Now, if I was an anonymous blogger and no one knew where I worked, I could make you laugh so hard that you'd pee your pants. Believe me, I'd resorted to laughing instead of crying by 8:45 this morning. And, just let me say that I have witness to back up everything I logged today. You just couldn't make this stuff up. (And, I don't know who gets email posts of these entries so there's absolutely NO telling who reads this craziness and might try to incriminate me)!
6:45 a.m. drop Annie off and realize I forgot to pack her shoes, glad she didn't have school today
7:00 - 8:45 a.m. You just wouldn't believe me if I told you but the leader of team unicorn and cotton candy reigned supreme and status quo was upheld (Yes, it's code. I'll look back on this one day and pee my pants again).
8:45 - 12:00 Semi-productive
12 - 12:30 Grandparent's Day celebrated in the cafeteria with the entire grade level and about four million grandparents. Thankfully, no drama.
12:30 - 1:30 Continue discussion on Mary McLeod Bethune during Social Studies. Question 1 - Were there zombies during that time? Question 2 - When you say World War 2, which world are you talking about? Seriously, I understood question 2 and thankfully, I have another adult in the room with me who jumped in to save me and answer the question before I had to open my mouth and insane laughter erupted. Question 3 - But, what about the zombies? Like I said, I was already in the mode of "laugh, don't cry" before 8:45 a.m. so laughter was just on the tip of my tongue.
1:30 - 3:00 I'm not really sure where this time went. Maybe zombies took it.
3:15 Picked up Annie and strapped her in the van. Dropped a teammate by her house and headed to get into position in car line. I've learned to be really early or really late. If I'm right on time, I have to wait in line so that the sun shines through the window onto the Princess Annie's eyes and makes her scream in frustration. (One day, she covered her head up with her blanket and went to sleep to avoid the light. That only happened once, though. Believe me, I suggested it more than once)! So, big kids climb in the car, Annie starts screaming that her tummy hurts. Honestly, that's normally followed by, "I have to poop NOW," and me snatching her from her seat and running like a crazy person for the nearest grassy area or restroom. Before I'd rounded the corner to leave the school parking lot, I heard it. Yep. That sound is something that is so distinct that you couldn't mistake it. Puke. In the car. On the car seat. On the window? Oh, yeah. I pulled around (heaven forbid that you stop, someone would ram you out of the way with their minivan) and pulled Annie from the van. I tried to be so ginger about not grabbing where she'd dirtied herself with the foulest smelling vomit I've ever been exposed to. No luck. She leaned forward wanting to be comforted and cuddled. Ugh. That was one of those moments that What to Do When You're Expecting or Baby Wise didn't cover - how to comfort a vile smelling child that is going to make you puke. Maybe that chapter was in the birth control section. I'll have to check. Anyway, she cuddled up next to me and mushed the warm goodness all into my white shirt that is impossible to iron and I'd hoped to get another wear out of. Oh well. I field stripped her, wiped up the "excess" with her blanket, and strapped her back in praying that the volcano wouldn't erupt again. Does anyone know how hot it was today? Driving with the windows down might have been just as miserable as being trapped in a moving bubble of metal hurling down the road only to come to a dead stand still on Towne Lake Parkway while the news truck was doing a story about someone stealing the Optimist Club flags. Ok. I appreciate their pain and would like to subject the thieves to my van-o-puke for punishment but GET... OUT.. OF... THE... WAY!
4:30 We finally made it home. Annie jumped from the van and ran inside chattering all the way as if nothing had happened. Really?
5:30 Dinner was served. Do I make Annie go with the BRAT diet (bread, rice, applesauce, toast) or let her eat the darn pasghetti like she wanted? Oh well. Eat the pasghetti. I'll live life on the edge tonight. While we dined, Grant took on the job of informer and told me about social studies class where the students had to debate the candidates during class today. (He had to interview a parent about their political convictions and then take that information to school and basically justify their parents' political choices. I understand teaching them about the candidates but it sounded like things got a bit out of hand). But, that wasn't the worst of it. I guess middle school boys are enjoying some sort of sadistic game where when you go to the bathroom and are... um... venerable, they try to rip off your manhood. Look, this is left field stuff for me. I can't begin to imagine what goes on in a middle school boys' bathroom and I don't want to. However, I asked him if people were tattling (see, that's the elementary teacher in me... tattle tale, tattle tale, hang your britches on a nail...). He looked at me like he was horrified and screeched, "No way! Snitches get stitches!" Seriously? We changed the subject at that point.
Ice cream fixes everything. I'd stashed this away a few days ago and tonight was the right night to break it out.
Annie (still naked after I stripped her in the van) decided that her stomach was talking. When we asked her what it was saying, she looked at us all like we were stupid and said, "My stomach can't talk. It only growls."
I started cleaning up the dishes while Annie asked to paint. I didn't think to ask her what liquid she was using to wet her paint brush. She just kept adding master pieces to the fridge. Then, I figured it out... apple juice was the medium she was mixing her paint with. Nice. I believe these master pieces probably say, "Ants, come and get it! This place is awesome!"
Now, Grant is rearranging his Legos.
The girls are watching Bedtime Stories and playing Barbies.
And, I'm going to read my book and enjoy the simplicity of being in my bed with my pjs at 9:30 on Friday night. Tonight would have been the perfect night for a sitter, a nice dinner where I didn't have to cut anyones spaghetti or watch folks cry over spilled milk, and then a movie with my own slushie and popcorn. And, when I finally made it home, everyone would be asleep in bed and the house would be sparkling clean. Oh wait. I'm awake now. I slipped into a delirious dream for a moment.
For now, Thing 3 is literally sitting on the edge of my tub and asking me, "Is this where you pee?" and, "Rojo means blue." Here's the deal. If she really pees on the edge of my tub, someone is getting a toddler on their doorstep in about 10 minutes. And, I'm going to send her to a Spanish speaking country to get these color words straightened out. The Spanish I know I've learned from Dora so I'm limited. Ugh. It's 9:45, why is she still up? Oh, because I'd slipped into that delirious dream again. (She just flushed the toilet three times. Each flush sounds like... Not good. Not good. Not good). Going to see if I should start building an ark due to an overflowing toilet.
Good night, all.
(For now, I've mopped the floor up, cleaned up the Butt Rash paste that Annie applied to herself, and had a WWF cage match with her to spray saline in her nose to rid her of snot - missed and hit her eye but at least she can breathe. Sight is overrated. She can sleep off her blindness).
For real this time, good night, all.
No comments:
Post a Comment