Funny Kids

I thought I better have a more upbeat post so here it is...
Kids are funny. Ethan's teacher said, "take out your writing and put on your thinking caps."
Ethan- "Oh man... I lost my thinking cap..."

The pants wars have started up again at our house on school days. Ethan has to wear a slim 8 in running pants with a drawstring to "cinch" them up.
Ethan "I need more pants"
Me- "I just bought you eight pairs"
Ethan- "they are too fat"
Me- " You are too scrawny!"
Ethan- "I can't help it if I want to be a football player." What?? I think he is confused.

The other day at school I told the kids to write about their dream vacation. One girl wrote, "I wood go to Hawly. I'd take my hole family. We'd be there for 14 days. It wood be fun." I hope she meant Hawaii and not Hawley- because that would take 14 minutes- if she went slow.

We were drawing self portraits and I had the kids put their thumb on their chin and at the corner of their eye. I told them to freeze the distance on their hand, then move their thumb to the corner of their eye and the finger ends up at the top of their head. I said "That means your eyes are in the (middle)..."
Kid- "In your brain!!"

Happy Birthday Ethan!

My baby is eight years old. I still catch myself thinking of him as a young child who likes to be called "honey-bunny", and lists mommy, ice cream, cookies, candy and Baby Einstein as his favorites. Now he looks at me like I'm a nut when I call him Honey-bunny or ask if he wants to cuddle with mommy to watch baby Einstein. He started Second grade this week. I don't want him to be in second grade. I want him to be in Kindergarten. Why can't he just stay little? My happiest days are when he and his brother were babies. There are so many of Ethan's actions and personality traits that mirror my own- for good and bad. He is enthused about writing, reading, and drawing. He likes to be home best of all. He gets stuck in a "food rut"- although I've never had a "hot dog" rut, nor has mine ever lasted 6 years, but the popcorn rut did last five. We have the same sense of humor. We both think the same things are hilariously funny. Noah will give his obligatory chuckle, but Ethan and I will still laugh about it days later. We both really internalize our troubles and only wear our feelings on our sleeve with a very few select people (for me, that list is getting smaller and smaller all of the time). We aren't quick to trust, and maybe too quick to dismiss people, but when we love someone we love them with our whole heart. My pregnancy, delivery and toddler-hood was very different with Ethan than with Noah. I looked sick and exhausted while pregnant with Ethan. My white blood-cells were in the billions when I was pregnant with him, yet I wasn't sick. The labor and delivery were not as peaceful. Seven words- Dropped Me Off at the Hospital and Pitosin. However, when I held that screaming newborn I knew I'd love him forever, even if he landed in jail- which based on both years of his "terrible two's" was a real possibility. Ethan straightened out and he's now a thoughtful, kind, sweet little boy. He's a little more independent than I'd like (he won't even fall for the TRICK of holding my hand anymore), and maybe more of a loner than I can understand, but he's my baby.

Because I am behind on posts, here is what I've been up to:

For the past three weeks I've had a headache. I doesn't go away when I go home from school, go to sleep, or wake up. It is always there. I also have been SO tired. This past week, I went to bed at 8:30 every night. I even had a after work happy hour drink and was home by 7:00 so I could go to bed. The headaches were really concerning me. During the week I blamed it on the fact that I am the only Elementary teacher in Fargo with 25 students!! (By the way there is a North Fargo school that has 2 classes of third grade. One has 11 kids, the other has 12- together they STILL HAVE LESS THAN ME!!!!!) I blamed it on my needy students. I took count and 11 out of 25 have serious issues. Coincidently those 11 are the ones who are always in my face demanding something. The ones without issues are quiet , nice and good students. I even blamed my headaches on the air quality of the brand new building- I am used to the old asbestos filled building, my body is going through asbestos withdrawal. I even contemplated getting a EKG because a teacher from Horace Mann had an aneurysm on Labor Day. She is my age and has two very small children. She was healthy one minute and in an induced coma the next. The aneurysm was close to her brain stem, so she is on machines to keep her alive. They are thinking of slowly weaning her off in the next seven weeks. Who knows what will happen from there. Of course I freaked out because she's so young and healthy, and my mom had a brain aneurysm and they run in families. Well, yesterday I woke up with a horrible sore throat. Today I had a sneaking suspicion that it could be strep being I get it at least four times a year. I went to the "Fast Track" clinic, at the Stanford- Not Meritcare any more clinic. I found myself sucking up to and brown-nosing the doctor. I really felt like death, but I was certain the change of Stanford or Obama's death panels would give the doctor the choice to treat me or not. I thought if I got her to like me, she'd give me medicine. I know it's ridiculous, but the change of Meritcare to Stanford and Obama's plan to change health care scares the crap out of me. Sometimes at night, I wake up and wonder how to go about getting a passport so I can go to Canada to buy some over-the-counter antibiotics in case the doctor just says "no- drink water". The doctor did not in fact say "No medication for you." But, "You have had a headache for how long? And you didn't get seen? You woke up with a fever for two days? You had to rest between taking a shower and combing your hair? You need to drink lots of water, take three of these horse pills a day, and you can not go to work tomorrow." I asked, "What if I'm better tomorrow?" She said, "If you are better, and you go to work you will infect your students, who will in turn re-infect you, or you will push yourself too hard and end up being sicker for much longer- which is why, I suspect you get strep throat four times a year. No work. Stay in bed." OK thank you Meritcare Ooops I mean Stanford doctor...

My thought for the day is more of an observation: MapQuest really should start out on turn #5. I'm pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

Dog Days Of Summer

The good thing is, the pool is set up and working like a charm. The bad thing is, it's been too cold for the past 6 days to use it. Oh well, during the past six days I spend two of them in the hospital with Noah getting his appendix out, and the other four unpacking my 97 boxes in my new classroom. Noah's main nurse was a neighbor growing up! She told Noah she used to change my diapers when she babysat me as a baby. I love my new room at my new school. It's in an awesome location. It's sized and shaped nicely, there's tons of storage, and everything is shiny bright and still smells like new carpet. However, yesterday as I unpacked I felt I was on the verge of tears the whole time. I think it's the unknown, you know? I don't know if people will like me. Will I "fit in" or always be an outsider looking in? Will the kids and parents be nice? I know NOTHING about any of my students. It's scary. Yesterday I thought, 'I'll never see Andy Panda running up to me with a note pinned to his jacket ever again,' and it made me really sad. I'll never see "Hector" who wrote a note and left it on my chair last year when he was in fourth grade saying "You said I wus smarte. so I wuz." What if no one ever believes in him again and he ends up on the streets? I won't be in my room when he comes back to see me in the fall. I won't be there when Andy Panda comes in and sits down for the first half of the year because that's his routine. Who will tell him, "Andy, look around. There are no other students in here. Is this really your classroom?" I'll never have another Watson child. It was a four year tradition, and I love the Watsons. I also won't get Evie's little sister, and I love Evie and her little sister. This morning I find myself dragging my feet and not wanting to go in and organize, but I have to because in less than a week, the kids are going to show up if I'm ready or not. I haven't found that damn magic wand that will do stuff for me, the genie with three wishes, or the winning lottery ticket, so I guess I better shower and go in. I wish I had one more month of Summer vacation. I'm tired of parents saying, "Thank God school is starting next week!! My kid needs it!" Because what they are really saying is, "Good Lord! These kids are getting on my very last nerve and it's about time their teacher to have to put up with 'em!" Oh!! Another good thing- I ordered new swimsuits on-line today from Amish Swimsuits R Us. I'm hoping it does get hot again so I can use them before I break out my long-johns.

"Old" People?

My dad turns 75 next week. When I was younger, like 20, I used to think 75 was old. Now I like to think of it as middle aged. I know my dad isn't going to live to 150, but I hope he has a good 25 more years in him. I have noticed a lot of changes in the past few years- other than the "What? I didn't know I had a daughter, let alone two! And all of MY grandchildren are in their 20's..." That's due more to his wife than old age. But he forgets things a lot now. He loses stuff. He never used to lose things, but now he puts the house key in a "secret hiding spot" also known as his shoe, and then he forgets his "secret" spot. He'll spend two days looking for the key and when he tells me about it I think, 'how did you not wear your shoes for two days?' He's also gotten so nit-picky. I only talk to him maybe twice a month, but the last two times the conversation revolved around how he and his wife "saved" spots at a table at the local polka fest for four of their friends. Well, one set of friends brought some of their friends that my dad's wife can't stand- that's a shocker- she can't stand me either, and I am awesome. Anyway, I got the half hour low down on how mad they were because these friends brought other people to their "saved" table. I wanted to tell him, like I tell the third graders about lunch- "You can't save spots, that's rude. How would you feel if you didn't have anywhere to sit and all of the spots are 'saved'? You'd feel like no one likes you, that's how you'd feel- so stop saving spots." Today's conversation revolved around how they went to a family friend's funeral. Dad and his wife were mad because none of dad's brother's wives "saved" them a spot, which made them have to sit in the pew in front of the others. Guess they got the short end of the "saving spots" stick. Anyway, I don't like to think of my dad as old. There are too many things left undone and unsaid, which will remain that way and I know it'll bother me to no end one day. Who knows, maybe he will live forever- Victor and Kay on the Young and the Restless are still alive and they have been old my whole life. Victor continues to have children even though he's about 190-years-old, and Kay is finally showing her age. She just yells randomly "Ahhhhhhh!!!!" when people are fighting around her. Wouldn't it be a hoot if my dad started doing that?

Yesterday I passed a hobo and I wondered, where did he get the sharpie marker and cardboard to make his sign?

Changes...

I hate in less than 20 days, my summer vacation is over. I always have such great expectations for summer, and it goes by WAY too fast. Everyone likes summer, but I Love, Love, LOVE summer, I think more than the average person. I don't know if it's because I am on vacation (except this year), or because we have six months of winter and I absolutely HATE, HATE everything about winter (except Christmas, which has nothing to do with winter, it just happens to be in the winter). Soon I will be getting my new pool, in one to three weeks. However, I am not sure if I should put it up because school starts in three weeks- YUCK. I start a full two and a half weeks earlier than the boys. Next week, I start unpacking my stuff at my new school. All of my belongings are officially (I assume) at Kennedy waiting for me to come in and give them a new home. I am a little excited and a lot nervous. What if the parents are mean to me? What if the kids are mean? What if the principal doesn't like me? What if my co-workers don't like me? I already know one doesn't like me- what if she sullies my name and people don't give me a chance? What if I don't have room for the 29 and a half students I will probably end up with because that school is already busting at the seems? What if a kid freaks out? What will I do with him/her? At my last school I just sent him/her to Special Ed, even if they usually didn't see Ed. Special Ed doesn't have a classroom right by me anymore, Ed's classroom is upstairs and I don't know who Ed sees. Kennedy is literally out in the middle of no where. What if I get lost going to school on my first day? Or worse- If I get lost going home? I'd drive around, and around, and around Fargo all night and be way too tired to teach on day two.
I also don't think I like the idea of Noah going into fifth grade. I don't want him to grow up. Next year he'll be in middle school. I want him to be going into third grade. I also don't like the idea that I am getting older. It's seriously a lot harder to lose weight. The other day I was shopping and saw my reflection as I was walking, I thought "Good Lord that woman looks tired! And fat!And I have that shirt she's wearing. Oh..." I have these horrible, puffy bags under my eyes. It doesn't matter how much I sleep. I read on-line you should drink more water. I drink about 7-9 glasses a day. They also said to make yourself some tea and use the tea bags on your eyes. Really? How could you not get tea in your eyes? I just got a new pair of eyes, I think if I wreck these, I'm out of luck- they'll never give me another pair. The website also said to put cucumbers on my eyes, and take an hour nap. First of all, I can't sleep on my back, secondly- who wants to keep cucumbers on their eyes for an HOUR? It also said Preparation H for hemorrhoids works. Today I bought some, rubbed it under my eyes, and it. does. not. work. I accidentally forgot I had it on and rubbed my eye, so now I have hemorrhoid gel in my eye. I guess the puffy eyes match my puffiness everywhere else. Maybe the eye puffiness can work in my favor. The mean parents might think, "Oh I won't harass her... she looks so tired, and puffy..."

Abby

Abby has made running away from home part of her Sunday morning ritual. She has done it the past two weeks. Yesterday she ran away four times. Luckily she wears her collar and we were called each time by someone who found her. I keep asking her "why she wants to run away" and "why she doesn't like us anymore", but she doesn't have a straight answer. It doesn't help that the neighbor kid pets her through the fence, making her realize that yes, she can escape. She sneaks out of our backyard fence, because we need a new fence really bad. I think we also need a backyard above ground pool. Scott doesn't think it's a good idea. I think it's a wonderful idea. The one I want is 48 inches deep and 16 feet across. He thinks it's not big enough for the kids to swim in, yet too big for the 4,671 square foot back yard. The only draw back that I see is the neighbor kid might constantly be climbing the fence (which aids in it breaking, which leads to Abby running away) to swim when the kids or I am in the pool. Yesterday the neighbor kid (who is Ethan's friend) asked Ethan to come over to play. When Ethan got there his mother's best friend's kid was there because my neighbor was babysitting him, so Ethan was sent home. I totally understand. When Cole, Stacy's kid, comes over I'd rather it just be the two of them. However, we were going to set up the slip and slide. The neighbor kid saw it and he and his friend put on their swimsuits and were relentless about coming over. I can tolerate the neighbor kid. Not the friend. The friend is, for lack of a better word, "trash". I know his mom thinks I'm all snobbish throwing around my college degrees and fixed roof, but I can't stand the mom or kid. She thinks I'm a bad mom because I let the boys be in competitive sports. Really? Aren't all sports competitive? Well, gymnastics and ice skating aren't but they still have meets to find out whose the best. Even duck, duck, goose is competitive. Long story short- I didn't want him here. We decided to hide out in the house until the neighbor kid's friend went home. They kept ringing our doorbell asking if it's time. I finally said, "Hey, neighbor kid! It's not gonna happen today." Then they went home and got a basketball and started playing basketball with OUR hoop. One of our cars was in the driveway getting hit by the ball. Seriously. Who babysits a kid then pawns them off on the neighbor? Or lets them play at the neighbors house. Oh the best part about it was Ethan went outside to play basketball with them (in our driveway) and they said he couldn't play! As I right this I realize there is a great need for a sarcasm font.

Trench Foot

I am reading a book that is about a 12-year-old boy whose father ran off, his mother died on the couch of a meth overdose, but he doesn't want anyone to know. Obviously it is fictional. Anyway, the mother dies, he drags her body to the bathtub, and when the apartment starts smelling he wraps her up in the shower curtain and puts her in the deep freeze. As I read that, I had to chuckle. I pictured him thinking, "what should I have for supper... hmmm... hot dogs. I think there are some in the freezer, right below mom's left shoulder..." Actually, it's not that funny. Three years ago my in-law's small lap dog died in November after the ground had frozen. They couldn't bury him, and didn't want to pay the vet to "store" him until spring, so guess where the dead dog ended up? Yep. IN THE FREEZER!! Imagine my surprise when my mother-in-law asked me to run down and get some meatballs for Christmas supper. I opened the door, thought, "where the heck are the meatballs? Maybe they are in this white plastic bag... OMG!! That's NOT meatballs!!"

Well, in the story the boy avoids the bathtub while his mom is in it, and then later because he is a 12-year-old boy. He wears the same socks day and (literally) night. Because he wore the same stinky, sweaty socks all of the time, his feet started to rot and he had "trench foot". I can't believe it's a real thing- but it is! I looked it up on the internet and everything. It happens when you are in cold damp conditions and never change, or get out of, your socks. Your feet literally start rotting off. When I was going through my autism phase in the third grade, I was obsessed with clean feet. I used to wash my feet every night before I went to bed because I could not fall asleep with sticky, dusty, or just got out of clean socks feet. I also had to have my teeth brushed and carmax on my lips. This is the same ritual I follow today. If carmax causes some sort of lip cancer, I will undoubtedly get it. If there is some drug in carmax, I am absolutely addicted to it. My mom told me if I kept washing my feet before bed, they would get moldy and rot off my ankles. My grandma fully agreed with this, so I thought it must be true. So, to avoid foot rot, I started wearing socks to bed. My mom warned me not to wear socks to bed because that also would rot my feet, but I was desperate and could not sleep without them. I did it once and my mom knew! To this day I wonder how she could figure it out. I'm not sure what my plan of attack was after the sock issue, but I am pretty sure I must have found a way to have clean feet because I did sleep, and I still have the issue. I thought it was kind-of funny, not in a ha ha way, but in a ironic way that trench foot is a real thing, because when I was in the sixth grade I decided my mom was making things up to foster my autism just for laughs. Turns out she wasn't! Huh...