Gripe

Yesterday I walked into work and one of my Kindergarten students ran up to me and hugged me around the waist. While this is not an uncommon occurrence, as most days I am hugged by someone waist-high, I was a little shocked to see who was hugging me.  This boy, a student, is one I struggle with most days.

Right after hugging me he tilted his head up toward mine and said without prompt, "Hey. My mama says that if you have a gripe about my lunch today that you should give her a call."

Right.

I look over to see my boss standing a few feet away from me and I look down to this still attached student and say, "That's silly.  Why don't you come over here and tell Ms. D. what you just told me."  I give the student a big grin.  He jovially agrees and runs over to Ms. D. and repeats the offensive sentence to her dismay, as she had a discussion of appropriate lunch items only the day before with his Dad.

The previous day, this particular student had brought for his lunch a: bottle of chocolate milk (approx. 80 grams of sugar), a bag of colored mini marshmallows, and a jelly sandwich on white bread. Our school follows state standards, and each child must have 2 fruits and veggie servings, 1 bread or grain carb serving, 1 dairy serving, and 1 protein serving.

Later yesterday I walked the children into the lunchroom and this same student while unpacking his lunch decided to wear his brown paper sack as a hat.  The entire lunchroom waited until he removed the bag to say the lunch prayer, and he got so mad at me that I made him remove his hat, that he refused to eat.  He did not eat one morsel of food.  That and he had healthier lunch components.

It was a long day.

15 year old Politics

I drive my daughter and three other high school students to school during the school year.  Two boys...two girls...all roughly 15 years old.  Fifteen.  

One of the boys is, to put it mildly, not my favorite 15 year old.  He is smart mouthed, racist, foul mouthed, and very opinionated.  He is a bully.  He bad-mouths his girlfriend, the other girl in the car, and has even said to her that she "needs to go on Weight Watchers" in my presence.  I have threatened to throw him out of the car and not give him a ride before, but previously only in jest because I think he is a tool.

On Tuesday, he started in on politics as I sat in the front seat trying to keep my cool.  He comes from a three generation household, 24 hour a day Fox news watching family, and his father just retired from the military after a long career.  You can probably guess what "his" political affiliation is, but that is not relevant to the story.  Neither is mine.  Who cares if I am voting to elect or re-elect?  This boy-child begins bashing a certain candidate.  When he stops to take a breath he says, "You know Mrs. Careless (to me) it's called freedom of speech.  I have the right to speak freely"

Before I knew it I retorted, "You know, it's called freedom of choice kid. And I have the right to throw your ass out of my car."

Let's just say the car went silent.  I continued, "And, last time I checked I am a registered voter in this state, and you don't have the right to vote for some 3 more years?"

The other boy in the back seat meekly inquired, "Did you want us to just get out here then?"

This is all about respect.  This punk kid has the audacity to disrespect me in my own vehicle while I am doing a favor to his parents?  I don't know what would have happened to me had I disrespected an adult as a teenager.  I honestly doubt I would be here today.

Upon reflection I am reminded of one of my top 10 movies, The American President.  What I should have said?  I should have spouted a retort like President Andrew Shepherd...

"You want free speech? Let's see you acknowledge a man whose words make your blood boil, who's standing center stage and advocating at the top of his lungs that which you would spend a lifetime opposing at the top of yours. You want to claim this land as the land of the free?..."

Sweat-y

I was shopping in Meijer with the kids the other day and Bubba saw the display of sweat pants.  He went crazy.  Apparently he has had a dream to own a pair of sweatpants and matching sweatshirt for quite awhile now, and I never knew.  

It was negotiated, and I agreed to purchase a sweatsuit for his lounging use only.  He can NOT wear the assemble out of the house.  He hemmed and hawed and settled on a dark grey pant and matching crew neck top to his delight..  Who knew?

Bubba was so excited, he took the bag containing the purchase into the back seat with him and had stripped and changed before I even made the first trip into the house with the bags of groceries when we arrived home.

A few days later I walked in the door from work to find Bubba in his sweatsuit (3rd day in a row) playing a video game.  He saw me walk in the door and ran up to me excitedly talking.  "Mom!  Mom!  These are the most comfortable things ever.  I LOVE my new sweatsuit."

His enthusiasm was met with a "That's nice, Bubba."  

Bubba then ran over and got the Sunday shopping inserts and turned to a page and exclaimed, "And guess what?  I can wear these forever!  Look!  They make sweats in adult sizes too!  Why don't all adults wear sweats ALL the time?"

Oi vey.  

The New Me

Yes, it has been awhile.  Tonight I was talking on the phone with Matt, my brother, about his blog.  Matt proposed that I write something for his blog, as a guest blogger, and the thought excited me!  But then I thought, what the heck?  I have my own soapbox!  So here I am.  Sorry for my absence.

In a nut shell, here is what has happened in the last few months...

-my kids are still as crazy as ever and are the primary source for this blog.
-my dog got rid of her mohawk.  Recently.
-we gave away our sugar gliders last weekend. Hundreds of dollars down the drain.
-I got divorced.
-5 seconds after the flying squirrels left my kids started in on a new dog.
-I still live in the same house as my ex-husband.
-Hannah didn't make the HS soccer team, so both kids are playing rec.
-I'm still in grad school and doing well, but also freaking out occasionally.
-I am considering dating.
-I grew my hair out and dyed it blonde.
-my ex-husband and I are friends.
-my evil and irritating tweenage "boss" left (was let go) and I took her position.
-I am starting over with a social life.
-I am venturing out of my shell and making friends.
-I recently rammed a bus into a basketball hoop at the local elementary school and ripped a hole in the top of the bus and my boss didn't fire me.
-I feel better than I have in years emotionally.
-I recently (4 days ago) gave up sugar, flour, and dairy.
-I am still very much a crazy person.

Any questions?  

Chores

This morning I went off to work and left a note on the kitchen counter for Hannah.  The note read..."Dog needs a haircut."




When I walked into the house this was how I was greeted...

I love my daughter.  Apparently if she doesn't get into college she'll have a booming career as a dog groomer of mohawks.

Fast

Because I'm always a glutton for punishment, or wanting to improve myself, "we," as in the royal we, decided that our family was going to go on a cleansing fast of fruits and vegetables.  Day one.  Today. Nothing but fruit.  Day two.  Veggies.


Let me just interject here and say that my 11 year old and 14 year old were never told to stick to this cleanse, but encouraged to participate in order to add more fruits and vegetables to their non-stop stream of junk food since the end of the school year.  I am not advocating that growing teens and pre-teens cleanse diet.


Day one.  Nothing but fruit.  The day starts well...yummy fruit...mmmm.  Everyone has fruit to the hearts desire.  Apples, mango, pineapple, pears, blueberries...really yummy.  Until about noon.  The kids start whining.  I suggest they add some turkey to their cleanse because lean meats are healthy and they could use a little protein.  They head to the fridge and eat a package of turkey lunchmeat.


Around one I get a text from David.  Does beer count?  We volley back and forth and I suggest that beverages, within reason, should be okay since I really need a diet coke about this time of the day.  We agree that milkshakes, while they sound really good and could be acquired in many fruity flavors, would be unreasonable.


Two o'clock comes and Hannah is about to die from starvation and breaks down and eats a turkey wrap with her fruit.  Bubba needs a turkey sandwich, and both are commended for adding so many fruit and veggies to their day.  Woot!  I beat them!  I'm still in the competition, because everything is a competition to me.


Four o'clock comes around and my tongue is sore from all the pineapple I have eaten.  David gets caught with a Choibani Yogurt, and tells the kids "it's just pineapple...in a thick broth."


So as of 5:00 p.m. on day one of the fast, I am declaring myself the winner.  While the other three still think they are in the game, we all know that I won.  

2 fer

Two in one day!  Freaking fabulous.  I just have to say that customer service/manners/let's all be a little flexible was NOT the theme for the day 'round these parts.

First scenario.  I'm doing a bit of research (BTW...LOVING it!) for a paper due on the 25th.  It's a quickie, and I'm acing the class thus far, so I *think* I should be able to pull this off.  I decided that since I hadn't looked at school work in a day or so that I would haul myself and my kids down to the Greene County Library and see what they had in their Greene County room.  You know, 'cuz my research paper is about local art history education.

I walk into the GC Library room and notice that not only do they have an entire row of library computers 20-ish) that are vacant, only ONE old man is in the room looking through microfilm besides the three library employees present.  THREE.  (These numbers are key).

I very pleasantly walk up to the librarian/research helper at the desk and ask for a bit of help.  She looks up from her crossword irritated.  Strike one.  I ask my research question and she looks at me and says that they don't have anything on my subject.  Hmm.  What?  You are an expert in your field and you have the library memorized so you know you DON'T HAVE ANYTHING.  Strike two.  Ms. pain in my butt says that my subject is in a different county and so their archive of papers wouldn't have anything about my subject.  Let me clarify.  Different county, a stones throw away from where I am standing.

So, let me get this straight.  You have the library memorized.  You know everything.  I am an idiot.  Ok...got it.

Ms. pain in the butt librarian, huffs and asks what the date of the event I am researching is.  May 1974, I say in my pure maple syrup voice.  So the librarian gets the microfilm for May 1974, puts it in the machine and walks away.

SOMEONE needs to work on their people skills.

What I would like to say is "There is this new invention...it's called a computer...can you check your archives for my subject?"  Pretty please?

The third strike you ask?  Employee number two comes over to me and informs me that my two children are quietly sitting in the research room using one of the twenty unused computers.  Can I please get them to stop?  Seriously?  I look around for the line of people waiting and find no one.  Oh yeah, that's right.

Scenario two.

I'm feeling spend'y so I take my kids to the 1.75 theater for a movie.  We walk in and realize we have the entire theater to ourselves, sit down, and make ourselves comfortable.  5 minutes into the movie two women walk in, take two seats near the back and decide to noisily eat popcorn and drink cans of Red Bull.  Okay...

Fifteen minutes later, the horror of all horrors arrives and sits RIGHT BEHIND ME.  Remember?  Empty theater, save two other people.  The horror then decides to crack multiple cans of soda, then takes out her giant purse of cellophane wrapped mints and vacillate between unwrapping and popping mints and eating a crinkly bag of Fritos.  You know the type.  She is one of those movie goers that laughs really inappropriately, reads all the street signs out loud to herself, and basically could not go a minute without making obnoxiously loud noise.  Matt (my brother), think Ice Age lady.

If you didn't know this about me, I am the one in the theater that moves twice before the movie starts because people are too talky.  If we are going to see a movie for the first time together, I will tell you that I will NOT talk to you during the film, and chew with your mouth closed.

I've decided that I am not going to the theater again (I know, I am lying) and only watch videos at home.  Sometimes I think I really do hate people.

Diseases

I know.  I know.  It's been awhile, and I'm ignoring you.  Sorry.  Too many excuses to name, and you don't really care, do you?

A funny thing happened yesterday, on the way to the grocery store and I thought of you.  So here we are.

Bubba is sitting in the front seat of the car, Hannah in the back, because ever since my sister came up with the non-fighting rule of "shotgun months," that war was averted.  Instead of calling shotgun, you get an entire month of shotgun, and the other sibling has to sit in the backseat.  This, works like a charm!  It's amazing that it works so well, and like a pesky monthly visitor, you can always tell when it's the first of the month, because a new person is sitting next to you.  Bubba and Hannah ALWAYS seem to know when it's the first, without being reminded.

So Bubba is in the front seat, and he takes off his flip flops and starts examining his feet.  Nice, huh?  Do all 12 year old boys do this?  Take it from me, they are weird.  So he's examining his feet and he announces that they are "bad again," meaning his rash is back.  See?  Boys are gross.  Bubba, to be funny, thrusts one of his nasty feet in my driving space, for me to examine his rash.  While I'm driving.  I tell him to put his feet down (thinking it's unsafe) while Hannah finishes my sentence saying, "because no one wants your Syphilis."

Instant hysterics.  Bubba  really has Psoriasis, or maybe really bad athletes foot, we don't know because I keep forgetting to make a doctor appointment.  Hannah, in her hilarity, continues with how he really needs to get some medicine for his FTD's, foot transmitted diseases, and get this skin condition under control.

It's going to be a long summer.