Last week was parent/teacher conferences at the kids' school. Conferences are always a mixed bag around here because, while I love hearing about how charming and socially adapted my children are, I always dread that academically I will get a bad report from the people entrusted to teaching my children what my husband calls "book learnin'". And if you'll recall, it was parent/teacher conference day three years ago that Abby called her 4th grade teacher "dude". There's a reason I dread them.
As a kid, I loved school. I lived for school. School was wonderful and amazing and exciting and OH SO FULL OF LEARNING. AND BOOKS! Even though I struggled in math I still didn't get my first F until Algebra I in 9th grade. I was a straight A student (except for dadgummed Algebra) from K-12. I aimed for perfection and was determined to achieve it. Failing wasn't an option.
My husband was the youngest of three boys who was raised by his mother alone (because his father was an abusive, deadbeat alcoholic who split for the hill when the boys were little) worked three to four jobs and went to school at night to become an LPN . School was merely something he had to do because the law required it. He struggled with reading and English and if he couldn't figure the work out on his own it didn't get done because his brothers didn't/couldn't/wouldn't help him. His mom did the absolute best she could given the circumstances. Paul was the only one of his brothers to graduate high school.
So the fact that I have always been anal retentive about learning and grades paired with the fact that Paul was determined that his children have all the opportunities he didn't, has always made parent/teacher conferences very stressful for the both of us. I am, however, careful to not put undue pressure on my kids because I'd rather them not end up in therapy, chain smoking on a couch, talking about how they could never live up to expectations. And maybe mentioning wire hangers.
We have never expected perfection from our kids, but we expect effort. We don't pay money for good grades on the report cards, but we do praise the heck out of our kids when they try. Noticeable and marked improvement on the final report card in May gets them a special day alone with Mom. One year it was a manicure and ice cream for Abby, Kady got a movie and we didn't even sneak treats in my purse, but bought them at the actual concession stand and Sam usually chooses McDonald's and a movie with contraband treats. The grades don't have to be A's, but they have to be their best effort.
From Kindergarten through 2nd grade I got nothing but "brilliant!" from Abby's teachers. From Pre-K through 3rd grade I got "brilliant!" from Sam's teachers. Kady's in 2nd and I'm still getting "brilliant!" from hers (and I am secretly hoping she doesn't follow in the footsteps of her older siblings). In 3rd grade Abby decided that school was stupid and quit trying. She developed a fierce and sudden case of apathy and it's taken from 3rd grade until now to convince her that school is not the enemy. She is finally making decent grades again. Not all A's, but good solid B's and C's. I'm ecstatic. Starting last year Sam decided that since school was no longer super duper easy that he would just give up and not try. He's smart, but if he has to work for something a little more than he feels he should have to he throws his hands in the air and possibly throws himself face-first into his beanbag and cries all evening and throws Legos and rips up school work that I later have to tape back together while he pouts next to me. Kady has nothing lower than a 97% in anything on her latest grade report. Her older siblings may very well corner her in an alley and beat her with a tire tool in the near future.
On conference day last week Sam came in from school and said, "I have something to tell you.....no wait. I'll just let Mrs. K." I said, "Oh no you don't, mister. You just spill it." Then he tearfully proceeded to tell me he had failed a Social Studies test that morning thereby dropping his overall grade to 67 (a D) and thereby landing his butt on academic probation and thereby getting temporarily kicked off Student Council until the grade comes up. He failed the test because he thought studying for it was lame.
*sigh*
Right now Sam is just disorganized and well, honestly puberty is kicking his butt. He is dealing with emotions and weird feelings and body odor and basketball and bullies and school is just pretty low on the priority list in the midst of all the other stuff. His teacher said I should be super thankful he's not girl crazy on top of it all. Thank God for small favors. She also said his whole entire class has checked out for the time being and they are all goofy as run-over dogs, so not to worry too awful much about it. Just encourage him and all that. Try not to beat him. Get him to focus and stay organized. Riiiiight. Ever tried putting cooked spaghetti through the holes in a screen door? IT'S SIMPLER.
So last night he brought home a study guide for a test today. We went over and over and over it and really, if he doesn't ace that thing I'll be surprised. Oh and you can quiz me on the port cities of the eastern colonies and I will SO KNOW THEM. At one point while we were grilling him he decided that the commercial on TV was way more engaging (TV OFF at that point) and I have a cold and am testy as it is and hooooeeee I just kind of uhm.....lost it.
I was sitting here on the couch lecturing the heck out of my only son, the son who will someday (hopefully) carry on the Hoover name, the son who will give me my only daughter-in-law, the son who in Pre-K said I was his best fwend....and he was getting closer and closer to tears..... and I thought I was getting through to him. And then his father decided to get in on all the parental lecturing fun. That is never, ever good.
Have I mentioned once or twice that my husband is a redneck?
Once, while lecturing Abby the man said, "And listen here, missy. Let me just tell you how the cat ate the cabbage." The correct colloquialism is "how the cow ate the cabbage" because....uhm....cats don't eat cabbage as a general rule. And cows do. And while Abby didn't catch it I, however, busted up laughing and the severity of the lecture was lost.
Last night was no different.
I told Sam I had noticed that after he uses the website the teacher set up for spelling practice he has consistently made a much higher grade on his weekly spelling tests, rather than the weeks he plays around at addictinggames.com when he just thinks I don't notice what he's doing and he bombs the tests pitifully. I said, "Now son....the proof is in the pudding.....studying gets you higher grades, plain and simple." And my darling husband, so willing to support me in my train of thought said, "Yeah, son, like your mother said, the poop is in the pudding."
He knew as soon as he said it it wasn't right and he ever-so-slightly leaned over to me and quietly asked, "Uh....why is there poop in the pudding? And why do we care? I don't get it."
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
Monday, February 08, 2010
Thursday, February 04, 2010
The Air was Thick with Excitement
First off, I guess I should let the masses know that indeed we did survive the Icepocalypse. Or should I say The Icepocalypse That Never Was at Least for Here and That's the Place I was Most Concerned About No Offense to Anyone Else that Did Experience Its Icy Doom.
We got a pretty good amount of snow, but very little ice. It was very anticlimactic after all the preparation and worrying and continual checking of the NOAA website and the buying bread and toilet paper and such. Our power never flickered and we stayed nice and toasty the whole time. My sister, however, was iced in for several days down south of here. Festivus was postponed yet again due to several facts. 1) We here at the Diva Ranch are the Official Host Family of Festivus and our road was impassable to anyone without 4WD. There was talk of an alternate location, but considering 2) Sis was iced in down by the City and another cousin and his family were iced in in Yukon AND his wife had the flu, it was again just put on hold. I have such a dadgum good tacky gift this year I refuse to let it go by the wayside. It may be a Festivus Cookout by the time we have it, but I will keep pushing to have it rescheduled.
Basketball was canceled last weekend due to the snow. We could've made it, but man, we didn't want to, so we weren't too upset when they called the games.
Sam is apparently playing guard now which I think is good, but don't quote me on that. The only reason I know that is because when Coach was hollering at the boys for goofing off and not doing a play right he said something about the guards and grabbed Sam as an example. So yay. Go guards! Or something. He took a pretty good verbal tirade from Coach week before last and there were tears of frustration and declarations of "I QUIT!" but I had to tough love my boy and explain, "Coach has a job of making sure you boys play a good game. You have a job on the court, playing that good game. You played some pretty rotten ball tonight, son. He did his job. You didn't." Ouch. That was painful to say and he didn't enjoy hearing it. He's still undecided on playing middle school ball next year. We keep assuring him it will be better, less chaotic and he really will enjoy it more. He has potential and is good (when he pays attention), but if he doesn't want to there's no point in playing.
Kady is playing something out there, but we're not sure what. If there are positions, the girls have no idea what they are. Right now, in 2nd and 3rd grade they are out there for victory and blood and utter annihilation of their opponents. We are called very hard by the refs because we somehow got a reputation as the most aggressive team in the league, but after playing a Wyandotte team that had a player who drew blood on three of our girls and left our babies sobbing and crying they weren't EVER going to go back out on that court again and a Welch team that has some slappers and pinchers, we don't know how that rumor got started. I'd like to think it's not a personal issue amongst certain adults in the league, but I'm afraid that's what it is. It's elementary ball, folks. It's not the WNBA. These girls wear hair bows and paint their nails in the team colors and have striped knee socks and it's supposed to be fun while they learn the fundamentals. It can get competitive when they're older. Geesh.
And I eat nachos for at least one meal, sometimes two, every Saturday. Basketball season rawks.
During the Not Ice Storm, while my internet was sketchy at best, I got an email from the Comedy Examiner (that's their fancy word for "the reporter who looks for funny stuff") with the Oklahoma City Examiner asking if I'd be interesting in being featured in her column this week. Uh....YEAH.
The interview is here. Read it please. Oh, and thank you.
Tonight is the Tulsa Blogger Meet-Up. I am ever so excited. Ever. Paul got his undies in a bunch over me going by myself so I told him he could go, too. I think he thought I'd back out, but I was like, "Come on, bubba! Let's go hang with some bloggahs!" As it's gotten closer to today he has been more cranky about it. Then last night on the weather he was like, "Oh darn. It's supposed to snow. Can't go. Too bad. Sorry, honey." NOT. I have checked the NOAA website all day and yes, there's rain and yes, there will probably some snow, but nothing significant and nothing treacherous. Then awhile ago my momma offered to go with me to rescue Paul and still allow me to go. I laughed and then was just touched because she doesn't "get" the whole blogging thing and yet was still willing to spend a night with a whole room of us. She's a good momma. I told her thanks, but I didn't want her to feel like Baby in Dirty Dancing and be like, in a corner all night. Then I was reading comments on Tasha's post about tonight and TWO OTHER BLOGGERS are bringing their mothers! Kelly had offered to ply my husband with beverages so I could go, so Kelly, you can keep your money now - Momma's a preacher's wife. LOL
We got a pretty good amount of snow, but very little ice. It was very anticlimactic after all the preparation and worrying and continual checking of the NOAA website and the buying bread and toilet paper and such. Our power never flickered and we stayed nice and toasty the whole time. My sister, however, was iced in for several days down south of here. Festivus was postponed yet again due to several facts. 1) We here at the Diva Ranch are the Official Host Family of Festivus and our road was impassable to anyone without 4WD. There was talk of an alternate location, but considering 2) Sis was iced in down by the City and another cousin and his family were iced in in Yukon AND his wife had the flu, it was again just put on hold. I have such a dadgum good tacky gift this year I refuse to let it go by the wayside. It may be a Festivus Cookout by the time we have it, but I will keep pushing to have it rescheduled.
Basketball was canceled last weekend due to the snow. We could've made it, but man, we didn't want to, so we weren't too upset when they called the games.
Sam is apparently playing guard now which I think is good, but don't quote me on that. The only reason I know that is because when Coach was hollering at the boys for goofing off and not doing a play right he said something about the guards and grabbed Sam as an example. So yay. Go guards! Or something. He took a pretty good verbal tirade from Coach week before last and there were tears of frustration and declarations of "I QUIT!" but I had to tough love my boy and explain, "Coach has a job of making sure you boys play a good game. You have a job on the court, playing that good game. You played some pretty rotten ball tonight, son. He did his job. You didn't." Ouch. That was painful to say and he didn't enjoy hearing it. He's still undecided on playing middle school ball next year. We keep assuring him it will be better, less chaotic and he really will enjoy it more. He has potential and is good (when he pays attention), but if he doesn't want to there's no point in playing.
Kady is playing something out there, but we're not sure what. If there are positions, the girls have no idea what they are. Right now, in 2nd and 3rd grade they are out there for victory and blood and utter annihilation of their opponents. We are called very hard by the refs because we somehow got a reputation as the most aggressive team in the league, but after playing a Wyandotte team that had a player who drew blood on three of our girls and left our babies sobbing and crying they weren't EVER going to go back out on that court again and a Welch team that has some slappers and pinchers, we don't know how that rumor got started. I'd like to think it's not a personal issue amongst certain adults in the league, but I'm afraid that's what it is. It's elementary ball, folks. It's not the WNBA. These girls wear hair bows and paint their nails in the team colors and have striped knee socks and it's supposed to be fun while they learn the fundamentals. It can get competitive when they're older. Geesh.
And I eat nachos for at least one meal, sometimes two, every Saturday. Basketball season rawks.
During the Not Ice Storm, while my internet was sketchy at best, I got an email from the Comedy Examiner (that's their fancy word for "the reporter who looks for funny stuff") with the Oklahoma City Examiner asking if I'd be interesting in being featured in her column this week. Uh....YEAH.
The interview is here. Read it please. Oh, and thank you.
Tonight is the Tulsa Blogger Meet-Up. I am ever so excited. Ever. Paul got his undies in a bunch over me going by myself so I told him he could go, too. I think he thought I'd back out, but I was like, "Come on, bubba! Let's go hang with some bloggahs!" As it's gotten closer to today he has been more cranky about it. Then last night on the weather he was like, "Oh darn. It's supposed to snow. Can't go. Too bad. Sorry, honey." NOT. I have checked the NOAA website all day and yes, there's rain and yes, there will probably some snow, but nothing significant and nothing treacherous. Then awhile ago my momma offered to go with me to rescue Paul and still allow me to go. I laughed and then was just touched because she doesn't "get" the whole blogging thing and yet was still willing to spend a night with a whole room of us. She's a good momma. I told her thanks, but I didn't want her to feel like Baby in Dirty Dancing and be like, in a corner all night. Then I was reading comments on Tasha's post about tonight and TWO OTHER BLOGGERS are bringing their mothers! Kelly had offered to ply my husband with beverages so I could go, so Kelly, you can keep your money now - Momma's a preacher's wife. LOL
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Icepocalypse! And links!
I am feeling particularly uninspired today because I'm on bigtime pins and needles waiting for this HORRIBLE! TREACHEROUS! DEATH, DESPAIR AND HISTORICALLY SIGNIFICANT ICE! storm that's heading this way. Yahfreakinhoo.
We could either get 1/2" to 1" of ice and 4-6" of snow -- or we could get bupkis. I've never seen a storm so full of ninja-like stealth and mystery. Gary England, Mike Collier, Gary Bandy, Travis Meyer, Doug Heady and the NOAA are stumped as to what, when and where this storm will be at any given time. Sometimes I think God just does stuff like this to make us remember that technology isn't all that.
So instead of a "real" post today I'll do a few shout-outs to some blogger folks, events and sites I like. It's a total cop-out in the creativity department, but just as labor-intensive if not more. (All! That! Linking!) My hope, however, is that maybe you'll find some new reading material and/or time-wasters. I'm all about time-wasters.
First up, is Kellyology. For one thing, she's having a birthday TODAY and she's officially a Cougar. Rawr.
Kelly is also sporting a new blog design courtesy of With a Southern Flair who just happens to be the gal who overhauled my own blog look. If you're in the market for a kickin' new design, custom embroidery (I hear she does Snuggies!) or heck, knowing her she's probably even good at tile grout, give her a holler.
I have recently become enamored with a site called My Life is Average, or MLIA as all the cool kids call it. If you have ever felt your life was just a little too average, check out this site. Most of the posts are from teens or college students and some are outrageously far-fetched, but I still can't stop reading them! I have spent many an evening reading the posts out loud to my family. (Well, only on the nights I have the remote hidden under my Snuggie. On those nights I call the shots and they have no choice but to listen.)
Woot.com is one of those sites I am utterly intrigued by. I have yet to order anything from them because the deals post at Midnight and uhm...yeah, bedtime for me is before that. Because I'm old. The really good stuff is snatched up nearly as soon as it posts, but if you're a night owl and love to shop online, woot yourself on over and grab up a bargain or two. The t-shirt designs are worth going over to see. I love me some geeky t-shirts.
Miss Wisabus -- That's all I have to say. Just go.
I can't post all these links without giving some love to People of Walmart and Cake Wrecks because well, we all like to see everyone else's messes, too, right?
Kiddies - okay, Oklahoma blogging kiddies - you have less than a week left to get in your nominations for the 2009 Oklahoma Blog Awards, an event I personally always look forward to so that I can either get my ego boosted or crushed. Either way, we're all winners, right? RIGHT? There are some new categories this year and Jen seems to be handling the running of the whole shebang quite well. Major props to her for taking the reigns in Mike's absence!
ATTENTION: I am going to this. Did you see that? I AM GOING TO THIS! I AM! I AM!
Well, providing we 1) survive the Icepocalypse and 2) can make it there safely without sliding into a ditch, getting stuck and having to use my iPod for warmth or to beat my husband over the head until he is unconscious. But yeah, we'll be there. "We" as in myself and my husband. Kellyology has already offered to buy him beverages if he'll just let me go, so the dude is all kinds of on board. If anyone else would like to extend such an offer you will only insure the excitement of meeting me so keeps those offers coming, kiddies!
And finally, in honor of the impending DOOM! of the forthcoming Icepocalypse, go read Tasha's list of what to have on hand during an Oklahoma ice storm and JenX67's list of lessons from the worst ice storm ever. Stay safe, stay warm and remember, fellow Okies, tornado season is just around the corner!
We could either get 1/2" to 1" of ice and 4-6" of snow -- or we could get bupkis. I've never seen a storm so full of ninja-like stealth and mystery. Gary England, Mike Collier, Gary Bandy, Travis Meyer, Doug Heady and the NOAA are stumped as to what, when and where this storm will be at any given time. Sometimes I think God just does stuff like this to make us remember that technology isn't all that.
So instead of a "real" post today I'll do a few shout-outs to some blogger folks, events and sites I like. It's a total cop-out in the creativity department, but just as labor-intensive if not more. (All! That! Linking!) My hope, however, is that maybe you'll find some new reading material and/or time-wasters. I'm all about time-wasters.
First up, is Kellyology. For one thing, she's having a birthday TODAY and she's officially a Cougar. Rawr.
Kelly is also sporting a new blog design courtesy of With a Southern Flair who just happens to be the gal who overhauled my own blog look. If you're in the market for a kickin' new design, custom embroidery (I hear she does Snuggies!) or heck, knowing her she's probably even good at tile grout, give her a holler.
I have recently become enamored with a site called My Life is Average, or MLIA as all the cool kids call it. If you have ever felt your life was just a little too average, check out this site. Most of the posts are from teens or college students and some are outrageously far-fetched, but I still can't stop reading them! I have spent many an evening reading the posts out loud to my family. (Well, only on the nights I have the remote hidden under my Snuggie. On those nights I call the shots and they have no choice but to listen.)
Woot.com is one of those sites I am utterly intrigued by. I have yet to order anything from them because the deals post at Midnight and uhm...yeah, bedtime for me is before that. Because I'm old. The really good stuff is snatched up nearly as soon as it posts, but if you're a night owl and love to shop online, woot yourself on over and grab up a bargain or two. The t-shirt designs are worth going over to see. I love me some geeky t-shirts.
Miss Wisabus -- That's all I have to say. Just go.
I can't post all these links without giving some love to People of Walmart and Cake Wrecks because well, we all like to see everyone else's messes, too, right?
Kiddies - okay, Oklahoma blogging kiddies - you have less than a week left to get in your nominations for the 2009 Oklahoma Blog Awards, an event I personally always look forward to so that I can either get my ego boosted or crushed. Either way, we're all winners, right? RIGHT? There are some new categories this year and Jen seems to be handling the running of the whole shebang quite well. Major props to her for taking the reigns in Mike's absence!
ATTENTION: I am going to this. Did you see that? I AM GOING TO THIS! I AM! I AM!
Well, providing we 1) survive the Icepocalypse and 2) can make it there safely without sliding into a ditch, getting stuck and having to use my iPod for warmth or to beat my husband over the head until he is unconscious. But yeah, we'll be there. "We" as in myself and my husband. Kellyology has already offered to buy him beverages if he'll just let me go, so the dude is all kinds of on board. If anyone else would like to extend such an offer you will only insure the excitement of meeting me so keeps those offers coming, kiddies!
And finally, in honor of the impending DOOM! of the forthcoming Icepocalypse, go read Tasha's list of what to have on hand during an Oklahoma ice storm and JenX67's list of lessons from the worst ice storm ever. Stay safe, stay warm and remember, fellow Okies, tornado season is just around the corner!
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Thirty Seven
Thursday was my birthday and well, I get pretty excited about having a day that's pretty much all about me. I don't like the whole getting older thing that goes along with it, but I do like me some attention and presents.
I was flying pretty high what with the whole being on the front page of the newspaper on Tuesday (for winning 1st place at the Park of Lights) (WOOT!, btw) and then having my SECOND column for WelchOK.com published and then knowing my baby sister was going to be in town this weekend and I would actually get to SEE her (something I haven't done since November) and of course,anticipated birthday presents and all that -- when I had the rug of happiness jerked out from under me on Wednesday evening. I am fine, but let me just say that the phrase "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me" is a LIE because words hurt plenty. I'm not going into it because I'm not ready, but I might be someday. And I might not. But I can tell you this: I have a wonderful mother.
After my crying subsided and Mom made me feel better (as mommas are wont to do) she said, "That settles it. Tomorrow I'm picking you up in the morning and we're spending the whole day together." Of course, because her awesomeness is overwhelming at times I busted into tears again. She had already planned on taking me to lunch on my birthday, but now the prospect of a whole day out of the house with my mom? SUH-WEET. She needed to visit her flea market booth and do some rearranging and invited Conner and I to tag along. It sounded spectacular.
Thursday was a rainy day, but then again most of my birthdays have been. Well, except for the ones where we were snowed in. Thanks to global warming now I just have sloshy birthdays. She walked in the front door with a bottle of laundry detergent and a 12-roll pack of toilet paper and really, had those been my only presents I'd have been stoked beyond belief, but no, she had MORE. A bottle of perfume and two bottles of lotion ALONG WITH Young Doctor Frankenstein, a movie I still laugh at until I wheeze and it never ceases to be funny. The rain could in no way damper what had started off as a spectacular morning.
We loaded her flea marketjunk items into my van, plunked Conner into his carseat and off we headed to the big town of Miami. First stop? Her office to sign a paper. I know, try to contain the excitement, Diva, we're not sure we can handle it. Second stop? The water board to pay my water bill. Then DHS to turn in some paperwork. I KNOW! We were on FIRE! It was then 10:30 and we didn't have time to go the flea market and back before lunch, but it was a smidge to early to actually go eat lunch. Driving down Main we pondered all the possibilities of a time-killer in Miami, America, and decided there are none unless you want to go to Walmart. Neither of us wanted to do that, so we settled on Dollar Tree.
I love me some Dollar Tree. We let Conner play with the balloons they fill with helium and let the strings dangle into your face right there on Aisle One. The lady working there wasn't happy, but hey, they're the ones that let those things dangle like that. We both busted into spontaneous song on Aisle Three with a loud, scary version on Neil Diamond's "Heart Light" and I still don't remember why, but needless to say it was HILARIOUS. We scored three GIGANTO ink pens for the kids to take to Disney World this December (the characters need the big pens to sign autographs because well....they're big) and Mom bought me FIVE packages of fruit-flavored Mentos. I love me some Mentos, too. Nom nom.
After wasting 45 minutes in Dollar Tree, the Taj Mahal of Cheapness, we traveled to Stonehill Grill for lunch and then it was off to the flea market. Conner took about a 15 minute nap on the way and I had hoped he'd continue snoozing for awhile, but one yip from the little dog roaming the aisles and he awoke with a "oof", ready to play. We helped Mom with her booths - and by helped I mean we basically stood in the way and provided comic relief. I mean, how cute and hilarious is it to see a 19 month old adorable little boy using a 14" embroidery hoop as a steering wheel to drive up and down the aisles? Little old ladies and men were coming back there just to see him.
We came back to the house about an hour before the bus was supposed to get here and dove into the scrumptious cake Mom made me - a Better Than Almost Anything cake. Oh good golly, cake that wonderful should probably illegal everywhere except Las Vegas. After cake Mom was introduced to the wonderfulness that is a Snuggie. She loved it so much she promptly fell asleep in my big chair while Conner watched Dora and I put some pictures on a memory stick for her new digital picture frame. The kids got home from school and got some Grammy loves before she had to rush off to Bunko, then I threw some PB&J at the kids before ball practice ..... and that was my 37th birthday.
I saw Sis last night at the boys' second basketball game (the first one coincided with Kady's second game of the day so Paul and I divided and conquered) and at the game she presented me with Season 1 of Glee on DVD and an AFLAC duck that quacks AFLAAAAAAAC and makes me laugh like a giddy four year old. The DVD itself was enough to put her in Best Sister Category for like, ever, but the duck threw her over and then some.
Now to round out what was about a 98% AWESOME week Kady has acquired a phenomenal stomach virus which landed she and I on the couch last night, her yarking every 45 minutes and me holding her hair back, breathing through my mouth and trying not to join in. (I hereby apologize to all the members of the 2nd and 3rd grade A team for any spontaneous yarking your own daughters may now do.) This week's plans include preparing for Icepocalypse which is supposed to hit on Thursday. BE YE WARNED. I'm going to Walmart on Tuesday to stock up on toilet paper and sugar and tortilla chips and soup, so if you wanna meet up give me a holla. If you plan on being hysterical and jerking the Quilted Northern from my hands you can stay at home or riskbeing punched in the back of the head a sharp verbal reprimand from yours truly. Either way it should be fun!
I was flying pretty high what with the whole being on the front page of the newspaper on Tuesday (for winning 1st place at the Park of Lights) (WOOT!, btw) and then having my SECOND column for WelchOK.com published and then knowing my baby sister was going to be in town this weekend and I would actually get to SEE her (something I haven't done since November) and of course,anticipated birthday presents and all that -- when I had the rug of happiness jerked out from under me on Wednesday evening. I am fine, but let me just say that the phrase "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me" is a LIE because words hurt plenty. I'm not going into it because I'm not ready, but I might be someday. And I might not. But I can tell you this: I have a wonderful mother.
After my crying subsided and Mom made me feel better (as mommas are wont to do) she said, "That settles it. Tomorrow I'm picking you up in the morning and we're spending the whole day together." Of course, because her awesomeness is overwhelming at times I busted into tears again. She had already planned on taking me to lunch on my birthday, but now the prospect of a whole day out of the house with my mom? SUH-WEET. She needed to visit her flea market booth and do some rearranging and invited Conner and I to tag along. It sounded spectacular.
Thursday was a rainy day, but then again most of my birthdays have been. Well, except for the ones where we were snowed in. Thanks to global warming now I just have sloshy birthdays. She walked in the front door with a bottle of laundry detergent and a 12-roll pack of toilet paper and really, had those been my only presents I'd have been stoked beyond belief, but no, she had MORE. A bottle of perfume and two bottles of lotion ALONG WITH Young Doctor Frankenstein, a movie I still laugh at until I wheeze and it never ceases to be funny. The rain could in no way damper what had started off as a spectacular morning.
We loaded her flea market
I love me some Dollar Tree. We let Conner play with the balloons they fill with helium and let the strings dangle into your face right there on Aisle One. The lady working there wasn't happy, but hey, they're the ones that let those things dangle like that. We both busted into spontaneous song on Aisle Three with a loud, scary version on Neil Diamond's "Heart Light" and I still don't remember why, but needless to say it was HILARIOUS. We scored three GIGANTO ink pens for the kids to take to Disney World this December (the characters need the big pens to sign autographs because well....they're big) and Mom bought me FIVE packages of fruit-flavored Mentos. I love me some Mentos, too. Nom nom.
After wasting 45 minutes in Dollar Tree, the Taj Mahal of Cheapness, we traveled to Stonehill Grill for lunch and then it was off to the flea market. Conner took about a 15 minute nap on the way and I had hoped he'd continue snoozing for awhile, but one yip from the little dog roaming the aisles and he awoke with a "oof", ready to play. We helped Mom with her booths - and by helped I mean we basically stood in the way and provided comic relief. I mean, how cute and hilarious is it to see a 19 month old adorable little boy using a 14" embroidery hoop as a steering wheel to drive up and down the aisles? Little old ladies and men were coming back there just to see him.
We came back to the house about an hour before the bus was supposed to get here and dove into the scrumptious cake Mom made me - a Better Than Almost Anything cake. Oh good golly, cake that wonderful should probably illegal everywhere except Las Vegas. After cake Mom was introduced to the wonderfulness that is a Snuggie. She loved it so much she promptly fell asleep in my big chair while Conner watched Dora and I put some pictures on a memory stick for her new digital picture frame. The kids got home from school and got some Grammy loves before she had to rush off to Bunko, then I threw some PB&J at the kids before ball practice ..... and that was my 37th birthday.
I saw Sis last night at the boys' second basketball game (the first one coincided with Kady's second game of the day so Paul and I divided and conquered) and at the game she presented me with Season 1 of Glee on DVD and an AFLAC duck that quacks AFLAAAAAAAC and makes me laugh like a giddy four year old. The DVD itself was enough to put her in Best Sister Category for like, ever, but the duck threw her over and then some.
Now to round out what was about a 98% AWESOME week Kady has acquired a phenomenal stomach virus which landed she and I on the couch last night, her yarking every 45 minutes and me holding her hair back, breathing through my mouth and trying not to join in. (I hereby apologize to all the members of the 2nd and 3rd grade A team for any spontaneous yarking your own daughters may now do.) This week's plans include preparing for Icepocalypse which is supposed to hit on Thursday. BE YE WARNED. I'm going to Walmart on Tuesday to stock up on toilet paper and sugar and tortilla chips and soup, so if you wanna meet up give me a holla. If you plan on being hysterical and jerking the Quilted Northern from my hands you can stay at home or risk
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
I'm Just Poppin' Up Everywhere
I heard the other day that Facebook and Twitter are killing blogging. Kind of like video killed the radio star. And how I haven't shaved my legs in weeks kills any kind of bedroom mood that may or may not try to occur during the winter months. And how that adorable 18 month old who has been feeding you Goldfish crackers kills your appetite when he attempts to feed you one covered in his slobber. Like how....oh, you get it?
Anyway, I am on Facebook and Twitter constantly and my little micro blurbs and quips do take away my regular blog posting and that makes me sad. I do love my blog and I love that some of you still keep showing up and I swear, I don't mean to be mean to the blog that has been so good to me over the past five and a half years. Swear. But see, I got this iPod for Christmas and I uhm....can't stop using it and stuff. And I have been known to wake up at 3 a.m. and check Facebook to see who has insomnia. BECAUSE I CAN.
That all being said, I am now somewhere else on the Web as well - I have a column at a local news site, WelchOK.com. I have been given this wonderfully amazing opportunity by fellow blogger and good friend, Tyson Wynn. My column is called "The Diva Dish" and well, when I asked Tyson what kind of writing style, what subject matter he wanted, he said, "Whatever you're good at, capitalize on that." So pretty much the column will be about battling gray hairs, living with a moody teenager, juggling the schedules of three kids, spending the majority of every day playing with Conner and how to keep a fabulously messy house. I am good at all those things. Especially the messy house one.
The WelchOK site is a great new site and while yes, it is catered to the citizens of Welch, those of you who are local can benefit as well. Check it out, bookmark it and make sure to check back weekly to see what I'm dishing out. Leave comments on the pieces you read (not just mine) and let Tyson know you've been there. He'll appreciate it. Promise. Because that's how he rolls.
And now, because I am going to forego Twitter and Facebook for once I leave you with a thought that I was originally going to post to both:
My feet are cold.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Anticipation
Several years ago I bought a calendar that was supposed to make me a bazillion times more organized because it came with stickers. There were stickers for dentist appointments, eye appointments, date nights (ha!), sleepovers, tax appointments, road trips and zombie apocalypses.
I always forgot to use them.
Since that first insane thought of organizational nirvana I've bought the same calendar twice, plus a Sandra Boynton calendar with stickers AND a FlyLady calendar with stickers -- so now I have enough stickers to wallpaper the bathroom and no more organization than when I started.
This year, 2010, the year of golden dreams and financial freedom and a Disney trip and peace and harmony and PLEASE DEAR LORD LET IT BE NOTHING LIKE 2009, I decided that instead of buying a fancy calendar with stickers and pretty colors and cutesy animals cavorting amongst the dates I'd just buy a boring, gigantic desk calendar to mount to the wall and use all those stickers from years past.
(Right now there are adorable dancing pigs in top hats dancing across New Year's Day. Am I more organized? Nope. But dancing pigs make me laugh, so it's all good.)
I had the calendar out, inserting basketball schedules into every Saturday from now until Kingdom come and I had the stickers out in an effort to plan for the next few months in a colorful, entertaining way. Kady was reading over this month's birthdays and when she plays ball and when Sam plays ball and I was pretty much tuning her out because OH THE WORDS. THE WORDS! THE CHILD NEVER STOPS TALKING. And yeah, I tune her out sometimes. Just send my Mother of the Year award to Disney World because have I mentioned I AM GOING THERE THIS YEAR?
Kady finished reading the dates and events for January and moved on to reading every. single. sticker. on every sheet of unused stickers accumulated over the last five years. Again, I was tuning her out, inserting a "Oh?" or a "Hmm" where I thought appropriate, but then I realized she seemed to be stuck on a word. I listened. (Shocking, I know)
"P - p - msssss. Ppppppuuummmmmmssssss. Pums. Pums! Pummm-pummm-pmmmmmsssss."
For the life of me, "pums" wasn't ringing a bell for anything familiar to me.
I finally asked, "Kay, what are you trying to say? Spell it for me."
"Okay. P-M-S. What's that spell, Momma? What's a pums?"
After a little chuckle and a clarification that it was initials that stood for something, I explained that it was something that girls who get their period get sometimes, that we get cranky and we feel fat and we get zits and we want chocolate and lots of sleep and Daddy gets very annoying during this time. She listened, her little chin resting in her hand, taking in all the information I was doling out. This whole puberty thing is mesmerizing to her.
When I was done she nodded, sighed and said, "Great. Zits and feeling fat. ON TOP OF a period!?!? Just something ELSE to look forward to!"
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
Match Your Aytion
The 18th was the kids' last day of school for the year and the powers that be at the school decided that it was the perfect day for The Maturation Talk for the 5th graders. It was on the school calendar, so I immediately started teasing Sam about it.
When Abby was in 5th grade and I knew The Maturation Talk was coming up I chose a day she and I were headed to Tulsa (captive audience, you know) and gave her MY version. We discussed periods, boobs and hair - the trifecta of puberty for a girl. I threw in a dash of PMS and a smattering of reproduction, but she didn't ask and I didn't go further. You really need to go read the post I wrote shortly after we had our talk. It's touching. Really.
Abby is a very laid-back kid and always has been. She took our Period Talk in stride and when they did The Maturation Talk at school it was no big thing. When I asked her about it that night she shrugged and said, "Meh. They didn't tell us anything I didn't already know. Big deal." Last year she did WiseUp which is Sex Ed through the county Health Department and gives the kids twelve weeks of information about abstinence, monogamy, contraception, STIs, relationships, abuse, etc. Before that, too, I gave her my take on sex and relationships, contraception, etc. and again, she was completely cool with it. (It also did my heart good to know she knew NOTHING prior to our talk. Thank God for innocence and small schools.) Basically, she's open and honest and mature about all of it.
But Sam, ohhhhh my Sam....he's a little more uptight. Okay, he's a lot more uptight.
I, of course, razzed him almost daily up until the 18th and finally he'd had enough and asked, "Okay, so what's so important that they're going to tell us?"
*blink blink*
It occurred to me at that precise moment that I had no clue on earth what they were going to tell the boys. So I went to my husband and said, "Your son is on the edge of puberty and they are going to give them The Maturation Talk at school next week and you should probably tell him what to expect." Paul looked terrified. I leaned in and quietly said, "Not that talk, just the talk about hair and BO and you know." With the words "you know" I nodded toward his crotch.
Now, the grin that came across his face should've been warning for me to just say, "You know what, nevermind. The school can take care of it," but I wasn't quick enough. Instead my husband turned to my son and said, "Hey, Sam. Your wiener's going to start getting bigger." Then he looked back at me and said, "Okay. I did it. Happy?"
Oh, delirious, my love.
A few days later I took the opportunity to expound a little more on what the subject matter of The Maturation Talk would be. I also said, "Not being a wiener-owner myself, I'm only speculating, of course, but I can tell you about what the girls will learn." The pale complexion on my 11 year old son's face did not deter me as I delved into Periods and Pads and PMS because it just so happened that my nearly 8 year old daughter decided to sit in on the conversation and I figured I might as well hit the proverbial two birds with one stone. She was mesmerized, but completely un-traumatized. Sam, however, was shocked and appalled. I ended the speech with, "And son, if you ever hear a girl mention her period, PMS or if you notice more zits on her face than usual and possibly uncontrollable tears for no apparent reason, go to her, place chocolate in front of her and walk away. DO NOT make eye contact and do not engage her in conversation. Just give her chocolate and walk away. Trust me on this, dude." Abby walked through the dining room about that time and said, "Amen, sister."
The Day of The Maturation Talk came and I sent him off to school with a "Have fun learning about your wiener! See you at the Christmas party this afternoon!" having no idea that my son would be forever traumatized by the day's events.
Apparently, the girls and boys emerged from their separate classrooms after The Talk with looks of horror on their faces and stumbled weakly to the cafeteria where not one of them ate a bite of their lunches. Imagine roughly 40 10 and 11 year olds staring blankly ahead with trays of food in front of them. I hear it was quite a sight. And of course, leave it to my son to be the most vocal about his vehemence to NEVER mature into puberty - so much so that his teacher actually caught me out in the hall during the Christmas party to tell me that he was very upset with the new information. She said Abby's class was the most mature they'd ever had, my niece's class was the most innocent and unknowing and Sam's the most traumatized. I can only imagine what Kady's class will be like. That class may end up teaching the teachers a thing or two.
I tried all evening to get Sam to tell me what they talked about because, well, I'm curious. I mean, I only went through puberty as a girl. I'd like to know the rest of the story, Paul Harvey. He adamantly refused to speak of the horror for days and it took lots of space, some good-natured ribbing and his Grammy fixing him up a goody bag of deodorant, body wash and cologne to finally break him down enough to tell me OH MY GOSH MOM MY *dramatic pointing to his crotch* IS GOING TO GET BIG AND I DON'T WANT IT TO BE BIG AND PLEASE MAKE IT STOP AND I NEVER WANT TO GROW UP AND THIS IS AWFUL DO I REALLY HAVE TO? SERIOUSLY DO I HAVE TO? PLEASE SAY NO OH MY GOSH THIS IS BAD REALLY BAD.
Once again it is made starkly clear that my three children couldn't be any more different - I have one who analyzes and dissects the scientific inner workings of the human body with quiet curiosity and maturity, one who is so repressed he'll probably end up in therapy or become a monk and then of course, there's the one who wears stripper dust.
So, so many reasons to be proud.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
'Pert Near Five Years
It's been nearly five years since my last post, and even that was a repost from my newspaper column. I think you can attribute it to wri...
