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...

 

 



  

I am: desperately in love with all baby things. Baby cats, dogs, humans... Not reptiles though- baby reptiles are gross...

I think: I wish away my life too much. "I wish it was Friday. I wish it were June 1st. I wish I were drinking a beer." 

I know: I was meant to be a mom.

I want: It to be June 1st!! And a full to the brim bank account.

I have: a nail biting problem.

I dislike: Most shows on the Disney channel and Nickelodeon. And baseball. I would rather watch paint dry. It is a mind numbing sport that lasts WAYYYY too long.

I miss: My mom. Every day, very much.

I fear: Losing everything. Not like my keys, my pop, my glasses, my mind.. But things that matter. 

I feel: The pins in my elbow and they hurt. 

I hear: Noah chewing, Abby snoring, Sam barking, and CSI NY

I smell: nothing because the sounds are drowning out all my other senses, and I have a stuffy nose.

I crave: The feeling of belonging and to be understood. 

I search: for my sanity. Where the hell did it go? 

I wonder: Why are my children growing up in fast forward, but no one else's children are?

I regret: Not having another child.

I love: Sleep.

I care: More than I may show it a lot of times.

I am always: Thinking about my children.

I worry: all.the.time. It's a gift, I could teach a class on it. I would call it "Why Worry? BECAUSE YOU SHOULD! Anything. I mean ANYTHING can and will go wrong. That's Why!!"

I remember: Thinking  30 was old.

I sing: To my students. I used to do it a lot more until one student told me I was really out of tune and should sit in on music class.

I argue: Not well, I think of what I should have said after the fact, but then it's too late.

I write: In a combination of cursive and print, just like a third grade teacher should... 

I lose: everything because I'm not organized enough

I wish: I had a closer knit extended family. All I have is my brother and sister and they live 2,000 miles away. 

I listen: to a song and am instantly transported back in time. Normally I correctly guess the year too, because that is my hidden talent. I can even tell you what I was doing in the said year while listening to it..

I don't understand: How electricity works. I teach it, but I literally read verbatim from the book, and pray every year the kids don't ask any questions. If they do I tell them to look it up and tell me in the morning.  

I can usually be found: At home, at school or at a basketball game. That is really the only places I go.

I am scared: of snakes, being seriously sick, being vulnerable and having to depend on someone else, my children being hurt sick or not safe, AND my students plotting my death...  

I need: more shoes, a new wardrobe, a maid, and a chef. And my own bathroom that can only be used by me.  

I forget: to do things like return phone calls, make appointments, mail things, where I left my sanity.... 

I am happy: Most of the time, because I have good bitch-be-gone pills!!

Sammy's Turn

Mama told me it's my turn to write the Christmas letter this year. She didn't do a Christmas card because she "couldn't find good pictures of the human boys". She has pictures of Abby- AKA the PRINCESS watching TV, but none of her children? Notice in the picture there is a handsome, friendly dog laying on the floor. Does that one get any attention? NOOOO only the "genius" who watches puppies on TV...

To be honest, we, the dogs ARE around a lot more than those human kids are. Well, here's a re-cap of my year. Max and I get our hair cut at least every four months or so. Maxie HATES going there. He runs in and hides under the counter. I run in happy because I know they've been missing me. We look and smell great when we are done. Abby doesn't get to go. Probably because she runs away too much. Abby had to get half of her teeth pulled. She had to stay overnight at the place of fear and shots. I bet she had her teeth taken out because she barks so much. Mama tells me I bark too much, I guess I better stop or I'll lose my teeth too. I like to make my humans happy by going outside and coming right back in every few minutes. They just love opening that door for me. Sometimes I get tired of that game, but it makes them so happy so I do it all day long. I try to do it at night, but they are "sleeping". Mama and the boys were home when it was hot outside. I like that. When it gets colder they leave and I don't like that. I sit at the top of the steps and silently cry all day. Mama thinks I need my own pet to keep me company. She keeps talking about a "kitten". I saw one of those at the place of fear once and it scared me. I tried to run away from it. We got a new fence for the backyard. I don't like it as much as the old one because I can't see a thing on the other side anymore. It doesn't stop me from barking to scare away any imaginary intruders though. One day the shorter human boy left gate open and Abby, Max and I ran away! We ran and ran. Then Max and I got scared and came back. Maxie hid in the garage and I went right back through the gate, ran up the steps and went to the deck door. That is usually where I find mama. See, I'm the smart dog.  Abby kept running. That's cuz she's a little bitch. The humans found her. I bet she'll lose more teeth for that one. All of the boys at my house talk about basketball or football all of the time. They watch it on TV too, but only if "Princess" is done watching her puppy shows. Mama talks about "school", whatever that is. Mama was also sad last summer because she lost another uncle and her aunt Harriett. I should help her find them. They are probably in the back yard where I lose all of my toys. Another game everyone loves is "throwing the ball". Those humans can throw that ball all day long. I make them happy by running to get it for them to throw again. Abby and Max don't. Abby runs to it, stares at it and can't pick it up because she doesn't have teeth. Max just watches the humans throw the ball. He doesn't even try to make them happy. That's what makes me the better dog. Well, I'm getting tired of typing and it's been awhile since I let the humans play "open the door". AT least I play with them. I better get back to it, or "Princess" will become top dog. Happy New Year. 

Sam

Post Thanksgiving

I was going to post these pictures on FaceBook, but there was an article in the Fourm where ladies said, pictures with "shaming" signs on their pets is humiliating to the pet. Really? They constantly lick their butts in front of me, they even lick each other's butts. I'm pretty sure they don't understand humiliation. Plus, they all wagged their tails when I took the pictures, well except Sam, I had to wait for him to go to sleep because he didn't like the feel of the tape on his fur- or maybe he was humiliated? Either way, I don't need those animal rights activists after me.
What does a teacher do with 5 days off from school and obviously too much time on her hands? Take pictures of the dogs and speak for them of course. You may notice Abby is wet. Why? Well because she ran away and got all muddy. Why would Max be wet, you may be asking. Well. Maxie likes to jump into the tub. You should have seen his look of surprise when he found out it was full of water and puppy shampoo.   This November marked Max's fifth birthday and the fourth anniversary of getting Sammy. That means in the last three out of 12 years I have not been potty training something or someone. I think that means I should get a baby kitten. The mean grown up man who lives at my house said, "hell no" to Ethan's and my request for a new puppy, but you never know. Maybe under the tree this year I'll find a baby kitten to potty train. Or a cleaning lady. I hope the cleaning lady is already potty trained, as long as she doesn't pee on my floor and cleans it up if she does, who am I to judge?
As I said, I had FIVE days off. During those five days, I've accomplished very little. I did go see my "happy doctor" to renew my bitch-be-gone pills. She wanted me to get stronger ones, but I opted for the fish-oil placebo pills and trying to find a hobby instead. She had me chart out my day on a spread sheet. Black was for school, doing school work at home, and thinking about work- also known as "being scared the naughty children will eat me alive". There was A LOT of black. Orange was for sports related times; being at a sporting event, listening to sport talk, and having to watch sports on TV. I don't like sports, so we changed that color to brown, being it's dull for me. Red is for cooking and cleaning. Both things I don't really enjoy. If I could clean and it would stay that way, I'd like it more- same with the cooking. I'd like to cook once a week and call it good. But BOYS - ALL of them- don't clean up after themselves and they keep insisting on eating, especially now that Michelle Obama is starving them at school. I was supposed to have pink, my favorite color, be my "me/fun time". I had no pink. Happy doctor, who usually just blinks at me and says nothing, told me I "had to find a hobby", and apparently drinking is not one she medically approves of. I threw out a few more examples, reading-but it makes me more tired than I am and pink time turns into blue/sleep time. Scrap booking- but that make me more anxious, calling for more medication/fish oil/beer because I am overwhelmed by how far behind I am (5 plus years). Painting the walls in my house, which ARE more fun than scraping wall paper, but it's a big job and I need to undertake this hobby thing with baby steps. Jewelry making is the one that won out. I found jewelry making is a very expensive hobby (much more than Coors Light) and I may need a part-time job to support my "hobby", which I don't have time for right now the way it is. I did buy some beads and supplies, and I don't want to let the cat out of the bag, but all the moms of the player's on Noah's Cougar team is going to get an EXCITING black and orange gift for Christmas.