First Annual Wedgie Walk

Annie suckered Grant into a back rub. She is hopeless when it comes to back rubs. She will even correct you if you don't do it like she wants it!

Wall down to midpoint. I can get the van in (once I rearrange the crap) and won't have to puddle jump to get the kids rolled out of the house!

Where's the other part of the header? Um, well... Let's just say that it fell (nails still intact) and missed my noggin by centimeters! That was the worst part of the deal. (We won't count the little electrical issue that a quick YouTube lesson solved).

Took the girls to McDonald's to play while it was raining. My poor unsocialized kids were overwhelmed with the other  kids jumping around and simply sat and watched!

Grant helped another scout finish up his Eagle scout project. Hopefully they will return the favor soon for Grant's project.

Hard to believe that two years ago last weekend, this nut suffered a pretty serious stroke. He has a clean bill of health now and still doesn't know that the S on his chest stands for SENIOR and not SuperMan! Maybe we'll let it stand for both since he refuses to slow down! 

This is Charlotte my Writing Spider. She still creeps me out but I'm too scared of her to try to kill her. What if she jumps at my face? Ugh!!!!

Took the girls to the ice rink and realized that even with help, there's no way I could have both girls on the ice. So, Dasha the Brave took on the adventure with a new friend. She made it all the way around the rink with a coach cheering her on from the edge (on nice dry land).

Our own bouncy in the backyard for the weekend made for a great ending to fall break. (Grant was camping so the girls took it over as their own palace)!

Happy Birthday, me. See what happens when you let the 3 year old spell?

Dance Party Day at preschool. Annie was clad in her new outfit and ready! It was also her special day and she was going to be the line leader and had snack for her friends. However, as we pulled out of the drive way seconds after taking the photo, I heard, "Mama!!!! I peed!!!!" Are you kidding? So, I stripped her of her new dance party outfit, grabbed regular school clothes and dropped her at the sitter (all by 6:45) trying to figure out if it was worth crying over. However, her sitter washed her dance outfit and had her redressed in time for school. Gotta love the Mighty Fatima!

Annie discovered Grant's old airplane peddle car. My dad spent SO much time building this thing and even had a professional body shop paint it for Grant's 2nd Christmas. Poor Grant never fit in it! I'm so happy that Annie was estactic about it! I think it made Dad really happy, too!

The dance diva decided that jumping on her bed and flipping over the rail was fun. I'm not convinced. She said she was going to, "Boogie." Yeah, right. We're going to boogie right down to the ER if she doesn't stop!

Grant at his Court of Honor accepting a troop position as Scribe. I wonder if they know his handwriting looks like chicken scratch. He spells like Webster but he writes like Turkey Lurkey!

Grant receiving his next rank. Next rank? Eagle! Can I just mention that as this was going on, I had Annie pinned into a pew. Mom was feeding her Fruit Loops since she slept through dinner. (Thanks, mom)! Annie was crunching the Fruit Loops as loud as possible! Then, I smelled an awful smell and asked her if she needed to go potty. (Legitimate question when you smell that sort of scent). She responded very loudly, "No! I don't need to potty! I just pooted!" Come on, now! If I could have escaped, I would have.



And, for the jokesters that keep emailing me asking if I'm a real person, yeah. I'm just on the other side of the camera 99% of the time and prefer it that way.

 So, that's the last few days in a nutshell. Here are the things I've decided that I've learned over the last year that will make my 37th year much easier.

1) Don't trust what anyone writes or says. Wait to see it in their actions.
2) Life is way too short to sweat the things that won't matter in 24 hours (like dirty clothes, dust bunnies, and crazy hair).
3) No one else really cares about your integrity. It's yours to establish and defend.
4) You can't just sit on your butt and hope that your kids turn out ok. You have to work at it every day (even if it's with a baseball bat and duct tape).
5) I truely hate my journey right now but I'm here for some reason so I need to get my panties out of my butt and get to walking! Maybe I'll call next year The Wedgie Walk! If millions can walk for breast cancer, surely I can support myself in my own Wedgie Walk.

Yeah, there are some other things I've learned that are a lot more introspective (oohhhh - big word). However, I'm going to hang on to those for now. I've had enough stones tossed at my glass walls today. I sort of feel like there's a little ding (like when a rock nicks your windshield) in one of the walls and if anything happens too drastic, the whole darn thing might just shatter. Sometimes, trying to figure out if what you want is really what you need and if what you need could ever align with what you want and how to even get what you need, much less what you want can be a bit overwhelming. See what I mean? (I sort of waiting for Larry, Moe, or Curly to jump out and smack me after that one).

Anyway, it's time to end my blogging therapy and pull the girls from their tubs since they are now sufficiently pruned (no soap added yet but if you soak long enough, surely the dirt will dissolve).

Good night, all.

Sleepovers and Demolition

Home made waffles and home made apple butter. New realization - I do like to cook. I just don't like to clean or be critized for how I cooked.

Remember the troll from the Three Billy Goats Gruff? This is our toilet troll. She refuses to let anyone use the toilet and sits on the ledge and hisses if you go near her.

Cruel trick #341 - Wrap wet baby in a towel and then sit her on the bed with the loose towel tucked under her butt so she's stuck! I was amused for at least ten minutes while she tried to escape.

Reclaiming my garage. Removed sheet rock and insulation. Tomorrow begins the good stuff with the sledge hammer! At least I can see where the electricity has been run now and won't accidentally tear through that! ZZZAAAAPPPP!

Dasha is having her first sleep-over. Annie does NOT understand why she can't crash their party. Whew! Talk about attitude! She took all 2,130,576 of her stuffed animals and a blanket into Dasha's room and got all set up to crash their party. Poor baby.

I'm exhausted. Sleepless nights have taken their toll and manual labor just sucks the remaining life right out of you. Today was relatively drama free besides Dasha's orthodontist consultation which only brought to light the fact that I have to choose to pay the mortgage or put a down payment on beginning an engineering feat in her mouth. Hmmm.... It will work out. It always does.

Good night, all.

Boat Left Without You but Martha Stewart Will Be Here Shortly

Waiting for the big kids while they were at choir practice. Belly dancing in front of the church... Does anyone know this child?

Bad idea #259. Yes, I got her into the swing because SHE wanted in THAT swing. However, I thought I was going to have to flip the swing upside down and pop her out of it like a piece of stuck toast in a toaster. She was not amused with my skills. My back is still not amused with the moves I had to execute to get this chunky monkey out of the elfin-sized swing.

No caption for this needed. No, it did not end well for either participant.

Thing 1 and Thing 3 decided to play hide-and-seek. Annie kept hiding in the same spot. It suprised me that she went into the pantry and closed the door without screaming about it being dark inside.

Annie was counting for Grant to hide. I wish I'd recorded it. She can only count to 15. She just kept counting to 15 over and over again! (Grant was in the hot stinky garage. I would have NEVER encouraged Annie to count to 15 about 100 times. Ok. Maybe I did... )!

Stripe is officially cocooned. Annie is now asking when he's going to wake up. Um... I don't know. I guess I should Google it. They didn't cover exact dates in The Very Hungry Caterpillar.

So, here's how the day went...

I tried to get the big kids up and ready for church this morning. I always threaten them with, "The boat is going to leave without you!" Well, this morning, the boat undocked and did pull away without two crew members. I'm sick and tired of waiting on them to do things that they've been told to do a million times. As I left, I told them that the floor had better shine like the top of the Chrysler Building when I returned. Oh, wait. That was Ms. Hanagan from Annie that said that. I guess I sort of felt like a cross between Ms. Hanagan, Cruela de Ville, and and officer from COPS this morning. But, I did tell both kids that their rooms had better be spotless and their bathrooms had better look brand new when I returned three hours later. Then, the boat left. Annie was very confused but I just told her that the big kids hadn't followed directions. Maybe that'll give her something to think about the next time I ask her to do something!

I went on to church. I dropped Annie at her class and headed back to the singles class where I planned to sneak in the back and not have to speak or be spoken to. Crap, crap, crap. When I got there, there were only two other people there. I looked around and literally spun around to leave before one of the other ladies spoke to me. Dang it. No escape. So, I sat there feeling like a trapped animal. I waited for Jello girl and the alien watcher to show up. However, no one came. The teacher was out of town, too, so one of the students was leading class. He started up the "discussion" and kept asking for people to read verses for him. I was the only one with my Bible so he was basically saying, "Hey, you with the Bible, read these verses!" Really? Fine if you don't carry your Bible with your but... there's an app for that! Pull it up on your ever-loving phone! I've got to admit that I was a snot wad. Yes, I read and yes I spoke but I was not happy about it. After about 40 minutes, the Jello girl came giggling into class. Today, it was more like green moldy Jello and not bright blood red Jello. She marched to the front of the room. Plopped down directly in front of the instructor and then proceeded to turn around and hug, talk with, and laugh with the girl behind her. Really? I felt bad for the instructor. He was having a tough enough time without having to talk over Bubblelicious. How rude! But, he trudged on with the lesson. She continued to argue points with him and one-up him. Southern grace and poise, she does not have. Why in this world does she bother me so much? She doesn't even know who I am or that I exsit.

So, I sat through class and then headed for choir. No drama there other than trying to stay awake. And, today was the Lord's Supper. They tried a new combination cup that contained the grape juice in one section and the bread in another. As the bread was eaten, some guys behind me in the choir started wondering if they'd eaten the wrapper instead of the bread because of the taste. Then, they decided in agreement that they'd just eaten a styrafoam packing peanut. Geez. Boys never grow up. (I didn't disagree with them - just their timing). Oh, and I had blood sugar issues last night so I had very little sleep. I kept myself awake for the remainder of the service by trying to count the average number of people on each pew and then calculate how many people were downstairs and in the balcony. I know. Horrible. I will go back and listen to the message when it's uploaded. I just simply couldn't keep my eyes open this morning.

I picked Annie up and headed home to see how much work the convicts had gotten done. Then, I saw it. My blood started to boil. Guess whose car was parked in the driveway? When I opened the door, her cleaning box was sitting in the foryer. Are you kidding me? She skipped church to do the kids' cleaning that was supposed to be a punishment for dragging their butts and being disrespectful? Game over. About that time, her sidekick came walking out of the garage with a piece of chalk in his hand. He'd been drawing off exactly where my demo project needed to happen. AHHHHHH!!!!! She then proceeded to fix the kids hot dogs, french fries, and tea. (I asked her to stop bringing Coke for the kids so she brought sweet tea instead). She obvioulsy sensed my outrage and started telling me that they'd just gotten there. Really? You brought your own vaccuum clearner over. I think you've been here for more than just a few minutes. The whole house already smelled like Lysol. Seriously. I mean no disrepect. However, I issued a punishment and the kids ended up getting pampered by Martha Stewart. It really felt like an episode from Everyone Loves Raymond.

So, they left and I put the girls down for a nap and tried to crash myself. However, my bloodsugar started crashing agin instead. This is really getting old. If you've never had your blood sugar bottom out suddenly, you probably wouldn't know the nauseous nasty feeling that signals things aren't going in the right direction. So, I grabbed a spoon of peanut butter and laid down hoping that things would level off.

Then, I took the kids back to church for choir. (Oh, did I mention that Grant got sassy and decided that he didn't want to go). Anyway, I took Annie to the park while they were at practice. However, while at the park, my blood sugar dropped again so we just went home afterwards. Oh well.

Kids bathed, bedded, and now it's finally quiet. I'm still monitoring my blood sugar looking for some sort of pattern to this craziness. I've been grazing on a mix of Cheerios, raisens, peanuts, and M&Ms for the last four hours but I'm still not getting the boost in numbers that I need. I don't want to have to open that dumb emergency injection of glycogol or whatever it is. Do you know what one pop of that stuff costs? Oh well. I'm exhausted and ready to fall asleep but I don't dare do so until I know my numbers have leveled off.

Take away from today? There are seasons to our lives. In some seasons, things wither and die. However, spring will come again and things will grow. I sure hope I'm in the dead of winter because everything around me seems dead. When will spring get here? I'm rather impatient.

Good night, all.

Potentially Terminal It's Not Fair-itis



Annie cooking up some doughnuts for the letter D. (She's wearing the yellow shirts with her back to the camera - of course).



Annie ready to eat doughnuts for the letter D. (Still wearing the yellow shirt and still not facing the camera).

 

Annie playing the letter game that she connected to the TV herself. I'd had this stashed away until she got "older." When she started matching the letters and sounding out "had" and "bad," I gave up and decided that she is now "older."

 

Mom and Dad got a new storage shed. They rolled the old one out of the way using brute strength. Really? When is Dad going to act his age and stop pretending to be the Incredible Hulk?

Sunset set tonight. (While I was watching this, someone was trying to steal the van). No kidding.



Stripe decided to begin his cocoon today. Annie explains this by saying that he's sleeping and going to make a sleeping bag out of string from his bottom. Life according to a three year old...

 Today, I have a major case of "It's Not Fair-itis." I'm not sure where I caught this bug but I sure hope it's just a 24 hour bug. After a late night battle with Grant last night about a Scout event this morning, I had a restless night. I keep wondering what I could do differently? I've tried the tough love approach. I've tried giving him lots of grace. I've tried consequences. I've tried logic. I feel like I'm only left with trying the baseball bat theory. After he went and completed the Scout project this morning against his will, he went on to my parent's house. My understanding was that he was going to put in some good old-fashioned hard word and help dad with the new shed. Nope. It sounds like he got to sit in the recliner all day and operate the remote. Not what I had understood would go on. Ugh. When I tried to round him up to bring him home, he mumbled something along the lines of, "I'd rather LIVE in that shed than go home with you." What would Cliff and Claire Huxtable do? My brain was sloshing with schemes. I could banish him to live in that shed for a few days with the mowers, Christmas decorations, and cans of paint but my parents would save him and bring him back inside and coddle him some more. Do I sound ungrateful? No. I absolutely know that there's no stinking way I could have kept things afloat in any manner without my parents. However, this is getting to a critical fail sort of point. All three kids know that if Grandma or Papa are around, they don't need to follow my directions. "Mama, can I have chocolate?" I say, "No. You didn't eat your dinner." I turn around and she has chocolate and Papa has a sheepish grin on his face. I say, "You wasted the last two hours and didn't ask for help with your homework so you're out of luck." Grandma says, "Aw. She's just tired and needed a break. I'll help her." Dang it all! No! I'm the mom even if I do have to still rely on them for help in certain areas, I AM THE MOM!!!!! I've picked this battle before and it never goes well. I don't have the energy to battle right now. It's not fair! I hate feeling like I'm obligated to "give" them some of my power simply because they help out.

What else is not fair? I've saved for the last six months to get the kids' Christmas gifts. I literally just ordered the last child's "What I Want" gift today. (Everyone gets something they want, something to read, something to wear, and something they need). I took care of the "something they want" to try and blur the fact that everything else will be crappy. Then, Grant says, "Hmmm.... Do I want an iPhone 5 or and iPad for Christmas? Or both? I have to tell Daddy. He just texted me" What the H E double hockey sticks? I'm breaking my neck trying to budget to give them crap for Christmas while still figuring out how to pay for braces, car repairs, field trips, and the other damnation that goes on around here but he gets to sweep in and be the hero? There weren't enough vulgarities known to man to cover my feelings at that point. Once again, it's not fair.

We were at Mom's having dinner when that text-a-thon went down. I had to escape. I faked a need to run to WalMart. I did NOT head to WalMart. I went to my thinking place. My thinking place is a nice wooden swing on the edge of a river. (I try to ignore the fact that I was purposed to at that park and had a first kiss at that park on that swing). I sat on the swing and just watched the sun setting and cried. Did it help? Nope. It probably made it worse because It's Not Fair-itis feeds on negativity and the thoughts I was screaming at God were definitely NOT positive. My conversation with God went something like, "What have I done wrong? I've been lied to repeatedly, left alone, tried my hardest to do the right thing to my own demise, continued giving when I'm empty, keep my integrity intact, and done my best not to whine." Now, when I come to my senses, I will pull myself up by the boot straps and move on, but tonight, I need to be admitted to ICU for this case of It's Not Fair-itis because it's a pretty deadly strain.

Believe it or not, it got even better. As I sat watching the river and a family fishing off the bridge, I was oblivious to the fact that some punk had chosen my van to vandalize or steal. When I finally decided that I had rolled around in my own crap long enough, I started back up toward the parking lot (full of cars) only to see a young kid standing on the driver side of the van with my door open. Do I yell and hope he doesn't have a gun? Do I call for help and watch him rifle through the van? I took my chances and yelled, "Hey," at him from quite a distance. He ran off up the trail. Call the cops and report it? Why? I'm the idiot that didn't lock my door. There wasn't anything really worth taking unless he was after a nice toddler seat, my Bible, or a baggie of trail mix. Oh, and my pretty nice GPS was in the glove box but I guess he hadn't got that far yet. So, I simply got in the van and drove off. Unbelievably, I'm not too shaken about the whole thing. Maybe it's just because I've already lost my mind. I don't know. However, I can guarantee you that the van is locked up tight now as are the house doors. Blinds are shut tight and even the curtains in the kitchen are pulled closed. Why? It's just not fair!

So, I'm going to get every one's clothes laid out for tomorrow morning and assume that Grant has It's Not Fair-itis, too, because he doesn't think going to 8:00 Sunday school is fair because he and Dasha are in the same class. Buck up, little dude. For tomorrow, you'll have to suck it up and deal with it. I'm going to Sunday school at 8:00 to face the paranoid alien watcher and Jello girl while staying glued against the wall in hopes that no one will talk to me. (The other members of that class are probably making up stories about me being some snob that refuses to engage or speak).

Maybe this bug will have passed by then, too. If not, I'm going to need some pretty intense antibiotics because this is the sort of disease that will strip you of your joy and happiness like a piranha stripping the flesh from your body. I don't want to end up that way.

Night, all.

Whack-a-mole

In the last two years, I have NEVER gone to pick Annie up from the sitter to find her asleep! She was asleep at one end of the couch and her commrade in crime was asleep at the other end. It was a rare Kodak moment that will never ever be captured again.



This is Annie's new pet. She named him Stripe. Um, do you remember the Gremlin leader? His name, too, was Stripe and he also came out of a pod. This sucker is never getting food after midnight and if anyone gets him wet, I'm throwing him outside for the birds to snack on before he morphs into a Gremlin. There are already 3 Gremlins in this house!



I got quite a chuckle from Annie teaching Stripe how to play Angry Birds. She talked to him all afternoon as he crawled up and down his stick. I've read The Very Hungry Caterpillar to her a hundred times trying to make sure she understands that this little critter is going to disappear into a cocoon in a few days. I don't think her reaction to that event is going to be favorable.

 

I'm still not sure what happened here. I closed my eyes for a few minutes and awoke to a full moon.

 

This was our Friday night luxury. The kids are so amused with the Magic Shell stuff. I know it's a complete chemical experiment but... it's Friday night. Let's live a little and be risky!



Um... Oops? The cat got trapped in the laundry room for an undisclosed amount of time. While I found it humorous and wasn't in too much of a hurry to release her from her enclosure, she was ticked off! Anyone want to take a guess at what this cat is thinking? I do believe she would need some Lava soap to wash those sorts of words out of her mouth!



So, there's the day in pictures. The story behind the pictures? I feel like I'm the mole in a championship Whack-a-mole game. Everytime I think I'm going to be able to come up for air, someone bashes me over the head I have to retreat back into "the hole." I think I've finally gotten caught up with school work and BAM! Mallet to the head. I think I've finally got my heart off my sleeve and locked up nice and tight and BAM! Mallet to the head. I think I've finally gotten a handle on raising three kids on my own and BAM! Mallet to the head! TKO!

I'm not even sure how to weave my emotions and thoughts about the two big kids into any symbalance of sense here. I think I'm going to invest in those, "Hello, my name is..." labels to stamp on them each day just so I'll be darn sure that I'll recognize them. Grant, my gentle giant, is acting like that guy, Edgar, from Men in Black that has the alien life form inside of him. I'm just not sure what to do with him. He's mastered the art of "playing" between me, Eric, and my dad. We all get different versions of the same story and it just so happens that he manipulates things to get the most bang for his buck from each of us. It's one of those "typical" divorce situations that I never thought I'd have to deal with. Ha. Actually, I don't guess I'm dealing with the "typical" verson. I'm dealing with a masterful version of the game with an overachiever.

And, Dasha? I just don't even know what to do with her. Hygenie is one of those things that you can only preach in so many different ways. The things I'm having to address with her are skills that even Annie has mastered. Does she not care? Is she suddenly not capable? Does she get it? I simply don't know.

And, Annie? Ha. I'm convinced that I need to go ahead and start securing a good therapist for myself to overcome Annie's antics. I told my mom last night, "Grant didn't think I was a complete idiot until he turned 10. Annie seems to already think that at 3!" I simply don't know how to handle this child's spirit! She loves to argue, debate, and be the center of attention. I don't want to squash that because I know that's her personality. (Anyone have a guess as to where she got those traits)? However, I need to draw some clear boundaries about respect and obedience. I'm seriously beginning to think that a shock collar might be my best bet. (Eric and Grant tried one out on themselves when we had the dogs. If they survived the zing, Annie will be just fine)!

Anyway, as I said, I'm worn out. This mole is sick and tired of being whacked across the noggin. Staying in the hole to avoid another concussion isn't an option and "numb mode" is getting old. And, heck, I've learned the hard way that the journey into consciousness out of numb mode is pretty rough. It's easier to just keep getting my brains knocked out.

What I do know, though, is that I'm snuggled up in my own bed with Netflix playing in the background and all of the kids tucked in for the night. I'm going to leave the laundry in the dryer (I run every load about 3 times before I ever pull it out to fold it), leave the toothpaste drool in the sink, and the wet towels will still be on the floor when I wake up. Tomorrow, I will begin condensing the office contents so I can demolish the wall that seperates the office from the garage. Destruction is a good form of therapy. My goal is to be able to park the van in the garage by the end of the week. We shall see how this goes but the thought of tearing out studs (Don't worry. None are lode bearing) and ripping down sheet rock sounds relaxing. If anyone needs to know, my insurance card is in the back pocket of my wallet! :) But, tonight, I'll fall asleep thankful for three healthy kids who have the breath in them to be major pains in the butt, a roof over my head, food in the fridge, and the knowledge that no matter which mallet I get knocked in the head with, He is capable of seeing me through it all and keeping me in between the navigational beacons.

Night, all.

Triple Play and Immodium Popping



Good morning, Woodstock!

 

View from my escape hatch - oh, I mean window!

Birthday gift for a girl friend of Grant's who is NOT a girlfriend. Um, isn't that called, "It's complicated?"

This is what Annie can do in less than 5 minutes with a spool of ribbon, scissors, and a step stool. I think she looked at the knot tying instructions in one of Grant's Scout books to do the loops around the handles.

Positive things from today -1) I just figured out that my three all time favorite TV shows are now all airing again - Cosby Show, 7th Heaven, and Full House. I couldn't tell you anything about prime time TV but I'm quite content with these three shows and a small helping of Dirty Jobs or Tool Time every now and then. 2) Trusting my "gut" feeling is still the right thing to do. I have evidence eventhough I hate my gut sometimes! 3) Working with a group of insane ladies simply reinforces my idea of normalacy and the knowledge that there are teachers out there who refuse to compromise on education.

Negatives things from today - 1) That incident of Annie's from last night that happened in the bathroom was not an isolated accident. It seems that it was a bug. It struck her once and me about a million times. It's kind of scary to reach the maximum dosage of Immodium and still not achieve results. (Anyone remember the scene from Dumb and Dumber)? Ok. Moving on... 2) Thinking that Thing 2 could wait until tonight to finish a book report that's due tomorrow. 3) Realizing that Annie is becoming aware of the fact that our family situation isn't "normal" compared to her classmates and asking why other kids get to see their dads every day and trying to reason with her in order to answer the "why" questions. Can't be done.

There it is in a nutshell. I'm tired and ready for bed but I'm waiting on Thing 2 to finish her book report that I refused to do for her. (I don't know where she got that crazy idea - duh - gold star for mom)!

Good night, all.

I didn't mean to poop!

Proof that I can NOT be an adult. After 3:00, I'm easily amused.

Sitting through Grant's music lesson with BOTH girls. Annie decided to pull the arms off of the little rubbery monsters that were on my keys. Yeah, they were old and falling off but she helped them right along.

The girl can disassemble anything is less than 5 seconds.

Then, she covered her head up and went to sleep in my lap. Did I mention that my butt was completely numb after sitting with her on my lap for 40 minutes?

Not much to report today. Team B took on Team Unicorn for a feisty little round this morning but it all ended well without anyone losing their job (yet) or getting clotheslined. Can I just say that there's going to be a run on lots of fast food restaurant positions around April when teacher contracts come out? McDonalds and Taco Bell are going to be able to choose from quite a pool of applicants - none with restaurant experience but all will have crisis management skills and degrees from some of the best universities in the States. I'm working on saying, "Welcome to Moe's," in several different languages - just in case.

After a 16 hour day, I'm simply D O N E. (Yes, please say that with a drippy southern drawl and you'll see exactly how done I am). After leaving the house at 6:15 this morning to drop everyone at their assigned starting positions for the day, I had a 7:00 a.m. conference, 8:40 a.m. meeting, music lesson for Grant at 4:30, choir practice at 6:30, and 26 children stalking me in between all of that. Not to mention coming home to find that Dasha's homework (which had conveniently not been written in her agenda) wasn't done and required quite a bit of supervision. The discussion questions over the story she just read all had points that were NOT concrete which causes us great difficulty! The last question asked about how she would have changed the ending of the story. Her response, "I guess I probably wouldn't change it. Life just doesn't always have happy endings." Awwww..... Not good. The good mommy part of me wanted to ask her to expound on that statement. The tired mommy side wanted me to drop it and move on. Good prevailed and I asked her what she meant. Wow. Sideswiped again. Just when I think absolutely nothing is registering in her brain, she astounds me with the depth of what she perceives. She asked me to pray with her for some people because she was sad with "the choices they were making." Dang. I wanted to hand her a bag of rocks and say, "Go for it! Stone them!" But, alas, the innocence and faith of a child sometimes is greater than all of the evil swirling around.

Then, Grant had a project due over Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde. Shoot. Can't we just glue some photos of the girls down and call it a day? Honestly, I'm not certain that the man cub even read the darn book. But, I didn't question. I just handed over the shoe box and construction paper. I did all of that before leaving for choir. Upon returning home about 2 hours later, I found that Grant had used my Tupperware bowls and plastic lanyard (bought for a specific project - not this one) to complete his diorama. Argh. If he doesn't bring those bowls back in one piece...

The funniest part of the whole night, though, was a moment when I was getting Annie ready for bed. She was standing there in the bathroom floor supposedly getting naked so I could shower her. I was busy trying to dig her some pjs out of the hamper that hadn't been under a pair of Grant's boxers or socks. Ewwww. I've learned that anytime you HEAR or SMELL something a child has done before you SEE it, it's not going to be good. I simply heard the pitter patter of something on my linoleum floor. I thought she'd peed on the floor. Oh well. Not the first time and not the last. However, the wail that came after the pitter patter alerted me that something different had gone on. As I rounded the corner, I just saw trails of poo oozing out of her undies and down her legs and pitter pattering onto the floor. Are you kidding me? I've had a very long day and I do not want to pretend to be the PineSol lady at this hour. However, I tried to carefully comfort Annie without getting any of the slime on myself. When she finally calmed down enough for me to understand what she was saying, she said in between sobs, "I thought I was just going to poot!" It was definitely another memory for the record book. She burst into tears again and just kept saying that she didn't understand why she'd had an accident because she only wanted to poot, not to poop! You would have been so proud of me. I didn't bust out laughing. I held it all in and only gave a minor snort once while trying to stifle my antics. I tossed her into the shower (undies and all) and just hosed her down. As for the floor, well, I did what I could. I'm off next week. I'll morph into the PineSol lady to disinfect it then!

Now, it's time for me to crash. Wednesdays drain me. Only two more days until my week long sabbatical or should I call it house arrest?

Good night, all.

This WWF Fighter Wants a Time Out

I heard the third bell. Doesn't that mean that this wrestling match is over? I'm bruised and battered and I think my last opponent bit off a chunk of my ear. Why do I keep getting drug back into the ring for more punishment? The only part of this game that I want to participate in is jumping off the top ring rope with a chair and bashing someone over the head. No, I don't need volunteers. I know who I'm going to take out!

Trip home, she's out cold. This is how she sleeps. It scares me to death!

I momentarily dozed off and woke up to find that Thing 3 had eaten a box of Cheez-Its. No wonder she wasn't interested in dinner.

Anyone else think this looks like a mug shot? It should be. The girl decided to sass me about her interpretation of the an assignment and what the actual instructions said. Show down at the dinner table until I came to my senses and threw her out. (Not literally - this time).

I went to help Grant find a box to complete another diorama in and returned to the holding tank to find Thing 3 eating the one remaining muffin that was to have been tomorrow's breakfast for someone. A child's independence can be highly overrated.

Thing 2 simply sat and ate his dinner whiling watching the show knowing that he was about to become a target, too, due to his grades. I only wish I had an "after" picture to post. Quite different.

I just don't even know how to get out of this wresting sport. I'm too old to play. I'm too fragile and I think I've been taken to the mat a few too many times. Those concussions just don't heal as quickly these days. The sheer feat of trying to coordinate all of the homework around here is a circus act. Despite the written homework tonight (I refused to do Dasha's tonight - it was LONG division with decimals and integers and she doesn't even have her multiplication facts memorized - I think NOT), Grant is supposed to have four scales and an etude memorized for his lesson tomorrow afternoon. I stood at the piano plucking out notes and singing, "Bohm, Bohm, Bohm, Bohm, Bohm, Bohm, Bohm," repeatedly until he found the correct pitches. While doing that, I was coloring a picture with Annie and helping Dasha with science homework. When I'd finally sung through those scales so many times that I was speaking in rhythmic scale-like cadences, I quit and went to bathe Annie. OK. So, she hasn't felt great the last couple of days. Yesterday, I noticed that she kept going to the bathroom. When I questioned her about the state of her tummy, she said she was fine. However, her teacher said that she'd asked to go to the bathroom every 15 minutes today and had not performed once she got there. Hmmmm.... I've had enough UTIs to know that story. After her bath, I knew that I needed to do a quick once-over of the area to make sure she didn't have a rash or something else going on downtown. Um. Here's another note to add to the potty training diaries. Once again, do NOT let a toddler use TP - especially by themselves. The girl was stuffed full of TP. I didn't know quite what to do. I put her back into the bathtub for a more detailed cleaning. Once I put her to bed in her Pull Up, she started screaming and saying that it hurt because she peed. I think we're going to have a long night AND we'll be headed to the doctor tomorrow. Yeah, well, I know that was TMI but this is what you get with a toddler. Her private business seems to end up being my public business.

Currently, the big kids are still working on homework. I'm about to start more school work myself. There simply aren't' enough hours in the day to get it all done. I have two choices during the day, 1) engage and interact with the students and take the paperwork home, or 2) give the kids busy work and get the paperwork done at school. I'm not ok with option 2 because I hate it when that happens with my own kids. It seems that the world is wondering why the US keeps slipping further and further behind in education and the almighty powers that be just keep putting more programs into place to prevent students from falling further and further behind. However, all of those programs basically translate into more paperwork for the teacher and less time to actually teach. If you're child has a teacher that actually teaches, be thankful. The juggling act of filling out paperwork and teaching has become overwhelming. I don't know if I can keep it up. I didn't sign up for this job in order to spend three hours a night filling out data forms and "covering my butt" to prove that I'm teaching. I signed up to make a difference in a child's life. I'm having a really hard time doing that right now. Anyway... I probably just lost my job over that little rant but...

So, while I'm getting my papers ready to work with, Dasha brings me a field trip form and tells me that she needs to return it tomorrow with the money. Sure. Not a problem. Let me go shake the money tree out back. Then, I looked at the form. Crapalicious! Are you kidding me? $50 to go see A Christmas Carol at The Alliance Theater. I can't keep this up. Between Grant's band needs, buying stuff for my own classroom, paying for a babysitter and preschool, and trying to keep the lights on, I feel like I'm one breath away from going under for the last time. I'm all about enriching the curriculum and providing opportunities for the students but this is getting ridiculous. I'm having to offset the budget cuts but my budget was one that got cut by 8 days! Oh wait. I'm back on that band wagon again. Did you see how I did that? Glug, glug, glug... sinking.

Here's the vision that I've finally come up with that might help you see where I'm at. Do you remember that scene from Indiana Jones where he has to step out onto the invisible bridge and just have faith that the map was right and that he wasn't going to tumble into a dark abyss below? That's where I'm at. I feel like the abyss is snapping at my heels to drag me under - not just financially or professionally. Honestly, there are days that I want to simply throw the map to the wind and scream, "Bite me, Dora! You and Boots can have your stupid map. Take it and shove it where the sun don't shine in Backpack!" Then, I come to my senses and realize that there are three kids who simply don't have a clue what the struggles in my life are and they just want to be "normal" kids who go on field trips and band competitions without any drama. I'm sure these lessons will give them a whole lot more character (after lots of therapy sessions where they'll blame me for everything) but for me, I'm weary of the battle. Like I said, I know I've heard that bell signaling the end of the round at least three times and this weary wrestler is ready for a time out.

Ok. I'm not sure where that all came from but I feel a bit better now. So, now I can continue on with my stack of red-tape encased paperwork and figure out when I'll get Annie to the doctor tomorrow. Hmmmm...

Good night, all.