anything, so, I decided to visit my sister's salon, instead. I had to drop some things off to her anyhow. The plan was to quickly duck in and out, and get back to housework. But, my sister began digging through my hair like a deranged monkey when I walked in, and announced I needed to get my hair done. "What color will I be this time?" I asked. "Never you mind. That's none of your business." she snapped.
     There was another customer ahead of me, so, I waited and visited. After the other customer's hair was done, the other customer decided she would have her eye brows waxed. And then most of her face, her chin and half of her neck. She was extremely specific, and gave exact angles, "don't take ANY off the TOP of the eyebrows, do this, this, this and this, but NOT that or that, and make sure you don't touch the top. You are touching the TOP OF THE EYEBROWS, Brianna!"
     "You do realize everybody has a little bit of peach fuzz, right?" remarked my sister, rolling her eyes. "Don't forget - I want it in THIS angle on this side, and THAT angle on that side." continued the other customer.
     My sister glared at me sternly while I laughed silently behind the other woman, and then went to work. After waxing everything, the other customer whipped out a humongous bright yellow flashlight/floodlight that was nearly as long as her forearm, and as round as a salad plate and, I believe, the exact same model the actors used while filming Jurassic park in the rainy night scenes, and asked for a mirror to be held above her, while she shined the light at her face, examining everything minutely. "Bri" I said, watching this in fascination, "I don't remember ever seeing that flashlight before. Why haven't you ever offered to let me shine it when you do my eyebrows?"
     "BECAUSE SHE BROUGHT HER OWN FLASHLIGHT, MORIAH! BECAUSE, NORMAL PEOPLE DON'T DO THIS, MORIAH!!!! BECAUSE NOBODY EVER DOES THIS, MORIAH!!!!"


     "Oh. Well..." I said to the customer, "You should really get one of those LED flashlights. I think the light is a little brighter, and, you could probably get a smaller flashlight."


     "SHUT UP, MORIAH!" shouted my sister


     "I did have an LED flashlight, but, it stopped working, so I brought this one, instead."


     "She does this all the damn time." glared my sister.


     I am nearly positive that the only reason this customer isn't banned like all the other customers that drive my sister crazy, is that, it was our mother.


     Eventually my hair was done, and then I went home and became psycho cleaning mom, before making a late evening run half hour away to the store for last minute odds and ends, screeching home twenty minutes before my cousin and her son, Spencer arrived.
     They had no sooner arrived, when Bearded Man hauled Spencer off to a local watering hole, to hang out with his friends. Spencer was still talking about the experience two days later, as they prepared to leave. They apparently arrived just in time to see someone come marching over from a different bar, because he had heard someone at the bar they were at, had said something offensive, and, proceeded to knock the guy out cold. The guy that knocked the other guy out was none other than one of my kids' baseball coaches this year. Fine examples for youth and all that. While everyone watched the police and the ambulance crew at work, the bartender evidently threw out someone's chicken tenders, thinking they had left, and, when they all trooped back into the bar, the owners of the chicken tenders threw an unholy fit, and began screaming and throwing things. When Bearded Man told me about all this the next morning, my comment was: "My cousin is going to kill you." Spencer, however, had a fabulous night, and can't wait to come back and do it again sometime. He told EVERYBODY about his adventures the night before.








     The next day, we all made it to the wedding, held at "Hawk Creek", a wildlife preserve that his new wife is a big part of. Her vulture flew the rings in, during the ceremony. The following reception was absolutely beautiful and very elegant. Every little detail was perfect, and the entire evening seemed to have a little bit of magic in it. The Fisher family being the Fisher family, was the first on the dance floor, and the last off the dance floor. One of my brothers announced "Apparently we were seated as far away from the bar as possible on purpose..." however, the Fishers are nothing if not determined and in shape, so, the trek was no problem for most of the clan.

     Planning for an elegant, formal wedding, back in April, I bought a dress. In thinking about it though, I decided possibly it wasn't the best dress. It was more of a "Southern Church Revival" dress, and really only needed a "Church Lady Hat" and a pair of gloves, to complete it. (Which was heartily agreed by my co-workers.) So, last minute, I went out and bought a different dress.


     Firstly, I need to say: I rarely take "selfies" they are hugely uncomfortable, and, I always feel weird taking them. However, recently, I took one and sent it to Bearded Man, asking him to guess where I was. (I had to kill a few hours recently, and decided to wander around the Botanical Gardens in Buffalo)

     So. Anyhow, this is what I took, with really no special posing. Just, snapped and said "Where am I?" and sent it to Bearded Man.




    

So, I went out, and bought this dress:

                                           Which, was just grand, until I arrived at the wedding and saw
                                              the bridesmaids who all looked like:

And, in horror, I looked like a Bridesmaid wanna be, who had gotten kicked out of the wedding, but was going to show up and wear the dress anyway and cause awkwardness.

Also, I couldn't even look at  pictures of myself the day of the wedding, because EVERY. SINGLE. BLASTED. ONE. OF THEM. LOOKED. LIKE. THIS:

Seriously. All of them. As in: what I look like when I snap a selfie is apparently nothing like what everyone else snaps when pictures are taken. Selfies are evidently lies, and, when I see them on Facebook, I will now wonder what people REALLY look like now.

 

     Anyhow. No one but me seemed to be uncomfortable with my wardrobe choice, and, everyone had a really wonderful time. Honestly, the venue was incredible, and the reception was really amazing. Crazy how all the weddings in our family have all been so different and so unique. And all of them heartily enjoyed by the Fisher clan. I think we're out of weddings for awhile, so, I am not sure what we are going to do for entertainment in our family, but, we're pretty resourceful, so, we'll probably think of something!    

     Till next time!



Sunday School Season Has Begun

     School Play season has begun. It was decided at the end of last school year, that this years' play would be "Beauty and the Beast".
     Originally, Kaila had deeply coveted the role of Belle, but, halfway through things, decided she really didn't want Belle at all.
     Auditions were held this week, and, Joe threw his name in to audition for main cast, along with Kaila. I figured that, being a 7th grader, his chances of a very large part were very small.
     This morning, I received a text from Kaila. She is thrilled to be cast as Mrs. Potts! I congratulated her, and went on with work, before wondering "Oh! What is Joe going to be?" and sent a text to Kaila asking. Her answer had me laughing with tears for literally fifteen minutes. Because, whoever auditioned my kid pegged him perfectly. I couldn't believe he was cast in such a large part, but, I also couldn't think of a more perfect person to play... wait for it:




COGSWORTH!
 




   Even now, writing this, I am still laughing. Just too perfect. I cannot wait to see this play. Seriously.


     Now that school is back in session, that means the schedules are going to start winding up again. I wish I could say that they had wound down for the summer in the first place, but, they really didn't. There wasn't much down time over the summer, either. Because of the insanity of the last several months, my normally organized life has not been. And my normally halfway clean house has not been up to my standards by any means. My flower beds were sadly neglected this year, as was "Clean the House Saturday" - mostly because we were rarely at our house on Saturdays.
     This weekend is IT though. Another brother is getting married next weekend, and my cousin from New Jersey is coming to stay, which is exactly the push I need to clean my house, and dig out the boys' room/guest room.
     Last weekend was going to be IT for all that, but, my children inconveniently all fell ill, and put the kibosh on those plans.
     Except, this weekend, Bearded Man and George are going fishing with a neighbor, Kaila has to babysit all day Saturday, except when she has to go sing the National Anthem for all the football games at school Saturday night, and Lexi fills in, and, Sunday begins Sunday School classes again.
     I can do this.


    Speaking of Sunday School. This year was going to be different. I was prepared. I spent hours one Saturday afternoon this summer, and did my lesson plans for the entire year. Enough with feeling that I was never really qualified to do this. I could and would finally get my act together and teach the daylights out of what will be the biggest class I have had yet. Since no one has thought to dismiss me from my duties, I suspect I am going to be teaching Sunday School until George's Confirmation. Not that I am counting or anything, but, that puts me at about another 8-9 years.
     Anyhow. I had my plans ready, my Sunday School teaching bag packed, new supplies bought, all my extra books at the ready, with answers to questions that I have no answers to, but apparently every 7th and 8th grader ever needs to know.
     8 days before Sunday school started, and, at the beginning of the "Holiday Weekend that was Supposed to be Clean the House Weekend" I woke up to a cheery email from the head of Sunday School. In which we were informed that the new books for our new curriculum were now in and sitting in our class rooms, and, we were all expected to be there for a teacher's meeting the day before Labor Day. And that Sunday school times had changed. Instead of 9:30-11:00 am, it will now be 11:00am until 12:30 pm (You  know, effectively killing most Sundays and any family plans for the entire Sunday School Year, as well as the hours of work I had put into my Sunday School year of plans that I had spent hours and hours on.)
     Looking blearily at my phone, I had to restrain the urge to throw it as hard as I could. And then pick it up and throw it again. But, I figured the Good Lord wouldn't appreciate that. Adapt and overcome and all that. Also, I was trying to be a good Sunday School Teacher for once, so, I figured this was a test. I think I might have failed it, but, on the "up" side, I did not actually write or send the email response I was mentally composing at the time.
     I left the sick children at home with Bearded Man and went to the Sunday School Teacher meeting. The Head of Sunday School is the most optimistically cheerful person ever, but she's also real enough to write things like "Thou Shalt Not Steal" on her classroom supplies. If I was any sort of decent teacher, I would head to my room early and get it all set up, decorated and ready to go for Sunday, but, once again, we've established that I'm really not. Also, the whole house cleaning thing really really needs to happen. So, maybe next year I will try again to be a good teacher, and, possibly attempt to be prepared again.


     Probably the stress of switching Sunday School plans was so horrible because it has been a really rough few weeks. Everyone has the odd bad day or so, but, I was having entirely more than is acceptable, and  my normal optimism was pretty much gone, by the time I received that email. I must have really looked terrible, because a co-worker handed me a bottle of wine and told me I should probably drink it soon. So, I took my bottle of wine with me last night to a "Stained Glass Painting Class" put on by the local library. I figured I owed my friend Wendy, as, she shared her wine coolers at the last painting class, so, it was sort of my turn. Armed with my bottle and two glasses, I headed over. Wendy wasn't there, but, I ended up sharing it with other ladies at my table. We proceeded to have a lot of fun, and, the entire bottle was gone by the time we were finished.


     Before I tell the next story, please please take it with a grain of salt. I am a pretty relaxed mom with my kids. I truly enjoy their company, and, we tend to laugh a lot. Kaila and I frequently have "Meme wars" via text, and, probably I should be a better example and a little more "mom like" sometimes, but, honestly, we will laugh so hard, while sending memes to each other from across the room.
     The other night, we were doing just that, while also talking in general. "Mom, I need chips." Kaila mentioned.
     "No you don't. I am not buying you chips."
     "I really really really need chips!"
     "I am really really really not buying  you any!"


Eventually, I got up to assist George with getting his bath ready, and was standing at the bathroom sink when Bearded Man walked in and said "Kaila said you want chips?" at which, without even thinking about it, I swore on top of my lungs. What I had just said had me clapping my hands over my mouth in horror, as Bearded Man and Kaila stood there laughing harder than I have ever seen, partly in shock.
Forgetting completely about George, who was sitting in the tub directly behind me, I walked out and apologized, but, we were all laughing too hard, and I was too horrified to even think about poor George. Ever the antagonizer though, he didn't miss a beat. Later, with the wide innocent eyes of a choir boy, he clasped his hands over his heart and announced he had been traumatized it, and thought he should probably "tell a priest!!" about his mother.


So, that's this episode's reason why I am going to hell.


I know that our church's priest is pretty tech savvy, as, I've seen him playing on his smart phone before church, and hastily putting it in his pocket as he prepared to begin things on Sunday. It is my sincere hope that he never, ever, finds out about this Blog.
I think too, that it's probably a good thing my mother doesn't read it, either...


Alrighty. Wish me luck, in my cleaning and Sunday School endeavors!