College Tours: A Big Fat NO, and a Hopeful Yes

This week I took my oldest baby to tour St. Cloud State, and the University of Minnesota. Our first stop was St. Cloud State. The directions they gave us easily led us to the parking lot. The admissions building was right there. I get lost in my own backyard sometimes, so I was thinking this is a big win! Noah was not so impressed, as you can see in his photo.

We walked into the admissions office and there were five other freshmen to be. They all looked like they should be freshmen in high school. First we listened to the "selling points". The guy giving the speech was 26-years-old. He mentioned "I had so much fun. I met so many people, (insert laugh). It was a lot of fun." 15 times. Yes I counted. I started counting after the third time he said it. He said he was a psychology major, and also got his masters and had jobs waiting for him before he graduated. All I could think was, if you had a job waiting for you, why are you doing a work study job a college kid should be doing? He did say it was affordable at $8,000 per year, and the average class size is 18- big pluses in my mind. He also said a guy he knew had a 2.1 GPA (C average) and ACT score of 16 and got a $750 scholarship. I'm thinking "WOW! Noah can probably go for free, because he has a 4.0 and a way better ACT score." Noah's thinking, "This college is full of dummies." The guy couldn't tell us much about the meal plan or dorms because he lived off campus. He did tell us, "I knew guys who lived in the dorms and we'd get a whole bunch of us and hang out in the dorm and it was a riot" Once again I'm wondering why is this guy the sales person? He ended his speech with "That was only 20 minutes. I wish I had an hour to talk to you guys." I looked at my watch. He did talk for an hour. Apparently they don't teach elapsed time, or time estimate at St. Cloud.
The next part was the walking tour. The person giving the walking tour was one of five international students. I could not understand a word she was saying, which is saying a lot because I work with english language learners. I kept wondering, why would they have one of the five students on campus who can't speak english give the tour? The campus is pretty condensed, so not a lot of walking in the bitter cold for Noah, which I liked. It took the twelfth time of her calling the dorms the "rensvolds" before I realized it was the "residence halls". The dorms were tiny; tinier than the average dorm. I really didn't get much out of the tour because I couldn't understand her. I wondered if the college thinks she was a good tour guide, if they'd have a lot of  professors that are hard to understand. We actually left the tour early because we had to get on the road to U of M. I asked Noah what he thought, and he said, "It's a slacker/party school." - Not ideal for pre-med.

Next stop, University of Minnesota. The GPS led us right to the parking ramp, where the entrance was under construction. Noah has great navigation skills, so he got us in the ramp. Somehow Noah knew where to walk to find the admissions office. I read a sign that said, "U of M is spread out among 68 blocks." I'm fairly certain we walked 64 of the 68 blocks to find the admissions office. Right away I was much more impressed. It was a lot more professional, and the kids looked age appropriate. We were led to the room with the slide-show selling the campus. While we waited it showed fast facts about U of M. Did you know where post-its were invented? U of M. How about the retractable seat belt? U of M. Fluoride toothpaste, the Black Box, and the Nicotine patch we all invented at... University of Minnesota! Right away during the selling speech, I know this is the place for my baby. It would not be the place for me, since it is very large, I get lost, and I'm more of an introvert; but it fits Noah perfectly. It's very competitive. You need a 27 ACT score, and be ranked in the top 95% in your class to get accepted. The tour guide was wonderful. I could understand her. She had a friend from Moorhead, so she asked Noah about being a "Spud". There is a bus system, underground tunnel, and metro system to take them everywhere they need to go. It's like a little city within the city. There will be a lot for him to do. He'll get a good education. It seems to be the perfect fit. Now I only have one more year with my baby living at home. I'm going to watch him while he sleeps and cherish each moment until next August. Then I'm planning on laying down and throw a tantrum on the day he moves into the dorms...

Beginning or the School Year Vs. End of the School Year

Last night began my yearly back-to-school nightmares, I mean dreams. In the most recent one, I was three hours late to school and all of my past principals, some student teachers, the superintendent and the guy who is in charge of the North Dakota Educator Licensing were there to observe how I use ENVOY, a nonverbal classroom management technique. Obviously arriving 3 hours late is not part of the program. I was teaching kindergarten again, like in ALL of my back to school nightmares, even though it's been ten years since I taught kindergarten. I had 25 kindergartners, and three did not know their names. None of them would listen and they kept running away from me while I was focusing attention to how I stood and used hand gestures (a big part of ENVOY). I didn't have a class list to take attendance. When I started taking attendance, a former principal yelled at me saying, "We don't waste time taking attendance anymore. You're worthless." Then the guy from the licencing department told me I should hand over my licence because I suck at ENVOY... Then I woke up. I really don't feel like I am bad at ENVOY, nor do I need to worry about what a former principal says, nor do I teach kindergarten, so I'm not sure what this last dream meant, but all of the back to school dreams are the same; a disaster. Sometimes kids are standing on the tables, sometimes they don't even belong in my class, one night I even yelled out, "STOP EATING THE MARKERS!" Maybe it's the anxiety and unknown of the beginning of the year. This made me think of how I am at the beginning of the year compared to the end of the school year, so I made a list:

Beginning of the year (BOY)- "I can't believe that teacher is yelling at her students to stop running down the hall. They're just little kids."
End of the year (EOY) - "I shall destroy all running second graders! They better get that out of their system before next fall!"

BOY- "You forgot your homework again? That's fine. Bring it in whenever you can."
EOY- "You forgot your homework again? That's fine. You can do it during lunch with me while I eat and pretend to laugh at imaginary things on my computer to create a facade that I have a life."

BOY- "I'm going to make 30 cupcakes for each child's birthday."
EOY- "A pencil, birthday sticker and a high five is celebration enough."

BOY- "I'm going to write out detailed lesson plans including thought provoking learning targets, and keep a running list of the standards I am teaching, as well as an "Essential Big Question" for the children to ponder while learning with each subject I teach."
EOY- "I'll glance at the resource 10 minutes before teaching it."

BOY- "I am going to buy all of the new cute decorations ever!"        
EOY-  "I am going to laminate the heck out of every poster I use so I'll never have to buy another decoration."

BOY-"I have organization under control. Everything is even color coded using my theme colors."
EOY- "I'll just put it in a pile in my hoarder cupboard (my coat closet)."                                


BOY- "Teaching supply stores are the BEST!"                                  
EOV-  "I hate teaching supply stores. They make my paycheck disappear."

BOY-  "Teaching is like Mr. Holland's Opus, Freedom Writers and Dead Poets Society."                       EOY-  "Teaching is a mix of Children of the Corn, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, and Snakes on a Plane."

BOY- "Look how clean my car is."                                                      
EOY-  "I have 21 empty cans of Dt. Mt. Dew, 18 food containers, and a box of 'school stuff'' I've been meaning to go through one weekend in my car..."

BOY- "I can't believe that news story about the teacher who started his day with a mug full of vodka."
EOY- "I totally get why that guy started his day with vodka... Yet I would not emulate because then the kids would win the battle AND the war..."                                

BOY- "Thanks, but I don't need any construction paper. I don't  think we'll be using it anytime soon." EOY- "Sure. I'll take that construction paper. I don't know when we'll use it, but I can put it in my hoarder cupboard (AKA My Coat Closet)."

BOY- "Oh no! A scary parent meeting WITH THE PRINCIPAL How am I not meeting all of his/her needs. Initiate sweat mode, death take me quick. Hopefully they won't show up.
EOY- "Yawn. A scary parent meeting. Hope they show up on time."

BOY- "I only need one stapler in my room."                                        
EOY-  "NO you can't borrow my stapler! I only have eight!"

BOY- I'll miss summer, but I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE POSSIBILITIES OF A NEW YEAR!"  
EOY- "I'll miss these kids, but BRING ON SUMMER!"                                    

BOY-"I am going to wear the cutest teacher outfits ever!"                  
EOY- "Orthopedic shoes are my best friend. Is today the day for my GOOD sweatpants?"

BOY- "I'm going to use a whole sheet of paper for a five  question quiz and make 24 copies."               EOY- "I'm going to fit FOUR  five- question quizzes on one piece of paper and only have to copy 6. Then I get to use the GUILLOTINE!- I mean paper cutter.

Blame Canada

I love summer. I love summer partly because I don't have to try to convince 8 and 9-year-olds that it really is in their best interest to learn to understand what they read, and the importance of being able to multiply. It's partly because I get to spend it with my children, and partly because I loathe cold weather. I LOVE sunshiny days spent in the pool. The sunnier the better. For a week now, I have not seen the sun. The weather channel, and the weather app on my phone tells me it is sunny, but I can't see it. Why? The Canadian haze. There are wild fires in Canada and the smoke is drifting south to my backyard, more accurately, the tri-state area. It's like a really thick fog that doesn't go away, smells like a campfire, and burns your eyes and throat. It's so bad that our area has been the winner of  the Worst Air Quality in America for the past week. One of my facebook friends posted a photo of her parents lake view. It is a rectangular image that is light grey with a shadow that resembles a tree off to the side. She had the caption, "Canadian smoke effect on the view of my parents' lake place".  I said, "When will the Canadian wild fire burn out, or at least keep the smoke to its self?" Am I blaming Canadians? No. I don't blame them because they don't have Smoky the Bear telling them only they can prevent a forest fire. Them and God since the fire started during a lightning storm. One of her friends responded, (please note I have corrected the misspellings and grammar) "Just for the record the smoke is coming from Northern Saskatchewan where they are having trouble containing fires that have been started by lightning. There are thousands of people out of their homes and will not be going back to. As a Canadian I find it rather upsetting that you Americans think we are trying to smoke you out."  Huh. As an American I find it upsetting you don't have a sense of humor. I understand that the fires are upsetting, but now that you mention it, I do feel like I'm being smoked out. I did not mean to offend anyone, I simply want mother nature to rain or change wind directions. I even Googled, "why don't Canadians have a sense of humor?" and MANY, MANY articles turned up. It's not that they don't have a sense of humor. They think Jim Carey is hilarious... So, that means their sense of humor includes a lot of reference to the words "poop" and "under ware". Their sense of humor is equal to a room full of second-grade boys. To be fair, I've also Googled, "why are so many Americans ignorant?" The first reason is because we believe in the Bible.  Not very valid. But the Canadian one probably is. I've met probably five Canadians. One was in Hawaii while we were on a snorkeling tour. When they found out we were from Fargo, they felt the need to one-up us because it's actually colder there. Really? That's like trying to argue with someone that your farts smell worse. Who would want to be the winner in either category? Another time I met Canadians was when I worked at the local grocery store in college. Being close to Canada, we used to have the Canadians come down to shop in the '90s. I sold a lady a pound of deli ham that cost (we'll say) $3.00.  She said, "I'll give you $2.25". Ummm. NO! This is not a flea market. It is the SUPER market. She told me to keep my *&^% ham. I worked with a Canadian once. She thought all Americans were beneath her, and we are raising generation after generation of idiots (this was before we started to). She also said "again" really weird, and I couldn't stop giggling every time she said it. I used to ask her questions which I knew the response would include "a-gane'. I always wondered how she could think Canadians were so superior. Canadians didn't land on the moon, invent Microsoft, or had a vice president who invented the Internet. So I will sit here in my backyard with my eyes and throat burning, believing in the Bible, and thinking up a whole bunch of ironic things about Canada and their fires so I can take that show on the road. Preferably in Minnesota, where the USA has that square shaped bump that goes into Canada.

10 Times It Has Been Worse

Every year around this time, I get what's known as the "fall panic". I panic that the kids aren't learning, I'm not reaching them, or they think I'm a witch.
Starting at a new school, and being able to leave the place that will be the setting of my future book titled, The Place Where My Soul Went to Die: My Bitter Memoirs, has been nothing short of amazing. Working at a place that is so positive and professional, along with getting a pat on your back instead of stabbed in the back after working so hard, and coupled with the wonderful people I work with; I truly feel blessed. I didn't realize how miserable, or how toxic my old school was until I came here. My teaching partner is not only a phenomenal teacher, but a good person. She shares ideas and is not in constant competition of who's-the-most-popular-teacher-and-can-get-the -PTA-to-give-them-gifts-on-the-side. The strategist is my best cheerleader, and a riot to be around. The staff truly assumes everyone always has good intentions, rather than assuming the worst in everyone. My new school is refreshing. That being said, it is late in the fall, and my students have just recently mastered walking down the hallway like humans. If you are a teacher, you know the secret. If you are not, I'll let you in on it. Teachers, well, I myself, feel a little bi-polar at the beginning of the year. Sure you are hopeful for what the new year might bring. The smell of fresh waxed floors, and shiny new notebooks, and fresh pencils are enough to raise my serotonin so I don't think I need my bitch-be-gone pills. However. The younger the grade, the HARDER it is at the beginning. You are responsible for 21 other people for a full 8 hours. Please note- each class has different extremes, but it's rare to get a class that doesn't follow this pattern. At the beginning of the year, you can't turn your back once. You can't assume they know how to walk down the hallway, you have to schedule bathroom breaks for yourself, and actually eating lunch is a silly idea that really won't happen until around Christmas. You have to teach the kids EVERYTHING about "doing school". You are an entertainer, an actress, a mom, nurse ("you are FINE!"), a counselor, a judge, and a mentor. You teach them morals, how to treat each other, social skills, manners and hopefully reading, writing and math. It's a lot of pressure. I'm proud to say, my students mostly know when to sharpen their pencils (not when I'm talking), ask to use the the bathroom (not when I'm teaching a new concept), hand in classwork, and homework, and finally how to walk down the hallway like a human. It's the beginning of the year when a teacher really has to be on their game. You may tell them 176 times that they write on their paper, not in Mrs. Fairfield's books, but the 177th time, they might get away with  doing it, so they try. This, my friends, is why I can't ever be gone. If I am gone one day, the sub will let them get away with everything. Then I am back to the first day of school; teaching when/where to use the bathroom, hand in papers, walk down the hall, and in the classroom. Because of this, even when I am sick, I go to school. Teaching is exhausting. Teachers know there is no exhaustion like September exhaustion. This year mine went into October and November. It's times like this, when my car is the last one in the lot, when I go home and I think "I know I'm going home a lot more tired than those kids. I wonder if they even learned anything today". These days is when I have to remember there were 10 times it was worse:
1) The time I forgot to wear my shirt to school. I was teaching at an older school and my room was freezing. I was going to wear a cuddle-dud, (basically long a underwear shirt), and a wool sweater. The problem was I didn't put on the sweater. I was on the phone with my friend when I left the house, got to school, walked to my classroom, took off my jacket and said, "Oh Sh!T! I forgot my shirt!"
2) 99% of the 2012-13 school year was way, WAY worse.
3) 79% of the 2011-12 school year was way worse.
4) The time I thought a kindergarten parent was going to reach over the table and punch me in the face when I had to break bad news to him.- Also known as "the reason I can't teach kindergarten is because I don't like breaking parents' hearts".
5) The time I had a newborn, a toddler, and traveled to two schools to teach Kindergarten, and I was so tired that I burst into tears when a parent asked me to use unscented whiteboard markers.
6) The time I used to let a student sleep, just so I can get some peace.
7) The time someone pulled the fire alarm and I was shocked it wasn't one of my students, - Wait, that was a good time.
8) the time I drove to work and saw two students fake hitch-hiking and flipping off the cars on a very busy street.
9) The time I had a man student teacher and he was more work than the third graders.
10) The last day of school each year. The kids leave me after I have spent 9 months declaring them "my kids". They hold a special place in my heart, yet they just leave as if they are all happy for summer break, after I've just spent so much time, energy and worry on all of them. It's like having empty nest every year...

 I have many, many good memories. I guess the feeling of accomplishment doesn't come without a lot of hard work. Like a wise man told me once- nothing worth having is easy.

Why I Don't Like Halloween

If you are a "regular reader"- (both of you), you may have been wondering where did she go? What's with the hiatus? Well, the day before school started I was sitting in a "teach kids to write" Proffesional Development and a hater from another school said, "I hate it when people have blogs, but they don't have a theme." I decided then and there that my blog is annoying others because I have no theme, so I must stop. It was much like the time a facebook friend said, "I can't stand when people post cat photos." I posted facbook cat photos each day until Mr. Husband would let me have a cat, so I stopped posting cat photos. Then I unfriended her, and now glare at her with my cat-eyes during church. Now I'm taking the advice of a brilliant friend, Stephanie Schuster, "You are not the jerk whisperer, Don't listen to 'em." So I'M BACK!!

Yesterday was Halloween. I used to like Halloween. From Kindergarten through Second grade, I got to trick-or-treat. When I turned nine, the "Poisoned Laced Tylonal" killed some people and my mom was certain all of our neighbors- living in the middle of no where- were lacing their candy with poison and putting razor blades in the candied apples. Which is weird on three levels. 1)We knew our neighbors well, 50% of them were my dad's brothers, and the rest had "card parties" and celebrated all of their children's milestones together. I don't think they'd try to kill me. They'd get caught. 2) If you were crazy and wanted to put razors in the candy, you would probably be living out in the middle of no where. 3) I really think the REAL reason I couldn't go trick-or-treating past second grade is because none of my siblings lived at home anymore and couldn't take me. Walking a mile and a half- one way- for a candy bar is just not realistic. Therefore, a bit of bitterness toward Halloween started at the ripe old age of the third grade. All of my "town" friends had many years of candy ahead of them, but not me. My mom tried to smooth over my feelings by letting me pick out my "own bag" of candy at the store. It wasn't the same. It wasn't dressing up like a princess, going to the neighbor's/aunts and uncles and being told you are "so cute", and getting a candy bag full of surprises. It might be dumb candy, like a handful of circus peanuts, but it was still a surprise. You can't sit on the living room floor and sort your "own bag of candy". It's all the same. There is nothing to sort. From then on, I've hated Halloween. it could be my intense fear of  clowns, mascots, mimes, and well anything in a mask. I don't like not being able to see the person's expression, Then the year came when Noah was one and a half. We took him to both grandparent's houses, a great aunts, and the next door neighbors. It was a blast. Fast forward to the year Ethan was three. He didn't know what to expect, and he was typically a little shy, but on that night he FLEW from house to house while combining two of his top five favorite things- dressing up like Spider-man and candy. I liked Halloween until about two years ago because I was experiencing it through their eyes. Now I'm back to hiding from the scary people with masks. Couple that with teaching children on Halloween, it makes for a less-than-festive holiday. During the eleven years of liking Halloween, I had the pleasure of teaching Kindergarten and the excitement of Halloween through their innocent eyes. I want it to be as much fun with the third graders, but it just isn't. In third grade, it's more about getting as  much candy as possible and eating as much as possible in one sitting. It doesn't seem magical like it is in Kindergarten,it's just... not. Maybe that's the REAL reason my mom cut off Halloween in third grade.
If you know me well, you know I make it my life mission, and spend 73% of my energy trying to keep my children from growing up too fast. I, unlike my mom, have not cut off Halloween. Noah tried cutting himself off two years ago, but caved and went this year. Secretly I think, "Are you kidding? You are taller than me. You have no business dressing up for Halloween." Well, I had nothing to worry about with him dressing up, because he went as a Basketball Player. So he dressed like it was a random Tuesday. I opened my mouth to tell him that's not appropriate anymore, but as I looked at him to say it, I didn't see my ninth- grader stressing out while writing the perfect essay about the Bubonic Plague and the Political Effect on the World, but I saw my little boy dressed like a lion saying "Tricker-Treat. Smell My Peet", and I just couldn't tell him no. Maybe a bit of him wants to hold onto his childhood as much as I do.

My First Official Day Thoughts

•       6:00 alarm, you are my EVEREST.
•       Snooze.
•       Snooze.
•       FINE. But only for the children.
•       At least I can finally take this mountain of school stuff that’s been sitting in my bedroom all summer.
•       Okay, what to wear... Betting my summer uniform would be frowned upon, as it does not involve pants.
•       Should I even try to look somewhat decent, or stick with comfy-casual?

Arguments for looking decent	Arguments for comfy-casual
-There might be new people whom you don’t want to think you’re a slovenly old bag	-Comfortable. So, so comfortable. -Takes almost zero time. -You can dress up one day, take a picture of yourself, make copies of it, and distribute to the new people that serve both as gifts and proof that sometimes you don’t look like a slovenly old bag.

• Comfy-casual it is!
• Should I wear my ID? 
• District policy says yes, but is that even for in-service? 
• What if I’m the only one wearing one? 
• Will people think I’m a suck-up if I’m wearing it? 
• Or what if I’m the only one NOT wearing it? 
• I’ll bring it.
• Oh well, can’t find it anyway, so that idea’s out.
• I wonder if anyone got plastic surgery over the summer.
• What? Why is there traffic?
• Oh, because it’s in-service and I’m going to work at a normal human time instead of negative fifty o’clock.
• I wonder what they will have for breakfast.
• I hope banana bread.
• I hope Dt. Mt. Dew.
• I hope a gourmet omelet station.
• I hope a crown royal and keg of beer.
• Hahaha.
• But seriously, I hope there’s banana bread.
• Please, God, if you love me at all, make this a classroom workday.
• YES. KATY PERRY. This is my JAM.
• Aaaand I’m behind that one math teacher I don’t know at a red light. 
• Did he see me singing ultra-seriously by myself in my car as I was pulling up?
• Awkward. Don’t make eye contact. Play it cool. Drink your pop.
• Where are we even supposed to be meeting?
• I’m just going to follow the herd.
• AHHHH SO MANY PEOPLE.
• And they’re all wearing their IDs. Perfect.
• Would it be weird to feign illness and hide in my car?
• I bet I could do a reasonably believable impression of fainting.
• Okay, it’s fun to see people again. Good job, self. You’re being normal.
• Uh-oh. All this interaction with people is making me sweaty.
• Hello, nice to meet you, my name is Ms Clammyhands.
• Banana Bread!!!!!
• Just realized that all my conversations with people sound like this: “HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!” “It’s so good to see you!” “How was your summer?!” “Do you know if we get to work in our rooms today or not?”
• Oh, dear. The Back-to-School speeches/PowerPoints have begun.
• Time for me to pretend like I’m taking notes on this legal pad.
• What should I get at the grocery store?
• What do I need to buy at Home Depot to be able to fix that broken metal bookshelf in my classroom that is waiting to give me tetanus?
• What do I want to name my children if I were to have one more boy, or a girl?
• What will I name my future pets?
• Where will we eat lunch today?
• I seriously can not name a single one of my own children's teachers. 
• Oh well, middle school and high school don't count that much. 
• Let’s doodle a crossbow-wielding panda.
• Geez, who is talking behind me? That’s so rude to talk when someone’s presenting.
• It’s also probably rude to be doodling crossbow-wielding pandas.
• Oh, an inspirational video!
• I AM TOTALLY READY TO TEACH THIS YEAR!!!!!
• I think I’m easily inspired.
• I think that means I would make a good cult member.
• Drink the kool-aid.
• I better make sure my principal sees me here so I get credit for being here.
• I don't want to make a scene, but how do I get her attention?
• YES! Classroom workday! Thank you, teaching gods!
• I’m taking another banana bread on my way out

There you have it. My first day...

I'm Living With a Stranger

I'm living with a stranger. I'm fairly certain it happened overnight. My little boy has turned into a full fledged teenager. I still know a lot about Noah. I know his favorite color is blue, he's a handsome boy, and a kind big brother. I know his passion is basketball, and he's smart and wants to go to a "good college"- in his mind means "out of state". I know all of his friends, and their parents. I know he eats and sleeps A LOT, and wants to have bigger biceps. I'm finding out he believes I know very little about everything- because I am always wrong, and he is always right. It's so hard to believe that only five years ago he told me everything that popped into his mind, and now... nothing, except his need for new basketball/football/running shoes and random sports equipment.
Just a few years ago he used to argue with his brother about who got to sit closer to me on the couch. In fact, I bought a bigger couch so they wouldn't have to share me. Now he uses that same couch to sit as far away from me as possible. I miss him, and he is sitting in the same room as me. When he walks up the steps in the morning I don't see the tired 14-year-old that he is. I see the 4-year-old that he was stomping up the steps demanding to know where Kitty is, and why he pooped in his room. As we are sitting at the supper table and he informs us that we need to pay for basketball, and he's going to start driver's training, all I see is a kindergartner telling us he has to stay away from the licker (Abby) at supper. I know growing up and detaching from mom is totally normal, and if I was his best friend (like he promised me I ALWAYS would be when he was 5) I'd be worried. I never went through this "my life is my own and my parents are only in it because they have more money", mostly because I always felt like my parents' love for me was a flip of the coin. I do one thing wrong, and it was gone. Therefore I have to admit what Noah and I are going through means I did a mostly good job raising him and it's perfectly healthy. I also know it's normal that teenage boys will eventually come back and need their mom, but what if he doesn't? I told him I'd move to wherever he goes to college, then he told me he wasn't going to tell me where he is going. What if he moves far away to college, meets a girl and marries her, and she doesn't want him to have anything to do with his family? He's a people pleaser. It will probably happen.
Last night I as I laid in bed tears started streaming down my face because he grew up too fast. What was I doing when it all happened? I know I didn't pay enough attention to him when Ethan was a baby. I have the video tapes to prove it. How could I have missed it? I'm a teacher, I get home early and I have summers off. Was I blind to his getting older? Did I spend too much time working on my masters, reading, laying in the pool, or away from home? How can someone who lived in me for 9 months be a stranger? Everyone says "It goes so fast" when it comes to raising kids. That is an understatement. I spend so much of my life wishing away time; I wish it was Christmas break, I wish it was summer, I wish it was 5:00 so I can drink a beer. Is that how I missed Noah growing up? I think for the rest of the summer I'm going to spend hours staring at both Noah and Ethan. I don't care how creepy it seems, I know they will thank me later.

Keep The Riff-Raff Out!

It is impossibly cold outside. This winter has been horrible. We've had a range of 20 degrees to -60  since the day after Thanksgiving. On the rare days we have 20 degree weather, we have a 80 mile per hour wind with a -700 wind chill, so why bother having 20 degrees ABOVE? The big saying around here, mostly made by people who don't need to leave their houses on a daily basis is, "It's good. It keeps the riff-raff out." What is riff-raff you ask? Well, it's "ghetto folk", hobos, meth heads, and such. But the thing is, it doesn't get rid of the riff-raf. It just drives them indoors where everyone else is. I know this because I experienced it first hand during my last trip to Walmart. It all began on Sunday morning. I woke up with a pain in my stomach on the right, and it seemed right under my ribs. So, I did what every red-blooded American who understands technology does. I looked my malfunction on-line, where you should go for all medical advice. I self-diagnosed myself with gall stones. The remedy for gall stones is drink six ounces of apple juice for five days, because the apple juice makes the stones soft. On the sixth day, drink the apple juice, and don't eat after 6:00 pm. At 8:00 drink four ounces of water mixed with 2 tablespoons of Epson Salt, and repeat at 10:00. At 10:30 drink 4 ounces of olive oil mixed with two ounces of lemon juice. The Epson salt acts as a laxative and the olive oil makes it more slippery I guess. I think the Epson salt must give the concotion the explosive effect to help rid your body of the gall stones. I had everything except the Epson salt, which I didn't need until the following Saturday anyway. Yesterday it was only -16 degrees with a -25 wind chill and it was supposed to be the warmest day of the week, so I declared it my "Walmart/Target/Grocery" day. I typically don't go to Walmart, but the one by my school is a little classier Walmart. Even that sentence makes me giggle. Classy Walmart is an oxymoron, like non-dairy cream. Anyway, I needed more "Walmart" specific stuff than Target or Grocery store, so when it is this cold I only pick one store, and Walmart won. I parked my car at Walmart, making certain to look at which lane I parked in, because when the wind chill is -25, you don't have time to gallivant around the parking lot looking for your car. I walked into Walmart and immediately felt like I was in the ghetto. Yes. The ghetto of Fargo. I saw a 24-year-old mom with at least five kids I think. It was hard to count because they were all running so fast, but I know the two IN the cart were trying to get OUT, and at least three others were fighting to get in, and there were a few more climbing the shelves as she looked at Monistat. I wanted to grab a package of condoms off the shelf and throw them in her cart while she wasn't looking, but I knew one of the kids would tell on me and cause a bigger scene. I also wanted to assist the kids trying to get out of the cart before they fell, but then I thought 'oh well. Everyone needs a childhood scar story to tell. It would be unfair to rob these children of that.' I knew this woman was ghetto before she opened her mouth. Just because it's the frozen tundra of the north and she was wearing her WARM pajama bottoms and slippers doesn't make it any less of the fact that she is shopping while wearing pajamas. It could have been that, or her many screaming children, or the fact that she had dread locks, and the children looked like they haven't bathed in 2014, but it was probably the tank top that was too small and rode up, so it showed both her tramp stamp on the back, and her rolls on top of her rolls in the front. I wondered, 'where is her coat? It's fricken -25 out!' then I found it. Her five-year-old was wearing the hood of the mom's coat over her face and spinning around with her arms straight out. Hey- at least she was smart enough to try to keep her balance while knocking things out of the way with her arms instead of her head. Maybe she got the smarts in the family. After my entertainment went around the corner to terrorize an elderly couple in the next aisle, I went to work looking for Epson salt. I found it. It's also called bath salts. I read the package and in big letters it says DO NOT INJEST. How am I suppose to mix it with water so I can drink it up? I asked the pharmasist if they had Epson salt that can be injested. She looked at me funny and said, "No. They are BATH salts. Not salt, salt". Now I felt like the ghetto mom who had kids running around with my coat covering their face. I instantly remembered the situation in New York when the guy who injested bath salts ate off the hobo's face in the subway. Great. Now she thinks I'm that person. So I left Walmart thinking sure, leave it to Walmart to have the non-edible Epson salts. Target would have the right kind. Not regular Target, but Super Target would because if you want to injest bath salts and eat off someone's face, you wouldn't be shopping at Target. You'd go to Walmart. I paid for my extreamly cheep cleaning products and left to wander the parking lot looking for my car.

I Love My Class

I have the best class this year! They are so good. None of my students have any behavior problems. On the first day of school I kept pausing while I was talking. I was getting more and more frustrated with myself. I was wondering, "Did I lose the teaching touch? What is with the pausing? Did I forget how to talk to a group of people?" Nope. It was because no one was interrupting me by shouting obscenities or swear words, no one was throwing any furniture or books, no one was threatening to kill me, no one was throwing a tantrum because I was giving someone else individual attention, and no one was spitting on their neighbor. I didn't know what to do. The past two years I wasn't able to finish a complete thought, let alone a sentence without a swear word, book, spit, punch or death threat being thrown my way. This year is a dream! I tell the kids all of the time they are the best class I've ever had. I actually get a little sad saying goodbye to them on Fridays because I know I won't see them until Monday. This class really couldn't get any better. They try hard, they pay attention, they do what I tell them to do, they don't even get crazy before a storm or during a full moon, and best of all they are excited about any new material I have to teach them. I swear, I could say tomorrow morning, "We are going to learn about watching grass grow," and they'd cheer. Their behavior is the best. I rarely have to tell them individually or collectively to "settle down", "listen" or "get to work".  Reverse psychology and positive reinforcement works wonders with them. I'll say, "I LOVE how Johnny is working so hard", then they all work hard. Or "you can do this, you are smart", then they go try their hardest. In the past if I said, "I LOVE how hard Johnny is working", kids would think, and often say, "Well, Johnny is a big nerd." In the past if I told them, "You can do this, you're smart", they'd tell me "No I can't and you are dumb if you think I can do it." Or they'd throw something and storm out of the room and run away.
Today marked the half way point of the school year. Last night I went to bed thinking "I have the best class. They are so excited to learn about everything. I am so lucky." Then it turned to "I am halfway done with this class. I will never have a class this good again. It took 14 years to get kids this good, I'll never strike gold twice." And worse, "Even if I do have a good class, I'll compare them to this class and they will never measure up. This class has blessed, and ruined me at the same time." Then I got a little teary and fell asleep. This morning I was still all nostalgic thinking, "I am so lucky. I love getting out of bed and going to work."  However, once I got to school it was a different story. The day started out with a girl announcing, "This is my last day. We are moving to (a southern state) tomorrow because my mom is sick of winter." I should tell you that the temperature (considering wind chill) has only been ABOVE -15 at noon for exactly 7 days since November 3. I hate winter too, but I've decided long ago that I'm stuck here because this is where I live. Considering up and moving because of the weather isn't something most people do, I didn't believe her. Sure enough, I got an e-mail at 9:00 from her mom telling me the movers came during Christmas break, took their stuff, and they are all hopping on a plane tomorrow morning and saying "Adios" to Fargo forever. This girl gave me a picture she drew(of the Eiffel tower) on the back of her homework that said, "Pairs. The Citee of Love. to mrs, farFled". All I thought was, "Well, now the pressure of teaching you how to spell is no longer mine." I only have seven girls in my class, so they are all pretty close friends. The girls who is moving is definitely a leader. The rest are very sweet, but not the "take charge" type. We went through her tearful passing out of her "good-bye cookies" then they pretty much pulled themselves together. I was sad and worried about how the remaining six girls will cope and wondered who will end up taking the leadership role.
My sad attitude continued well into the afternoon. I got an e-mail from our school secretary saying "This is an invite for you to join us in The Biggest Loser here at school" Right away I chuckled thinking "Ha ha! She's calling me a big loser, ha ha." Then I found out it was about losing weight. I was no longer thinking "ha ha" but, "What?! How many other people think I'm fat? Why would she send this to me? Does this shirt make me look fat, or is the pants? Is it the whole outfit? I am so embarrassed..." Then I looked at the "to" list and realized she sent it to everyone.  Even the teachers who weigh less than 100 pounds. Why am I so paraniod? It's not PMS. It could be lack of sleep, since during Christmas break and on weekends I sleep 12 hours a day, and this whole 9 hours a night just doesn't cut it. However, I have my happy light box now so I shouldn't need to sleep. Maybe I am sick of winter and should be hopping on a plane to live down south. Or maybe I need to move to Pairs, the citee of love.

Middle Aged

In the last month a student slipped and called me "grandma". At least twice a month someone slips and says, "mom..." as they come up to talk to me, but never grandma.  On the 50th anniversary of John F. Kennedy's death, our principal told the school that he "was in 2nd grade when that happened." Keep in mind that makes him 57-years-old. One of my other students asked, "How old were you? Were you like in college or something?" "Do I look older than Mr. Principal?" I asked. His reply was to stare at me and tilt his head a little, reminding me of my dog, Max, when faced with a difficult choice. It made me wonder, am I really middle aged, or am I just boring? I don't think I'm middle aged. I don't think I've reached half my lifespan. I don't think when I am twice my age now, I'll up and die. Both sides of the family tend to live well into their elderly years. Friends from college will tell me about things I've said or done, but I don't have the foggiest idea what they are talking about. It sounds like something I'd do, but I sure wish I could remember it. Noah has an ap on his phone that plays high pitch noises, to check if you are deaf. Even my half deaf spouse can hear the tones before I can. I constantly squint because I can't see. Last night Ethan asked me why I was so mad at the TV being I was glaring at it. Yet, if I wear my glasses, I can't read. I went to do a load of laundry the other day and there was a load in there. I don't remember putting a load of laundry in the washer. So there it is. I'm losing my hearing, my eyesight, and my mind. I also tire easily. I think about when Ethan was born and wonder how could I have a baby, a toddler, be a full-time kindergarten teacher, and not drop from exhaustion. These days, all it takes is a particularly long math lesson and I am all in. I look at pictures of myself when the kids were small and wish I could go back and tell myself so many things. I've realized now that I'm no longer in my late 20's the emotional drama of growing up is behind me; the physical perils of aging are still to come.In the past few years it is easier to be grateful… and fearful. I am an expert on more things than I care to be, and I realize that most of my life has been of my own making. Yes, I've been dealt cards that are both good and bad, but ultimately, I was and am the one who plays them. With that realization comes a feeling of late great responsibility. I'm coming to terms with how many moments, days, and months have been squandered. Each day I promise to do better, but I know that I probably won't. I'm not a risk taker, and I like my warm house, pajamas and bed too much.

Maybe I am middle aged. In the past year, I left the house without make-up three times. That is one and a half more times than I had all together ever before.The number of people I need to look presentable for has declined. As has the term "presentable". I'm not talking Walmart Presentable, but normal matching, hair combed, etc... My favorite outfit is a pair of flannel pajamas and the best part of each day is when I can climb into bed.

In the past few years, my tolerance for mean people has hit rock bottom. Life is too short to spend any energy on bullies. I wish I cared that I'm not "in" with the "cool" 5-grade-basketball player moms. But I don't care. I find it more ironic that the "cool moms" have bratty kids, and I don't. Mean people are easier to eliminate from your life, while also easier to understand now that I'm middle aged. My life is full of fleeting moments of bliss and despair, mostly despair, as I watch my children grow up into independent teenagers. Thanking the universe that I raised them well in one breath, and wondering what will become of them in the other. Despite hard evidence that they are actually going to turn out okay, I remain fearful that the really deep-seeded neuroses won’t manifest itself for a few more years. Hey- they inherited a big dose of crazy from both sides. In the past few years I find myself constantly counting my blessings while at the same time trying to calculate when my luck will run out. It's at those times I remind myself, it's not paranoia if they really are out to get you. 

November

I am home with Sam because he ate an entire chicken leg and bone in two bites. He was acting funny so I thought I'd better take him to the vet.  I should be using my time wisely, but I have to blame the school librarian for getting me off track. That's funny since I just filled out the portion on my students' report cards that states "I take responsibility for my actions", and now I'm not, "it's Mrs. Kemple's fault. I swear, she made me..."  Anyway, back to the librarian. She sent us an e-mail telling us way more about "November is national month for" than anyone can ever hope to know. I am going to re-make the list:

November 2013 is...

Adopt-a-Senior Pet Month-  Why? Why would I want an old pet? If I wanted a pet that died within a few days, I'd get a goldfish.

American Diabetes Month- Perfect. Except the national holiday in November is one where we all eat ourselves silly.  American Diabetes Month should be in August.

Aviation History Month- Makes perfect sense. Thanksgiving is the most traveled holiday. 

Banana Pudding Lovers Month- It goes great with Pumpkin and Apple Pie.

Child Safety Protection Month- Every month should be child safety. I guess all the other months parents can be willy nilly about protecting their child's saftey. 

Diabetic Eye Disease Month- Again... Thanksgiving

Gluten Free Diet Awareness Month- Again... Thanksgiving and the delicious crescent rolls. 

Kids Goal Setting Month- I guess this is better than May.  "My goal is to not pick up a pencil or a book all summer".

National Adoption Month- I want to adopt a Chinese baby. I love those Asians. 

National Alzheimer's Disease Awareness Month- This would be better in December. That way the person with Alzheimer's can get away without buying Christmas gifts. 

National American Indian Heritage Month- Makes sense. Without them, the pilgrims would have died. 

National Inspirational Role Models Month- At least this isn't in October when we have Columbus day. Columbus was a terrible man. He didn't discover America, and he was actually lost. For as much as I get lost, I should have at least 3 days with my name on them. 

National Marrow Awareness Month- Never been aware of my marrow.  Now I will be. All month. 

National Novel Writing Month- I have a novel in my head. Oh no, it's not a novel. It's the voices. 

National Scholarship Month- Because a lot of kids start college in November. 

Peanut Butter Lovers' Month- It's great for the gluten allergies and diabetics. 

PPSI AIDS Awareness Month- I don't even know what that is.

PTA Lifestyles Month- The PTA is a Pain To my Ass.  All they do is dream up more work for me that I don't want to do.

Vegan Month- Nothing says Happy Thanksgiving like a starving vegan. 

Flower: Chrysanthemum

Birthstone: Topaz

Moon Phases: New (11/3); First Quarter (11/20); Full (11/17); Last Quarter

(11/25)

All Hallows Day (All Saints Day) (11/1)

Give Wildlife a Break Week (11/3-11/9)- Also known as "Hunting Season"

National Animal Shelter Appreciation Week (11/3-11/9)- Go get your old dog. 

Use Your Common Sense Day (11/4)- Shouldn't you do this all of the time. It's like National breathing day.

General Election Day (11/5)- OH now I see why you should use your common sense the DAY BEFORE elections. Then it's all used up in time to vote.

National Parents as Teachers Day (11/8)- OMG! I HAVE MY OWN DAY! Does that mean parents are teachers. Or does it mean parents should come in and teach? Either way I'm game! My new favorite day is Nov. 8.  Unless it is "the teachers are parenting their students" In that case, that is every day.

National Farm-City Week (11/10-11/16)- What? Farm? City? I'd say that's national opposites day. 

American Education Week (11/17-11/23)- We celebrate by putting in three 12 hour days for conferences that week. 

 Better Conversation Week (11/24-11/30)- Just in time for Thanksgiving.

Church/State Separation Week (11/24-11/30)- Is this to remind difficult parents and students that there is not Christmas in school?

Thanksgiving Day (11/28)

Electronic Greeting Day (11/29)- For those of you who forgot to call the folks on Thanksgiving.

That Time of Year

It's that dreaded time of the year again. School starting. Every year I say I dread it, but when it comes down to it, I am excited to start with a new group of kids. A fresh start, with new school supplies. You have to be a teacher to appreciate a brand new sharpened pencil the way I do.  I'm even known to be all "fakey" happy, something I loathe, during the first two weeks of workshops and school. I used to think if I faked being happy about being treated like a pile of poo, I'll really be happy. Then realityalways sinks in and I realize, the last three years have sucked, and each year was worse than the previous one. You can only be beaten down each and every day for so long before you lose your passion, self-confidence, and excitement. For the past two weeks I've woken up thinking, "I don't want to go to school. They bully me, call me names, put me down, and no one will sit with me at lunch. Then I meet my students and go into the classroom and they throw stuff and spit on me." However, after getting new bitch-be-gone pills, I am going to be neutral. My new motto is: "I used to worry/fret/be sad/get excited/be happy about/etc... but now I take medication for that." I did try to work in my room the other day. I sat at my desk, stared at my bent, previously organized, books on the shelf that got ruined during summer school. I looked up at the falling number line and borders. Then I looked in my desk drawers that were cleaned last spring, but now held balled up papers, confiscated toys, a jar of Slimfast, and a bag of moldy bread (all left by the summer the school teacher), got overwhelmed and went home. It took all morning to get nothing done. It's OK. I'm neutral now. Last year I would be all, "I gotta figure out who was in my room and ask her to not leave 'science experiments' in my desk and to bring her own books for the kids to wreck". But the new me says, "Well, she DID have my old students for summer school. They wrecked the books- they should have known better. A few do always have toys that need to be confiscated, the balls of paper were probably proof of what they throw at her, she had the Slimfast because she needs to lose weight being the kids are driving her to drink which causes weight gain, and the bread? I'm not sure about the bread."
 All of my friends have moved on to bigger and better things. We've lost about half the staff. Apparently no one took the whole, "Tell the new school you'll only come if Sara Fairfield can come with" seriously... Oh well. I'm starting the year neutral.  I have 20 students, 10 boys and 10 girls with a WIDE range of abilities. I don't have any that are notoriously out of control that I know of yet. I have 3 students that are siblings of previous students, and only one kid dropped (or moved away) after finding out I am his teacher. See there is my neutral.
Along with my new happy pills, my psychiatrist gave me good advice. This is kind-of a big deal, because usually she just looks at me and blinks her big eyes. She said, "Your dad is just not the father you need him to be. He isn't going to say the words you need to hear. He isn't going to do the things you need him to do. You need to re-create...(I kinda stopped listening here because I was thinking of the things I need him to say- she may have said "relationship" or what I'm going with- "father") and you will be able to come to terms with it." So, I'm not sure if she thinks I need a new imaginary friend and call him "dad", or come to terms that my dad likes other people's children and grandchildren better than his own. I going go with the imaginary dad thing for awhile just so my kids have something interesting to write about on that first day of school "Write about your summer vacation" writing assignment.  I'm going to set an extra plate at supper for invisible dad, carry on one, and two-sided conversations with imaginary dad, such as, "Well, if it's not my beautiful daughter Sara!" "Hi invisible dad". "I just can't get over how proud I am of the person you've become!"  "Gee, thanks imaginary dad". "And those boys, they are the most handsome, best behaved, smartest boys who will succeed at anything they set out to do. And it's all because you are such an outstanding mother." "Thanks invisible dad. I sure hope they have something good to write about on the first day of school." "Well, they could certainly write about how you gladly sacrifice for their happiness every day"... I'll also move the furniture around when they aren't looking and blame it on invisible grandpa. And when Sam barks for no reason, I'll tell him to stop barking at grandpa. I think it's a great plan, and a nice way to wrap up our last few weeks together. Who knows, they might even get an award for their creative writing about their summer vacation. It's a whole lot better than, "I went to camp all summer." or "I played baseball every damn day  until the day football started."

Home-Ecky Becky

We are throwing a barbecue on Sunday for Ethan's basketball team and their families. So this week, I did not go in the pool...

I painted and redecorated the bathroom...

Stained the deck... And even used a ladder- on rocks! Yes, I do take my life in my own hands sometimes. 

And broke out the sewing machine and sewed some curtains for the kitchen!

I also cleaned out the drawers and closets, and the whole house is shiny and sparkly. This whole "summers off" is a lot of work!! I have a sneaking suspicion Scott arranged this party just to keep me busy and to get the house cleaned. Oh well, at least it's summer. After July 4th I feel like there is a giant clock above my head ticking "School's Starting. School's Starting, School's Starting". I don't want school to start. I don't want to be bullied by the 8-year-olds and a couple adults. I put in for a transfer and each day that goes by proves a smaller chance of moving. I think my dread is ruining my good summer mood. I feel like a dud. I lost my sense of humor and social skills. At baseball games I know I should wander around, mingle and visit with the other parents, but I'd rather keep track of the innings with my array of sunflower seeds spread out on the bench in front of me. It's strange how I wish my life away during the school year, "I wish it was Friday, I wish we were done with conferences, I wish it were spring, I wish it was the last day of school", but now I want time to stand still. I wish it was July 1st for the next 5 days, then it can be July 2nd for for five days...Today I have to grocery shopping for the par-tay, paint one wall in my living room, make a Target run and put fresh chemicals in the pool. Next week my oldest baby will be at camp, so I better find a long project to keep me busy.  Maybe I should make a deck around the pool?...
Thoughts I think: Obviously I didn't get enough sleep last night, because my bitchy britches are fitting mighty fine today...

My Hidden Talent

I've been spackling the walls in the bathroom because the paint is pealing off and I need to repaint.  I've been scraping, and spackling for the past three days. Yesterday I listened to the 80's and 90's channel on Pandora, and I played a little game called, "Name the date and artist for this song" with myself. Yes, I do realize I must have too much time on my hands, or spackling is as boring as baseball.  Anyway, I am AWESOME at Name That Date, it is my hidden talent. I not so good at Name That Artist. I think the combination of listening to the 80's and 90's music and my 12  1/2 hour slumber last night led me to dream I was back in the fall of my freshman year of college. I kept thinking, "Yay! A do-over! This is freaking FANTASTIC!!" It turns out I still became a third grade teacher, but I was teaching in Barnesvile. Everything about the elementary school was the same as when I went there, including the vain of my existence- a certain 4th-grade-teacher's aide. That is another story I will save for my Bitter Memoirs, I swear that book will write itself one day. Anyway, she was still my nemesis, and I was still trying unsuccessfully to win her approval. Apparently even in do-overs things never change. Noah and Ethan were still my children, and I had to go to parent teacher conferences with my old teachers, because they now taught my kids. In my dream, Mr. Kragness told me Noah had illegible handwriting, which is absolutely true, and Mrs. Meisneer told me Ethan is lazy when it comes to math, which is absolutely NOT true. Then I was awoken from my dream by the dentist calling to see why I wasn't at the office waiting to get my new tooth. Ooops. I totally forgot about my appointment. I hope that doesn't mean he'll skip the Novocaine on Thursday.
Last night I told Ethan he was brave because he told me his friends were all doing something not very smart, and he told them he wouldn't do it. He told me I was brave too. But then I thought, no I'm not. I'm scared of so many things. Like something terrible happening to my children, feeling physical or emotional pain, my children feeling physical or emotional pain. I'm scared of Snakes, spiders, frogs, mice, rats, moles, toads, lizards, salamanders, birds pooping on me, skunks, mountain lions, wolves, German shepherds, hairless cats, alligators, losing my memory, losing my knowledge, losing my mind, losing my job, losing my house, being homeless, being a victim of identity theft, being a kidnap victim, my kids being kidnapped, falling in the shower, falling in a crowd, driving on the ice, walking on the ice, driving on the ice and a semi jack-knifing and coming at me head on (this has never happened, but who's to say it won't), my pets dying, someone I love dying, someone I like dying, meeting new people, meeting people I know, sometimes old people, social situations, new situations, my car breaking down, having to change a tire on the highway, getting lost, something going terribly wrong with the plumbing/electrical in my house, box elder bugs, clowns, mimes, mascots, the Easter Bunny, people being mean to me at work, sometimes 9-year-olds, and did I already mention snakes? Good grief, no wonder I take medication. And drink. And don't like to leave my house very much. And panic a little when people come over. And don't have a lot of people visiting. And have very few friends. Huh, well at least I still have "Name The Date And Artist For This Song"...

Glad to Meet You, Now Go Home

Noah has had a friend over for the past 31.75 hours. Yesterday was the first time I met this friend. In fact his friend has an odd name that I can't keep straight, so I usually call him Captain Crunch when talking to Noah about him. Cappy's parents have never met us. These are the only things I know about him.
1. He was in Noah's science class last year.
2. He doesn't like sports, but does like to golf.
3. He hates dogs (more on that later).
4. He is sullen and quiet.
5. My child becomes sullen and quiet when he is around Captain Crunch.
6. He won't go home.
These are the things I can not do because he won't go home.
1. Go in my pool,
2. Drink a beer in my pool.
3. Take a nap.
4. Watch TV downstairs.
This morning I said, "I bet your parents are missing you. We should get you home." He said, "My parents are at their lake cabin until Monday." Huh... Who drops their kid off at a strangers house and goes out of town? What if there is an emergency? What if that emergency is me wanting my living room back? Actually it's not such a bad thing, because I'm getting a lot done being I can't be parked in front of the TV watching Lifetime Movies, but enough already. I like Noah's friends. I really do, but I'm not so sure about this one. Maybe my friends' parents felt the same about me. "She doesn't talk, she won't go home..." Captain doesn't like the dogs and pushes them off the furniture. I kinda want to say, "hey, they live here, you don't. Go home." But I know Noah wouldn't like that very much. I don't remember having friends over everyday growing up. It's as if the boys can't be with their friends for one day, they are going to go batshit crazy. I don't remember going through that stage, but living out in the middle of no where didn't do wonders for my social life- which I still have issues with today, however I'll save that for my bitter memoirs. One good thing is Ethan is forced to be wherever I am, so that's nice. I also thought I'd try to bake. That turned out to be a burned, smoke alarm going off, disaster. Guess I'll just stick to my original plan of  re-painting the bathroom today. Unless Captain Crunch goes home, then I'm going to drink beer in my pool until I take a nap.

Back At It

I'm not really sure why I'm returning to blogging because I already tell both people who read my posts about my every thought, but I have no energy to tackle my to-do list, I got my eyes dilated at the eye doctor this morning so I can barely see let alone read, and I need to distract myself from wishing for a rain storm that will cancel Ethan's baseball game- preferably one with lightning, so they call it a day and send everyone home. That leaves blogging with probably a lit of typos.  I'm not sure what's wrong with me. I feel very boring. I think I maybe go through this every June when school gets out and my stress level is 5/6 lower, therefore I have nothing to say, or maybe I really just have nothing interesting, or worthy to say. So I made a list. I've made lots of lists lately.  A "to-do list", a "books I want to read list", and "things I have to say that may be worthy". I have small little bursts of of being anal- I wonder if I was supposed to be anal,  but I'm just to lazy to carry through. Maybe it's my bitch-be-gone pills. They are supposed to make me not worry about insignificant things, and while doing that, maybe it took away my analness. Anyway, my list of things I have to say that may/may not be interesting:
1) WHY am I SOOO tired?
2) Why can't I buy Sam and Abby bark collars? Why is it so cruel? Isn't it cruel that I'm on my very last nerve and they bark shattering it?
3) Why does the weather man lie, making me look forward to the baseball game being canceled, and planning my eye dilation for a non-sunny day? It's a sunny, non-rainy baseball day!!
4) Why is baseball so damn boring!!!?
5) Why is my house where all the kids want to hang out? I know I should be glad, I can supervise, know they are safe, but really? I deal with other people's children for 9 1/2 months of the year. I need summers off so the next group of children survive the next 9 1/2 months. It's kinda the same principle as "You must be wonderful with children and want to volunteer running our children's ministry program because of your talent." Yes, I do like children, but I'm sure your dentist likes teeth, would you show up at his house on weekends and make him babysit your teeth for hours on end?
6) Why does 97% of everything in my life revolve around sports, cooking or cleaning?

So both of you people who read this should vote on my things that are worth talking about and I will.

Most Obnoxious Pet Owner Ever

The following is what my pets would say if they could talk. I knowwhat they are saying because I am their pet psychic and they talk through me...

 

You are bringing home ANOTHER dog?

 

Abby won't share her smokes with us...

 

I'll show you MY version of "smell my feel"

 

I can't junp off this bed, you idiot!

Wasn't I enough?...

 

Oh mama, don't take my picture, I'm having a bad hair day...

 

I guess he's OK. But he is NOT my brother!!

 

Why do you have your coat on? You are going to work? That's like 56 hours for us!

 

I like your shiny floor mama. Not I can pee on it again.

 

Hi mama, I had a bad dream. I sleep with you?

 

This not your bed. This my bed.

 

It's been a lonng week. I gotta get my drink on.

 

You love me most, right? Right?

 

Who is this kid, and how dare he sit on my bed?

 

You DO know he's gonna grow, don't you?

 

Sometimes I sleep in the food dish.

 

Abby coming home from dog jail. "Don't say it... I'm embarrased enough. But they said they had kibble. KIBBLE!"

 

I'm dreaming of my next escape...

 

I'll never run away mama...

 

I had a ruff night.

 

When will you learn? All the purple bows in the world won't make me a girly girl.

 

Fine. I'll just be over here. Staring at the wall. Minding my own business.

 

I'll be your baby mama.

 

I'm NOT a football...

 

I sleep here. On your face.

 

This my poker face...

 

 

I hate the cone of shame...