Girly Cupcakes, Swimming Vans, and Hidden Undies

OK, so just when I thought I'd figured out what MY problem was, everything hits the ceiling AGAIN! As I've been dissecting my feelings over the last couple of days, I figured out that my love tank is empty. This sounds silly. Yeah. Basically, I've given all I have to give and I'm running on empty! I give to 24 children all day long plus do the ridiculous bidding of the administrators and politicians running the building. Then, I head home and give to all three kids until they drop off to sleep. Then, I give to keeping the house in running order. Some nights, that means paying the bills. Other nights, that means doing laundry or packing lunches. I'm just all give out! There's nothing left to give. Kaplooey! Zip-O. Done.

Then, my question became, well, "How do I refill the tank?" Yes, there are absolutely ways that I can re-energize and renew my spirit but I'm even emotionally empty. There are no more tears to cry. There are no more tantrums of "It's not fair-itis" to throw. There's truly nothing but auto pilot.

While I was pondering this, I decided to try to do something fun and different with the kids this morning. I heard about a cute little cupcake and ice cream shop across town. I figured the kids would love to substitute one of those choices for a PB&J sandwich for lunch so we loaded up and headed out.

They're coming to get my food!

Do you seriously want me to share this?

I thought I was doing something nice. Grant actually was quite a pill (that's putting it kindly) all the way to the store but I figured he'd get over it. When we got there, Grant and Dasha decided that they wanted ice cream instead of a cupcake. Geez. We could have gotten ice cream back on our side of the world AND I had budgeted for cupcakes - not ice cream that you pay for by the ounce! I tried to curtail the big kids' toppings and encouraged them to choose lighter toppings like sprinkles instead of M&Ms. That didn't go over so well, though. Oh well. So, two cups of ice cream and one cupcake took a $18 chunk out of the budget. Are you serious? These folks really thought highly of those cupcakes! Like I said, "OH WELL!"

As we got back into the van, Grant suddenly got sullen again. I'd just about had it. I finally told him he had two choices. Choice one was to tell me what he was pouting about and choice two was to tell me what he was pouting about AND have a consequence. He burst out with, "That is such a chick joint!" What? Really? Are you kidding me? After a few more questions, he told me that all of the GIRLS at school talked about going to this little cupcake place and he felt like I'd insulted his manliness by "forcing" him to go there. Hmmmm... He sure didn't seem to mind it so much when he was downing his $7 cup of ice cream! I really tried to just let it go and believe that this was just one of those weird middle school things that I was just going to have to go along with despite not understanding it. Meanwhile, the girls were in the back of the van talking about going to grandma's house to get more ice cream. My thought was, "Yeah, you could have two gallons of ice cream AND M&Ms!"

When we got back home, I gave Dasha a list with three chores on it to complete while I went upstairs to finish laundry. I'm trying to get all of the DVDs and toys out of the living room before we start the job of ripping up the carpet to put the new flooring down. I know that if I have things clean and organized before the demo begins, I'll be in a much better place mentally! Anyway, I put Annie down for a nap and told Grant that his room had to be cleaned before he could do anything else. I also told him that it needed to be done up to MY quality standards - not his!

I left the kids to their various tasks and headed to my room to fold the tower of laundry that was oozing off of my bed. I ironed and folded for almost an hour before I heard a scratching sound. I thought maybe Annie was up. Nope. I went to check Dasha's room. One of the jobs that she'd needed to tend to was moving some of her winter clothes into a plastic storage box. The scratching was coming from inside the box. Yep. My cat. Inside the box. Lid snapped on tight. Should I cry? Nope. It doesn't help. It just depletes my energy. When I asked Dasha to explain the situation, she could only tell me that it was an accident. Yeah. And my finishing off those chocolate chip cookies was an accident, too! Whatever! Believe it or not, I just walked away. I still haven't even addressed it with her. It doesn't seem to matter. She'll agree that it's a bad thing today but then do it again tomorrow. It's pointless. I guess I'm just going to have to give my poor old cat away. She's too old for this kind of torture. I just went back to folding laundry. I really sort of felt like Rainman. Standing there taking great comfort in folding clothes. Kmart sucks. Kmart sucks. Kmart sucks.

Then, this afternoon Dad and Grant went to a race at Dixie with the scouts so I decided to try to convince mom to let me stash the other two inmates with her. Mom agreed to take charge and I was left to figure out what to do. I had two options. My first option was to go and get a pedicure. This is a major luxury but one that I try to take every so often. My second option was to go roam the fabric store without any children trying to kill old ladies on scooters or escape from the buggy (remember that trip)? I decided to head to the fabric store. I've wanted to make a new curtain for my bathroom for some time so I thought tonight would be a good night to look for something suitable. Mom asked me to return a couple of things for her at a neighboring store while I was out. Obviously, I agreed quickly for fear that she'd renig on the babysitting deal!

I took the longest route possible to the fabric store. I opened the sunroof, the windows, and turned my music up. It was just what I needed. (If I'd only known what was coming next, I would have just gotten onto 285 and kept doing laps all night long)! When I reached Hobby Lobby to return mom's stuff, I noticed that it was getting cloudy and I thought I heard a rumble of thunder. The ONLY concerning thoughts I had at that point were about Dad and Grant at the race and being pretty sure that they didn't have an umbrella and calling Mom to tell her that Annie has just developed quite a fear of thunder. So, I stopped and called Mom and then went on in the store. About the time I'd finished the transaction, the bottom fell out. It was like the scene from Forrest Gump where he describes the rain as "coming up from the ground." Oh well. I decided to roam around the store for a bit while the rain slowed to more of a monsoon-type rain. I could hear the rain pelting the roof but I really didn't think too much of it until someone on the loud speaker said, "Could the owner of a white van please come to the front of the store?" Yeah. At best, my thought was, "Crap!" I was quite sure that they weren't calling me to the front to tell me that they were going to give me a million dollars for driving a white mini-van! Nope. There was quite a gathering of folks standing in the foyer of the store staring toward where I'd parked the van. The van was swimming. Yep. The water was up over the door jamb. All of these jerks standing there were laughing about it. As I stood there wordlessly trying to figure out what to do, I just felt lost. Some how, I finally got my senses together and realized that I could wait the rain out but the water in the parking lot probably wouldn't recede very quickly. The drain in the parking lot was obviously stopped up. Or, I could just make a run for it and crawl in through the back of the van and try to move the van before any more damage was done. I went with the second option. I literally shoved my way through the amused patrons and ran toward the van. Before I reached the van, the water was up to my calf. Not good. Now, I had all of those goof-balls watching me, too. So, I popped the back of the van with the remote (yeah, real cool like Knight Rider or something). What I'd neglected to think about was the stroller and the box of clothes that were stowed back there to go to the consignment store. Great. Somehow, I managed to crawl over everything and over the back seat knowing that everyone was watching my wet butt struggle over the seat. By this time, I was majorly pissed and crying. For me, those two things don't translate into grace or patience. I finally dropped into the driver's seat and looked around to see that most of the carpet was dry. That was at least a bit of good news. As I put the key into the ignition, I suddenly wondered what would happen if the van wouldn't start. Thankfully, it did. I backed out of the water without any more drama. I drove around the parking lot a few times to make sure that the brakes were ok and that nothing was going to blow up. There was some shrill belt squealing but it stopped eventually. (I'm not sure if the belt just blew off and the poor van didn't have the heart to quit on me or if the belt just dried out).

So after a wet vac and some elbow grease, I think the van will survive. My emotions, however, are shot. I started off the day in the "numb" category. Normally, that is like "safe mode" and protects me from tears or other outbursts. It didn't work today, though. I know the people at the car wash where I vacuumed the van thought I was completely nuts. I didn't care.

I finally got back to Mom's and grabbed the girls and high-tailed it to a safety zone - home. I went back to the comfort of doing laundry after I had the girls in bed. Grant and Dad were still at the race so I went into Grant's room to grab his laundry basket. I figured that when he'd cleaned his room up this morning he'd unearthed at least a couple of pairs of undies from under his bed. Hmmmm. Empty hamper. How? Wait a minute! Yep. As I pulled his mattress back from the wall, I found everything that had been littering his floor stuffed behind the bed. The deal was that he was supposed to clean up based on MY cleaning quality standards - not his. Does he think that this would meet my standards? His room was supposed to be cleaned before he went to the race tonight. He tricked me. Do you remember my statement about feeling like the big kids had decided to both play the crazy card on me at the same time? Yep. This is just more evidence.

So, Grant will be sad to know that when he gets home, his phone will no longer do anything more than make phone calls. No internet, games, or anything else. And, he won't be surfing the internet on any of the home computers, either. I have truly never had to put him on a serious "restriction." Maybe that's why we're dealing with it now. I don't know. I'm sure not in a position to figure anything out tonight except how much Nyquil I can take without doing permanent damage! Geez.

I do admit that I rolled around in quite a bit of "It's Not Fair" ooze over the last few hours. I kept thinking, "While I'm dealing with one snotty nosed child that hasn't slept through the night in a week, one child with Pig Pen's genes, and one who seems to be intent of knocking my cat off, he's going out to eat, going to concerts, and sleeping in." I don't even know why I travel down that road anymore, though. It's not like it makes me feel any better and it sure doesn't change anything. I just don't understand. Don't get me wrong, though. There are days when I'd like to walk away from everyone and everything for a breather but I could never do it for than more than a day or two. It's been almost three months since he's seen the kids. How? I've got to tell you that absolutely NOTHING could keep me from these kids even at their craziest moments. I just don't understand. The kids don't understand. Oh well. He's not the man he once was I guess.

On that note, I'm going to bed. My head is a hurricane of thoughts swirling around and my heart feels physically heavy. (No, my blood pressure is just fine, thank you. I had a check up on Wednesday and got a clean bill of health minus the sinus infection)! Anyway, I know hundreds and thousands of other women have walked this road and probably had worse situations than I have. I just don't know how they do it. Where I used to think I was strong, I now find that I'm weak or maybe it's just that I'm broken. Too much to figure out for me tonight or even for a counselor in a year!

Good night, all.

Recap

Don't panic. I'm still alive and all three children are still alive, as well. I'm heading to bed but wanted to calm everyone's nerves. I'm cracking up at all of the emails wanting to know if things are "ok." Yes, things are ok. It has just been one of THOSE weeks. I can't wait for tomorrow, though.

Here's a recap of the last few days...

-Dasha has a book report due tomorrow (150+ page book) but hadn't started the book as of Tuesday night. She'd been reading a cookbook in her room when I thought she was reading the chapter book. We read the book in two nights and finished the book report minutes ago. I won't begin to mention all of the other assignments that have gone unfinished simply because they weren't "fun" for her. Suddenly, if it's not fun, she doesn't deem it necessary. (Heck, if fun was the first thing on my checklist, I would have been out of here by now)!

-Grant has had a crappy, drama filled week. I know that he's "at that age" and "going through so much" but he almost lost his head more than once for huffing at me. He's tired and has been impossible to drag out of bed each morning which doesn't put me in the best mood. He lost a book on Monday. His band director said he didn't turn in the $140 check I sent in. He was "pushed" to the ground at scouts and sustained quite a surface wound (more character). He dropped his phone and the touch screen shattered. After that, he received a text from Eric that was meant for Eric's "baby." (OK, this one did him in for the night and I didn't know if I'd be able to calm him down. His words were, "I feel like I just got slapped across the face)!" And, tonight, he went with my dad to the Rachel's Challenge program at school and endured watching my dad pretend to NOT cry and diverting those tears into squirming around like a five year old doing a potty dance! He'd better be in bed right now!

-Then, as usual, there's Annie. She's been a roller coaster this week but it all made sense tonight when she started sneezing her head off and her nose started oozing goo. Yep. She's sick. Just what I need for the weekend!

-As for me, I've been sick, too, but there hasn't been time to slow down and worry about it. I went to the doctor on Wednesday and got some meds, though. I'm living in a state of numbness right now to avoid anything that might puncture through to my raw emotions. I'm hoping for some rest this weekend to recuperate and get my act together!

So, we are all still alive and living under one roof. No one has had to be bailed out of the Cherokee County lock up (yet). Tomorrow night, we'll head to the school Groovy Dance so all bets are off as to what happens there. Whew!

Night, all!

Big Bird's Nest, Tag Team Goes Pro, and Manners 101

Good news - I feel better.

Bad news - It was one of THOSE days!

Remember my plan last night about taking Nyquil and dropping into bed. Well, that did happen. However, when I went to get Annie up this morning, I found her in her closet. She'd pulled her old crib bumper out of a plastic bucket and snuggled into it like a nest. Now, before you go nuts, there's absolutely NO way that she slept like that all night! That was my first thought and I about burst into tears! I'm not a heavy sleeper - even under the influence of Nyquil. I would have definitely heard her migrating into her closet! I think she probably made the move when I got up to get a shower this morning and opened her door. Anyway, that was the first drama of the day. Granted, it was kind of funny after the initial shock wore off but at the moment, I really thought I'd failed as a mom and not heard her last night!

My day at school was what I'm going to call the "new normal." There are just so many changes that I'm not sure which end is up and which end I should be kissing!

When I got home, it all broke loose. Grant informed me that he had NOT received his band equipment today eventhough I wrote a check and sent it in on the very first day of school. He swears he turned it in but the band director said he never got it. Great. Then, Grant tells me that he lost his language arts workbook. I would have believed this coming from Dasha but Grant is pretty organized and hasn't ever even lost a library book. So, I emailed his teacher to find out what the replacement cost of the book was. While I was emailing this teacher, I got an email notification that a grade had been posted to Grant's account of NHI which means "not handed in" and gets a zero. What? I hate when the kids tag team me in the crazy department and I don't realize when they're changing roles! Once again, Grant promises that he turned the paper in. I gave him 24 hours to try to figure it out on his own before I start calling teachers.

(Note, while all of this is going on, Annie is at the top of the stairs wailing because I told her that she couldn't bring her paci downstairs. The rule is that the cork is for bedtime only - and for when I really lose control and don't care what anyone has in their mouth)!

So, I moved my assult on to Dasha. Last night, I discovered that Dasha had several assignemnts that weren't complete. Yes, I'm a deliquent mom and don't even peek in bookbags until 10:00 on Sunday night! So, I just wrote a big note and stapled it into her agenda and basically told the teachers that she'd take whatever she had coming to her! Well, what I didn't know was that one of the things that she "has coming to her" is a book report that's due Friday over a book that's at least 150 pages long. Um, yeah. Then, the book report format is going to take us years to complete! I'm thinking that there's going to be a lot a crying for the rest of the week about this deadline. And, this was only one of four assignments that she hadn't turned in. When I questioned her about the others this morning, she simply said, "Oh. I guess I just forgot."

Now, I really didn't see this coming. In the past, the big kids have worked as a team and they take turns being crazy. Annie maintains a consistent state of crazy but I expect that so I'm not shocked when that happens. However, the big kids seemed to have changed their game plan and they've decided to BOTH play the crazy card on me. Can I buy Valium over the counter? I think I'm going to need something stronger than Crystal Light to calm my nerves!

To top it off, Dasha just finished up a project where she had to cut pictures from a magazine and glue them into categories. I gave her some OLD Southern Living and Martha Stewart magazines. For some reason, she thought she also needed to remove pages from my new IKEA catalog. Seriously? I'd been saving that catalog to look through when I could peruse the pages without any sticky little fingers trying to treat it like a Where's Waldo book! I thought I managed to Lamaze breathe through the whole situation and move on until Grant came downstairs (he'd been at scouts) and informed me that he had to do the same project but with things about Britain. What? I left him on his own to figure it out. He's probably cutting pictures from the IKEA catalog (even though that's Swedish) and will then move on to find some other treasure to hack apart. I don't even care as long as he gets the darn thing done and goes to bed!!!!

I did manage to feed the girls before the magazine drama hit full tilt. Dinner actually was quite amusing tonight, though. I'm trying so hard to teach Annie table manners. I've given up on having her sit in her chair so I'm just requiring that she stay in one chair and not play musical chairs throughout the meal. Tonight's lesson was supposed to be eating with your mouth closed. She didn't get it. The poor thing kept trying but couldn't figure out how to chew and keep her lips together. I'm not sure how to help her figure it out but she finally just told me that it was ok if I saw her food in her mouth.

I did give up and let her eat her pizza like a wild animal. It wasn't like it was a DiGiono pizza or anything fancy. I guess eating a $0.99 pizza with your mouth open is better than letting caviar or something expensive dribble out of your mouth! Hey, it's all relative tonight.

So, with Annie in her bed (and not in the closet in a nest like Big Bird), Dasha in her bed reading her book for the book report, and Grant still cutting out random items from magazines, I'm calling it quits for the night. Hopefully, tomorrow will bring less drama!

Good night, all!

PS - Dad bought the laminate for the floors today! He didn't even remeasure the area! AAAHHH!!!!

Sickness, PVC Weapons, and Help Wanted

Today, I keep counting my blessings. I'm having one of those days when I'd just like to throw in the towel but I'm determined not to lose ground!

I knew I was getting sick on Friday afternoon. My throat was sore and I was just generally achy. Part of me tried to blame it on the stress of the week but I knew better deep down inside. I'd had two students go home sick so I figured that they'd left me a parting gift of some leftover germs. When I finally left school on Friday about 5:30, I basically came home and crashed. No sooner than I'd plopped down on the sofa, Grant pulled out "the tooter" and thought it would be a good idea to get some practice time in. Now, I'm all for practicing but WHY does he need to do it under my direct supervision? I finally had to tell him to give the goose killer a rest for a bit. He was definitely hurt that I didn't want to be lulled into relaxation by his "music." I don't quite remember how the rest of the night went but I remember something about some Robitussin and Tylenol. Saturday was a haze of nothingness. I felt worse but was able to just lounge around. (I just cracked myself up at the thought of lounging around in this house with three kids. It's all relative)!

Anyway, this morning brought a round of fever and crazy children. I felt horrible and just wanted to rest in peace. It seemed that none of the children habitating here agreed, though. Suddenly, things that they can usually do by themselves, they needed my undivided help to do. Ugh. I'm just not sure how I'm supposed to gracefully be sick and still run this house! To top it all off, Dasha is in major crazy mode and went after Annie with a piece of PVC pipe from the playhouse. She ended up hitting her in the mouth but didn't cause any damage beyond some hysterical siren sounding screaming and tears. I can't even begin to address that moment in time right now. I was seriously counting it a blessing that I didn't feel good and didn't have the energy to chase after her and... I don't know what I would have done to her. She ended up spending time in the Randolph Stairwell Penitentiary, though. I don't think she minded, though. (This drama is added atop of her drama last week at school that I might have the nerve to write about one day when I can think about it without having my blood pressure sky rocket)! Heck, I'm beginning to think maybe I should commit some misdemeanor crime and get sentenced to a few days behind bars. Clean sheets, room service, protected from the outside world. Doesn't sound too bad right now. Kind of like a vacation.

I admit that a couple of months ago, I would have gone into a round of "Woe is Me! It's not Fair," after a weekend like this. However, I skipped the song and dance and just went for the ugly thoughts that I managed to keep to myself. I just wanted someone to come hold the fort down and let me stay in my pjs, in bed, with my eyes closed completely (not peeking out continually to see which child was standing over me with some blunt object)! It has been a very long day. Somehow, everything got done and all of the children have been account for, drugged (oh, I mean given yummy vitamins), and put to bed for the night! (Geez. You all know I'm kidding! I can't even give my crew Benadryl. It hypes them up. It really was a vitamin! I don't need to be met at school in the morning by Deputy Dunkin Donuts Dan asking me questions about medications)!

Thankfully, I'm feeling better and I have things organized enough to get everyone out of the house in the morning and get to school before bus duty begins. (Ugh. I hate bus duty weeks). So, that means that I can go to bed and hopefully sleep undisturbed all night long and wake up feeling like that crazy singing princess from Enchanted! (If that girl ever burst into my bedroom singing like that in the morning, I think I'd look for some PVC pipe and start swinging, too)!

On a completely different note, my parents have decided that for my birthday, they want to put "hardwood" floors in my living room and dining room. The carpet was shot when we moved in six years ago! However, my dad is convinced that he's going to put it down himself. (Yes, I hear the hysterical laughter from all that know how my dad operates)! I absolutely love my dad but his attention to detail is, well, non-existent. If anyone reading my crazy story knows of someone who needs to do some community service (like helping lay snap together laminate flooring), would you please let me know? There's absolutely NO way that dad could handle the labor alone even if he wore a cape and tights (ugh, gross). And, I can't ask them to foot the bill for having it professionally installed (beggars can't be choosers) and I can't afford to pay someone myself. I'm just asking to see if anyone would be interested in helping. The only pay that would be involved would be food, drink, and my undying gratitude (and my dad's). And, please don't tell mom and dad that I'm soliciting help here in the public. I don't ever want dad to think I underestimate his abilities but... He thinks I have some magical phone book that I can pull out and just call a couple of guys to come help out. Um. No. I think that phone book must be on the shelf with the "How to Be a Superstar Mom" and "How to Grow a Money Tree" books.

Anyway, I'm heading to bed with a full cup of Nyquil, the alarm set at the highest volume, the baby monitor moved right next to my head and turned all the way up, and the baby gate at the top of the stairs. I figure the gate would keep any prowlers out unless they have little ones of their own and know how the open the darn thing and it will keep all of the intended inhabitants in the upper quadrant of the house!

Good night, all.

(If you know someone who'd be willing to help, you can reach me at swilliamsrandolph@gmail.com).

I don't have to...

FRIDAY...

• I don't have to lay out anyone's clothes tonight.
• I don't have to enforce bath time.
• I don't have to be the homework warden.
• I don't have to make anyone walk the plank and go to bed early.
• I don't have to pack lunches, snacks, or ugly letters to teachers.
• I don't have to clean off the counter (or anything else)!
• I don't have to grade papers.
• I don't have to set the alarm. (If only Annie had a snooze button)!
• I don't have to do anything! Friday is my favorite night of the week!

Date Night and Tooters

What a long day! I'm finally getting into the routine of things at school and I think the kids are too. Grant seems to be leaving the flair for the dramatic woe is me stuff behind which is such a relief. Dasha, on the other hand, is still struggling. She's having a hard time navigating the building physically and emotionally / socially, she's just a mess. The words from the first therapy session keep coming back to me. "Things will get worse in middle school." That was an understatement and I just didn't know it! Whew! But, we made it through another day! After taking 3 1/2 hours last night to do 5 homework problems, I was unsure of what I'd do if we had to do another marathon like that! (I emailed her teacher only to find out that she was supposed to do the first couple of problems)!

Tonight, Grant had to be back at school to pick up his new instrument. After all of the paperwork I signed, I really expected to be handed a set of keys to a car or a house! Instead, we were handed a french horn. To Grant, that was equally exciting. He loves his music class and is so excited to finally have his instrument.

After we picked up the tooter (I believe that's what I'll call the horn until he masters how to play it), Grant and I had our own little mini date night. We went out to eat at a real restaurant (thanks to blessings from a friend) and just leisurely chatted. Um, well. Chatting usually requires two people to talk. I don't think I got to say more than about five words throughout dinner. Grant ordered for both of us and then continued to converse with me throughout the meal. It was neat to hear how grown up he suddenly sounds.

As for me, It's after 9:00 and I just put the girls down and still haven't graded a single paper yet. Not good! I'm heading to the quiet of the dining room table to finish up for the night and head to bed. It's a good thing tomorrow is Friday becuase dragging these kids out of bed at 5:45 is getting harder and harder each morning. I literally drug Annie from her bed this morning! She was not amused at ALL!

As for my own roller coaster ride, I'm currently perched at the top of a hill and just waiting to see which way I'm going to go. I'm looking forward to having time this weekend to hang out with an old friend who is always so wise and grounded and just talk things through to figure out a plan to get off of this dang coaster! Dramamine just isn't doing the trick any more and I'm tired of being motion sick! (Insert barf bag)

Good night, all.

Bring it on!

Most of my life, I've been a rule follower. I want to keep status quo and not cause any wrinkles. Over the last few months, my skin has toughened and I'm proud to say that I'm not afraid of a little battle here and there. I still don't thrive on discord and disputes but I don't mind holding my own to protect my boundaries or those I love.

I'm tired of being nice about things. I'm tired of being a door mat. I'm tired of being quiet. I'm tired of counting change to make ends meet! And, I'm tired of drying Grant's eyes as he goes to bed at night! I'm tired of having dreams that haunt me and have me seeing the clock at all hours of the night. I'm tired of feeling like I was the one that wasn't "good enough."

Well, let me just say, this girl ain't goin' down without a fight! And, I won't let my family go down either! Bring it on!

Good night, all!

Door Damage, Goose Honking, and Guarded Thoughts

I'm heading to bed. It's been a long day. School went smoothly today and I finally felt like we had the routine up to a normal speed. The last week has drug on with all of the fluff of first week of school activities. I'm finally able to put the real meat on the table and get busy. That makes me happy.

As for the other occupants of this house, they are all going to bed in varying conditions tonight. Annie took an early nap at the sitter's house today and was a nightmare until the hour when I could justify sending her to bed. Then, she started screaming and I ran upstairs to see what the problem was and swung the door open only to knock her to the floor with the door. I never dreamed that she'd be standing right on the other side of the door. There wasn't any permanaent damage done and rocking and reading a bazillion more books seemed to undo any damage that had been done.

Grant woke up this morning with a sore throat. So, tonight, he was sentenced to a hot shower and an early bed time. I wish someone would saddle me with that proclamation! Whew. However, he was in better spirits about school. He has sort of a block schedule where he alternates band and gym. Today was a band day so he was thrilled. I'm amazed at his natural talent when it comes to music. In less than a week, he learned to read all of the notes in the treble and bass clefs and can identify and count the different notes. Yes, I know he'd had some instruction before but he is so motivated to do this of his own accord. It's not because I'm forcing him to do it. Wow. Tomorrow night, we have to go "purchase" his instrument. I don't think I'm ready for that home practicing to begin. He pulled out my old trumpet last week and was "practicing" with it. The whole house was rattling with goose honks! I sure hope he becomes competent quickly so those goose honks will actually sound something like music. (He's chosen to play the French Horn which is what I played in high school so maybe I can help him along a bit or find some extra foam to soundproof his room with). So, I'm slowly learning that his vision for what kind of day he's going to have is largely based on what specialty class he has that day. I'm not thrilled to think that he'll have gym 3 days next week and band only 2 days!

And then, there's Dasha. I'm going to limit myself on what I say here because I'm still emotionally fired up at her this evening. All I can say is that the sweet little girl that came into our home five years ago has temporarily stepped out of the building! In the last week, there's been lying, spitefulness, stealing, and laziness. She doesn't see the importance of school since it's not "fun" any more and isn't making any attempt to figure things out. I'm at a loss with her. I'm not in the building with her anymore and I can't just walk around to her teachers and ask for clarification on assignments that she's "forgotten." Anyway, like I said, I'm not going to publish too many of my emotions tonight surrounding her actions other than it's not fair that she's dominating the little bit of time I have at night with the kids with her own selfish hysterics. Grant ended up on Annie duty tonight for quite a while so I could unravel the lies and deceit of the papers she'd hidden in her binder and the homework that she hadn't done but had erased from her agenda so I wouldn't know about it. Ugh.

As for me, I'm going to fall into bed with a book and feel like I'm finally beginning to keep my head above water at school - even it's just mere millimeters above - and know that I truly did the best I could with everyone and everything tonight. I do feel guilty that Grant took the brunt of Annie's sleep-deprived wrath but I'm prayerful that God will use this time in his life to make him into a better man one day. He's going to make someone a great husband who will come equipped with the knowledge of changing diapers, doing dishes, cooking, doing laundry, handling a two-year-old's melt downs, bathing squirmy toddlers, and even reading every book off of a bookshelf to lull a fussy baby to sleep - all without a complaint (at least not to my face)! :)

Good night, all!

Boxers or Briefs, Flag Boys, and Hiding My Eyes (Maybe)

Lost. Today was a day when I found myself dealing with things that I admittedly know NOTHING about! I felt like I was trying to change the motor in a car. It was the first day that Grant had to "dress out" in PE. I absolutely remember how mortifying that whole locker room situation was to me in 7th grade. Why in this world would you purposely change clothes in front of a room full of people you don't know. In fact, that's one of my nightmares! You know! That dream when you find yourself standing in public somewhere wearing nothing more than your birthday suit? I think everyone has had a similar dream and I'm sure that there's some meaning behind it. Anyway, I've "been there and done that" so I really didn't think it would be too hard to coach Grant about what to expect. I should've know that I was failing when he had a meltdown last night because I hadn't bought him new undies. It wasn't like he was wearing UnderRoos or something! He actually has a drawer full of Eric's old undies that he had "issues" with. Ok, maybe TMI. Sorry! Anyway, mom ended up making an 8:00 run to Kohls last night to buy him new boxer shorts. I just couldn't figure out the importance of the underwear. I should have realized that I was missing the big picture when I couldn't even figure out buying new drawers for the kid!

Anyway, he made it through PE today but completely blew me away with his report of what was being compared in the locker room. Seriously? I didn't know that guys REALLY compared those things! Grant wanted baggy drawers to hide his "manhood" from being sized up. Geez. And I thought it was all about style!

If that wasn't enough for one day, I just spent the last two hours helping a group of 6th grade boys create a patrol flag for scouts. At first, the scouts were kind and seemed to be courteous since there was a "lady" in the room. However, after a few minutes, that kind of behavior grew boring and they started to let it all hang out. What was I to do? The teacher in me wanted to demand that everyone sit down and get quiet. But, this isn't school. What's protocol? Grant is the patrol leader and I kept looking at him hoping he'd give me some sort of indicator as to what was going to happen next. Were the boys going to tie me up and hoist me to the top of the flag pole with the new flag or had I just become a static piece of furniture in the room? As the boys used a hot iron to fuse the fabric on to the flag, I began to realize that I'd tried to impose Martha Stewart crafts on a bunch of boys. No wonder they were miserable. There weren't any explosions. No blood. No guts. No dirt. There were scissors, fabric, and a hot iron. Geez. Once again, OUT OF MY LEAGUE! The boys did finally complete the flag (not in the style and perfection that I would have preferred) but my blood pressure sure took a hit.

As we started to leave, I asked Grant if I'd embarrassed him. He just looked at me. I didn't sing. I didn't skip. I didn't make them color Dora pictures. What exactly had I done? I need to know so I don't do it again. I don't know what's acceptable to boys. (Now, there's definitely a line where I don't care what the heck they think - such as when they started pounding each other in the face with a basketball for fun). Grant never did give me a specific answer but I'm going to demand one before I put myself into that predicament again.

As for tomorrow, I've washed the new baggy boxer shorts and they are ready to be worn. I didn't check his math homework and circle problems for him to redo. (I can pull rank in this area at any time). I didn't burst in the bathroom door to brush my teeth while he was in the shower. (I stumbled in blindly covering my eyes and proclaiming to him that I couldn't see a thing. Um, one day, he'll realize that if I couldn't see anything, I wouldn't be able to get my toothbrush)! I'm trying to accept the fact that he's growing up but I don't like it! He'll always be my baby boy.

As a side note for tonight, the bank was kind enough to reactivate my debit card and put $400 of the $800 back into my account. The remaining $400 is still "pending" investigation. Why didn't the investigation that cleared the first $400 also clear the second $400? This has been a major frustration! I'm not happy with the way they've handled things but it's not as if I can go into the bank and demand my $400. If I remember correctly, isn't that called robbing a bank?

Good night, all!

My name is Susan and I'm a passive aggressive control freak. So?

^"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11

My revelation for today was simply that I don't like change unless I'm in control of the change. Yeah, I admit that I learned that from the stupid therapy workbook as much as I'd like to ditch the book, it does offer some very solid insight. I knew I didn't like change. That wasn't a big surprise. However, I do enjoy some changes like moving the furniture around or going somewhere different. I was finally able to find the lens that makes it all make sense, though. It's all about ME being in control. There's a huge piece of me that huffed when all of the pieces fell into place and things became clear. I immediately thought, "Duh! I have to be in control right now or this whole joint would go down the crapper!" Maybe I didn't think those exact words but after you knock the vulgarities off of my thoughts, that's the point you'd find. Control. Yes. I admit that I'm a control freak. And I even admit that I've learned that I control things in a passive aggressive way. Isn't that better than being an outward bi.... oh, oops. You know what I mean. But now, maintaining control means even more than it ever has before. It's all up to me. I have to control the kids, the finances, the house, my job, my students, my own emotions, the kids' emotions... The list is endless. Now that I have ultimate control over everything, I don't want it. I want to hand the reins over to someone else and just pass out for a few weeks. What a luxury that would be. Now, I know why the beginning of this school year has simply run me into the ground. We have a new principal, a new AP, the big kids are at different schools, I'm having to live a different life, and having to have different expectations of everything! And, absolutely none of that is truly in my control. I can pretend to control some of it but I can't. So, what do I do? Yes, I know that I can hand all of my burdens over to God and I routinely do that but I can't just say, "Ok, God. Here's my junk. You take it and I'm going to go to the beach." I wish it worked that way. I have to walk the walk and I'm growing weary. Yes, I have other folks who offer to help but as I've said a zillion times, it's just not the same. And, the other thing I'm learning is that the more help I accept, the more power I seem to give away. That old saying about beggars not being choosers keeps playing through my head as I feel like I'm losing a bit more control as I solicit more help. Maybe it's just all in my mind.

Anyway, at least I made it to the end of the first section of the therapy workbook. I'll admit that I didn't have too many revelations as I worked through the material. Most of it was simply self-analysis which borders on hysterical these days. As a perfectionist (on top of being a control freak), I'm probably tougher on myself than anyone else and that's part of why this whole therapy business is hard for me. There's a sliver of me that believes that if I can't "fix" everything, then I'm not perfect. Yeah, I know. Newsflash, I'm not perfect but it bugs the heck out of me to think that I've screwed it all up so bad that I can't figure it all out myself. (I know that this is all my own self-criticism playing out and that no one else sees it like this but, hey, I'm being honest).

Today was a pretty uneventful day at the Randolph compound. There were no escapees, no assaults, and no protests. The biggest problem was that Annie has now learned to string all of her intelligence together to formulate plans. Case in point - Last night, mom gave the kids a bag of peppermints. I put them on the counter out of reach of Annie. (It was out of her reach last night). When Annie spotted them this morning, she started whining for a piece. I told her, "No," because I didn't want to clean up the sticky red peppermint drool. I went on cleaning up the bar area and had my back to her. I might not have seen her formulate her plan but I sure heard her. She went to the bathroom and opened the door (new skill that she's perfected), got her step stool, and drug it back to the kitchen. She placed the stool right in front of the stove. By this time, I'd turned around to see her grab one of the knobs (thankfully, to the back burner) and turn it on. She thought her new trick was great! She was like a little caveman who'd just figured out how to make fire! When I grabbed her and pulled her down, I scared the poo out of her and thought she'd learned her lesson. I put the stool up and busied her coloring. At some point, I got lax with supervision, though. I never heard her get the stool again. However, what I heard was the over door slamming open. I guess she'd tried to put her foot on it and use it as leverage to pull herself up onto the stove. Perfect. Now, the stool is hidden in "time out." Tomorrow, she'll probably try to drag the sofa to the counter, though. When the girl is determined, there's no stopping her! She'll jump baby gates, climb tables, jump from the piano to the sofa, or even stand on top of a ball in order to get what she wants. It's exhausting. Grant NEVER did these things! He always stayed right by my side.

So, tomorrow, I'll drop Annie off at Fatima's, warn Fatima that Annie might try to turn the stove on, and run! For now, I'm going to finish grading my last pile of papers and put laundry away. Then, I'll climb into my sheets that are only semi-clean thanks to Annie's decision to unscrew the lid of her cup (new skill) and drink without the lid on letting milk dribble onto the sheet. Yeah, I should change the sheets again but, hey, it's only me and it'll probably happen again tomorrow morning so why bother?

Good night, all!

Teflon Brains, Dasha vs. the Granny, and Ninja Mom

Do you know how sometimes something you read or hear just sticks in your brain and keeps revisiting you like a bad dream? That's what I've dealt with today. Lately, not much sticks to my brain. It's like my brain received a permanent coating of Teflon. I find myself having to write this down or risk irretrievable information. Maybe this is age, maybe it's not. Who knows. But, today, for some reason, I keep hearing one piece of information ringing in my ears. (And it must be pretty loud to be audible over the roar of children around here). Anyway, the point that people will remember you by how you handle your challenges and not how you handle your blessings has repeated in my mind today. This has bothered me for a bazillion reasons. So, you're telling me that folks aren't going to remember anything about me other than how I've walked my journey through burying my daughter and waving good-bye to my husband while in the arms of his mistress and trying to explain it to our children? Hmmm... I don't think I like that because I'm human! All of this pondering has to do directly with this blog. This stupid blog started out as a way for me to spew my guts and emotions and hopefully leave evidence of a path toward healing. I didn't know and still am clueless as to what "healing" looks like but that was my goal. Yeah, I linked it with my FB account but I only did that after scraping the sludge off of the bottom of my "friend list" on FB so the folks that were actually viewing this were supposedly a very few selected chosen ones. Then, I had my anonymous friend show up and and spill the juicy sprinkles about all of the details of this journey that I hadn't really intended for public knowledge. After that happened, I figured that just about anything was fair game. However, what I didn't know was how many crazy people would start following my insane journey down this road that I absolutely never dreamed I'd be wandering. At this point, for all I know, parents of my students might even be following this and that's where it gets really sticky. I'm finding myself candy-coating some of my emotions just to schmooze things over in case someone is reading this that might find me "unfit" to teach their child because I'm emotionally tied up right now. So, back to this point that's been rattling in my head all day about remembering me for how I handle adversity. I think I do believe that statement even though I don't really like it because I feel like my life just might be in the spotlight for the next twenty years as I walk through trials and adversity. I'm human. I have moments where I scream and yell and even hurl things across the room. (Ask the kids. They've seen the absolute worst of what I harbor on the inside and the distance which I can sling things. Maybe I should look into a shot-put team). But, that's what people are going to remember about me? Egads. I'm just kind of sitting on the fence about this whole blog deal right now. I can either make the whole thing private and by invitation only or I can just go for broke and put the truth out there and let others like it, lump it, or leave it. Oh well.

In other news tonight...

Today was actually a pretty productive day. Annie and I got up early this morning and actually got quite a bit of cleaning done before the big kids started rattling around. Grant had to be up and out the door by 9:45 for a scout event but he still got a couple of extra hours of beauty sleep.

While he was out haggling Kroger customers for money for candy, the girls and I went to JoAnn Fabric Store. Grant has to "help" make a flag for his patrol. It's the last thing that's holding him up on his next rank. So, I decided to go ahead and get all of the supplies so he can just take them to his next meeting and get the job done. I realized today that somehow, the doors on the JoAnn stores are kind of like a time warp for me. I could spend hours in there just looking at the fabric. I'm content to not even buy anything. I just like to wander around and dream about what I could make with this or that fabric if I had the time and energy. For some reason, though, the time warp doesn't work when children are in tow. Believe me, I had a very detailed plan of how I was going to approach this trip in order to curtail Annie's impact on my blood pressure. She nearly refuses to sit in a buggy any more and can unbuckle herself from the stroller and escape like a mini Houdini so that's pointless. That leaves me with two options. The first option is to buy one of those baby leashes. I've always been so judgmental of folks who walk their kids like dogs on those things but I'm beginning to think I might need to look into them and see if they have any that come equipped with Lo-Jack or some sort of shock device. My second option is to let her walk. Crap. Crap. Crap. I was forced to go with option two. JoAnn's was crowded this morning so this made things even more difficult. My plan was to grab "fat quarters" which are little squares of fabric that are pre-cut and you just grab what you want and pay for it. You don't have to stand in line waiting for someone to cut it for you. (And, they were 50% off)! The fabrics are arranged by color and I have the layout memorized. The red fabrics are right at the front door so that's where I started. I needed two pieces of red. Ok. Check. Got those without drama. Then, I needed a piece of green. Ok. Check. Then, I needed some brown. About this time, I look down at Annie to see that she's also holding about ten pieces of fabric in her own little hands saying that she's going to "make a project." I let her keep holding the pieces figuring that if her hands were already full, she wouldn't be able to grab anything else. Wrong. She started stuffing the pieces into her pants and shirt and grabbing more. It was like watching the security video from some amateur thieves knocking over a 7-11! Ok. Regroup. I took the fabric from under her shirt and pants and told her that I'd "help" her hold them. Then, I went back to get a buggy. I stowed Annie in the cart and headed back to the brown area to find something appropriate to make a rock. I felt like I was back on track and semi in charge. About that time, Dasha staggered backwards to regain her balance. (She's not walking very smoothly this week. I think it's due to sheer exhaustion). Anyway, as she stutter stepped, she fell over and landed on a lady driving one of the motorized carts. As I tried to get her up and off of the poor old grandma that had just been the victim of a surprise landing attempt, Annie started learning out of the cart and picking quilting accessories off of the shelf and tossing them into the buggy. The whole trip was supposed to take less than 15 minutes. We were in one of my favorite places to just get lost in time. However, I could definitely see that I did not want to be LOST with the passengers I was responsible for. I put all of the little grandma's things back into her basket and made sure she was ok. I stationed Dasha at the front of the buggy so she could hang on and use it like a walker. (Later on, I wondered if I should have ask the little grandma to let Dasha sit in the basket of her cart and they could be little riding buddies). I finally managed to get all of the fabric pieces I needed. The last thing on my list was the stuff you can use to stick pieces of fabric together with an iron. I don't have a clue what the technical name is. I just know it works. They'd rearranged lots of the shelves so it took me one loop around the store to figure out where it was. However, things were moving more smoothly now and I guess I got a bit too cocky. As I was comparing the prices of the sticky stuff, I didn't realize that just a few feet down (at the front of the buggy where Annie and Dasha were) there was a display of different sorts of pads that could be used for bathing suits or, I guess, a host of other different things. Of course, Annie and Dasha started having a conversation about them. Dasha noted that they looked soft. Annie poked at the package. The girls continued their innocent conversation so I semi-diverted my attention to my price comparisons. When I turned back around (I'm talking less than 10 seconds), both girls were holding packages up to their chests. Come on now! We were SO close to getting out of here without me uttering something I'd regret or meeting the security guard personally. I tried to give them "the look" but it was pointless. I burst out laughing until Dasha handed me a package and told me that it looked "my size." Ugh. Game over. Somehow, I managed to get everyone out of the store in one piece and willingly (and without a security guard ushering us out). I hope Grant relishes that next rank badge. Not only did I basically buy it for him, I also endured emotional damage to make it happen! :)

When we got home, everyone had a quick lunch. It was actually pretty easy to serve lunch today. The Little Ceasars' Pizza from last night was still sitting on the kitchen table. We just opened the box and ate what was left. Yeah, maybe I should be worried that we might get sick but when Annie is hungry, you don't really have time to think. You just react. I figure if she can eat cereal from under couch cushions that several years old, a pizza less than 24 hours old won't hurt her! (And, if Dasha can eat deodorant and not get sick, pizza sure won't hurt her)!

Why must she sleep like this? It freaks me out!

When the pizza was gone, I sent everyone to bed. Annie put up quite a fuss and laid in her bed for quite some time reading to herself. I changed out her selection of books next to her bed so I also got to enjoy the entertainment of hearing her "read" some new stories over the monitor. With Annie reading in the background, I was determined to get a few things done around the house. I found myself tippy toeing up and down the stairs and hallway outside the girls' rooms. After about the fourth trip up and down the stairs, I realized that I'd become something like a ninja mom. I was moving with stealth silence. I only walked on the outside of the steps where they're nailed down to avoid squeaks. I waited until the washing machine was on the roaring airplane / cyclone cycle before opening my closet door to put clothes away. (My closet door has become something like a sealed crypt due to the humidity in the house. There was one night last week that I seriously couldn't get the door open and just resorted to wearing something that I'd thrown in the "to be ironed - or just thrown in the dryer again" pile). Anyway, I did get quite a chuckle when I thought of my new title as a ninja. For anyone who has ever had a child that's a light sleeper, you know what I mean. You'll do anything to muffle sounds!

The girls slept for almost three hours. I finally woke them up because I knew I'd never get them back down tonight. However, I did. Last week just exhausted everyone. Part of me wishes that I'd napped too but I sure am glad to have the house in a semi-presentable condition again. I'm sure Martha Stewart wouldn't call it that but to someone that left the house at 6:15ish every morning last week dragging three kids behind and didn't cross the threshold again until at least 5:30 each evening, I think the house looks pretty darn good compared to the mess that had evolved.

As for a recap from yesterday...

• No, the money has not be re-credited to my bank account yet. I'm not surprised.
• No, Grant is not faring any better today. (Today, his dramatic soliloquy was about Eric getting to go out to eat all of the time when he hasn't been out to eat in over a month. I did remind him that he'd at least had plenty of food even if it had been served by the meanest waitress in Woodstock and told him that if he felt such a strong desire to eat "out" that I could have his meal delivered outside tomorrow night. Sometimes, I think he's trying more to push my buttons than actually mourning his losses).
• Yes, I discussed the whole evolution thing with Dasha again and looked through some books with her. She still doesn't understand how two adults could have different information. I finally framed it by saying that even adults lie and don't tell the truth. I think I made the whole darn thing a bigger mess. I've taken her from just being confused about the origin of Earth to doubting adults. Perfect. Add another star to the Mom of the Year chart for me, please. Just as a side note, the teacher that dumped all of this information into her lap via video is also the one that she's been hanging on. My mom took a stab at trying to address that tonight, as well, but how can you explain to Dasha that some adults are liars and some can't be trusted to simply give you a hug? Bye bye innocence. 

Tonight, I'm headed to bed to snuggle into my nice clean sheets free from crayon marks, spilled milk, and half a tube of Butt Paste. Ahhh.... It takes so little to make me happy these days! Tomorrow, we'll head for church and then get ready for next week. I'm determined to have everyone's clothes laid out for the WEEK, dinners planned (realistically), and everything clean enough so a quick fifteen minute marathon can put everything back into order. It sounded so much more realistic before I actually typed it out. Oh well. I can dream.

Good night, all.

Bank Fraud, Evolution, and Baseball Strikes

"Thanksgivings will pour out of the windows; laughter will spill through the doors. Things will get better and better. Depression days are over. They'll thrive, they'll flourish. The days of contempt will be over" (Jeremiah 30:19 Msg)

It's Friday. I'm tired. I'm ready to head to bed in hopes that Annie will sleep until at least 7:00 a.m.! Somehow, I've managed to cram enough drama, tears, and foot stomping to fill an entire year into this week! I just always seem to forget how exhausting the first week of school is. Year after year, I find myself surprised. I guess it's kind of like the pain of child birth. If you remembered the pain, you'd never have another ankle biter. If I remembered the exhaustion of week one, I don't know that I'd keep coming back! Whew!

Traditionally, Friday has always been the morning that we try to leave the house early and drive through somewhere and get a bagel or something different for breakfast. You can only eat so much oatmeal before your insides begin sticking to themselves! Ugh. Anyway, I knew I needed to run by the bank before heading to grab breakfast. As usual for the first Friday of the month, I drove through the bank and tried to make a $400 withdrawal. I use that money to pay for the sitter for two weeks and gas. Except, this morning, after I entered all of the codes and PINs and waited for the magic machine to shoot the cash out at me, nothing happened. I tried again. Nothing. Crap. I quickly drove to the bank next door and tried the same maneuver knowing that I'd owe the bank at least $2 for the pleasure of pushing the buttons on their ATM. The screen simply said that I'd reached my withdrawal limit. Really? But I didn't get any money! By now, there were tears involved. It wasn't even 6:30 a.m. and I was already feeling defeated!

I drove through Chick-a-Way (per Annie), handed Grant the grub to pass around, and started trying to log into my bank account from my phone (yes, while driving) to see if the money had been deducted from my account. Of course, there it was in black and white. The money had actually been deducted twice. But, wait! I didn't get the money!!! How could this be? I scrambled to call the bank and leave a frantic message that the stupid machine stole my money and wasn't working properly! I wondered if the next person to pull through the ATM would get an $800 "It's Your Lucky Day" treat when they tried to get money out, compliments of my bank account.

Anyway, once I got to school, my attention was on keeping my head above water and I didn't check my phone until this afternoon. The bank's fraud department had called to tell me they tagged my account. What? Seriously? I think they had it backwards! Their stupid ATM should have been reported to the fraud department! It lied about giving me money! When I finally was able to call the bank back from Shawshank (our school building is so dang secure that you can't even get cell service unless you hang your head out of a door), the nice little old lady told me that she'd email a form to fill out which would initiate an investigation. She said that they would have to pull the records from the ATM to determine what had happened. Basically, she said that they were going to hold $800 of my money hostage until they were sure that it was their ATM that was lying and not me and that my account would be frozen. Crud.

After making that phone call, I had to figure out how to get some moola. Thankfully, I'd stashed some cash away to pay for Grant's band instrument next week. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that those crazy folks will find me to be truthful and hand my money back!

When we got home, I just wanted to collapse on the sofa and have someone enclose me in cement for a few hours. No luck there, either. The big kids wanted to tell me all about their day. That's fine and I absolutely want them to share but I just needed a minute to get my breath. They didn't see it that way. Grant started telling me about a video that they watched in Earth Science about the creation of the world. Before he'd even started his story, I had a feeling I knew what he was going to tell me. Yep. The science teacher had shown a video which only presented the Big Bang Theory and Darwin. The creation story has always interested Grant so we've taken great care to walk him through the verses in the Bible that prove that God created the Earth. However, we've also been careful to tell him about what other people believe. So, he wasn't surprised at the video's information but a bit of his innocence was taken today. He was so upset that the teacher didn't even preface the video as someone's opinion or note that there are other theories. (Can I note that this is the same teacher I deemed "Neanderthal" several years ago when he worked in the Little River building? He just gives me the "uh-oh" feeling)! Anyway, Grant was aggravated with the whole situation. Then it hit me. Dasha has the same dang science teacher. Curiously, I called her over and ask what she'd learned in science today. She reported that she now knew how the Earth was made. She restated parts of the video in great detail. (She can't remember not to eat deodorant but she can remember how old the Earth is and the first living things on it)? As Grant overheard her conversation, he went nuts. He came blazing into the living room and told Dasha that God made the Earth and everything on it. It was one of those paralyzing moments. I didn't know what to do. I did reinforce what Grant had said but Dasha just stood there. Her first comment was, "But, that's not what the video and the teacher said." She believes absolutely anything she's told. So, I'm now looking back through all of our toddler books to find the ones that I bought for Grant about how God made the world. Hopefully, I can undo 30 minutes worth of muck that was inserted into her brain. (Heck, why are they watching videos the first week of school. Shouldn't he be teaching)?

After trying to piece everyone back together after the creationism vs. evolution debate, the kids went to video chat with Eric. I don't ever attend their chats. I just can't. Yesterday, Grant got upset about Eric making salsa for her. Today, I guess Eric told him that they were going to a ball game tonight. It completely put Grant over the edge. He came out of the office in tears and rewarded me with a troll-like, "NOTHING!" when I asked him what was wrong. Finally, after he cooled off, he just said that he wanted to get to do all of those things with Eric. The poor kid is harboring such deep feelings and I just don't know how to tap into them and I sure don't know what to tell him. He doesn't want to talk to a counselor (or anyone else). Heck, he hasn't even talked to me until the last couple of weeks. What do you tell an 11 year old boy that just wants to be with his dad?

So, tonight, I'm going to bed with a heavy heart for Grant. When all is said and done, it won't matter if the bank gives me my $800 dollars back or not (ok, maybe it will matter) but what really matters to me right now is making sure that Grant starts spewing some of what he's thinking. He's always been an old soul and tried to protect others' feelings at his own cost but this has reached a point of excess. I wish he was like Annie and I could just kiss it and make it better.

Ha. I just wish that would work for me, too.

Good night, all.

 

Addendum

In an attempt to calm myself down and allow myself the luxury of sleeping tonight, I'm going to sketch the last hour out for you.

• I check Dasha's agenda to see if she finished everything. She didn't.
• I call her back downstairs and ask her if she knows what was left incomplete.
• She does, indeed, know that she didn't finish part of her science homework.
• I ask her to do it and she simply says that she'll do it tomorrow before class.
• I tell her to sit down and completely it NOW! (Those definitely weren't the exact words I used).
• I begin looking through her binder to sign her agenda. I find ALL of the papers that I'd completed on Monday night. She didn't turn them in. I ask her why they are still in her agenda. Her answer was, "The teacher didn't ask me for them." I asked her if the other kids turned theirs in. She said they did but once again tells me that no one came to get hers or ask her personally to turn them in.
• I decided not to even go there. But, I thought she wasn't supposed to get a locker until I turned them in. ??? She came home today wearing her locker key around her neck. When I told her that if she lost it I have to pay $25 to get a new one, she just looked blankly at me. I'm thinking that she'll be without a locker in about a week and I'll be out $25!
• Then, as I'm zipping her binder back up, I feel stuff in the front pocket. Against my better judgement and my blood pressure, I unzipped it and looked inside. Yep. Lots of mechanical pencils and erasers. I sure didn't buy them! When I asked where they came from, she told me that kids gave them to her. I ask who those kids were and she couldn't tell me. I asked her if she traded for them. She said, "No."

I very vividly remember that group of therapists telling me that things would probably get worse in middle school. Are you kidding me? This is day four! By day 100, I'm going to need liquor and medication! Why does she steal? I buy her cute pencils and erasers because I know she's a clepto when it comes to those things and if she has her own unique stuff, it curtails the problem.  Is it the thrill? Is it the negative attention? I absolutely love that the therapists can't give me any definite answers. Absolutely no one wants to put a diagnosis on her! I seriously don't care what anyone calls it and I don't care that her issues ever get a formal diagnosis! I just want someone to tell me what to do! Punishing her doesn't work. Positive reinforcement doesn't work. Do I just give up and let the cards fall where they may and then end up in the security office at WalMart when she gets a five finger discount there?

Someone STOP this roller coaster, please!

Homework, Spoiled Salsa, and Kisses

Lucy: Some folks place their deck chair so they can see where they are going. Others place it so they can see where they have been. Still others place it so they can see where they are right now.

Charlie Brown: I can't even get mine unfolded!

Yep. That would be me tonight! I feel like one of those cartoon characters that sits down in the deck chair and it snaps shut around them.

What am I going to do with Dasha? The homework drama has begun. She doesn't see the importance of taking responsibility for her own stuff! Is it that she doesn't see it or won't see it or can't see it? How do I parent that? I'm worn out with her. I DON'T want to and CAN'T deal with it tonight. I still haven't figured out where the money came from in her room and today, I found out that she's paired up with the special needs girl from elementary school that she tried to "mother" and got into trouble with. You're telling me that out of three teams of kids that those two have to be together again? This may sound uncaring but on nights like tonight, I just don't think it's fair that I have to devote 99% of the little time I have with the kids to remediate her needs that she didn't take care of during the day. She's also hanging on one of her male teachers. I knew it was coming! I knew this would happen after how she responded to the guy at camp last month. How do I address it? Maybe I could say, "Dasha, you can't give hugs in middle school." Um, yeah. Don't think would work so well. There's a middle school dance next weekend and she told us that she wanted to go and wear the dress that she'd worn to the Daddy Daughter dance last Christmas. We tried to explain to her that this would be different but she just didn't get it. Then she mentioned that one of her teachers would be there. Nope. She just sealed the deal. She's NOT going! She lives in a Disney fairytale. I'm absolutely a proponent of every girl / woman being a princess but even princesses have to have a reality check every now and then and dang it! I'm just about ready to seriously CHECK her reality!

To add to the drama, Grant started the day in tears (I don't think he slept through the storms last night) and then burst out into tears when I snapped at him for stomping and huffing around the house. Finally, he told me that Daddy was making salsa for her. If you've never tasted Eric's salsa, you wouldn't understand. Grant said he felt like Daddy just gave away something special. This statement is quite in line with conversations that we've had over the last few nights that have opened my eyes to the extent to Grant's pain. What am I supposed to tell him? I tried to tell him that there were other special things that could never be shared but when he said, "Like what?" I couldn't really give him an answer other than love. That was received with a major snort. At that point, I felt like I was batting zero tonight.

Then, there's Annie. Sometimes, she is the glue that just holds me together. Other times, she the acetone that dissolves the glue! Tonight, she just walked around the house singing. She has this little elf voice and when you ask her what she's singing, she'll usually say, "I'm not singing!" Tonight's tunes included Wheels on the Bus and Twinkle Twinkle. My mom had to pick her up today because I was at school until after 5:00 and mom managed to bathe and feed her. So, when I got her home, all I had to do was play with her. That was a nice change. When I put her to bed, she read me her Dora Halloween book and then told me she wuved me and wrapped those little chubby arms around my neck and then brushed my bangs out of my face and gave me a sloppy kiss on the forehead - just like I do to her minus the sloppy part. Yep. That was my undoing. I couldn't get out of her room quick enough to make it to my bathroom and lose it.

All of the "why mes" started caving in around me and then the "what did the kids do to deserve this" and even the "what did I do bad enough that the kids are having to pay too?" thoughts piled on top of that. I have to admit that with my exhaustion from school this week and major sleep deprivation from last night's storms that roared through and turned my bed into a family landing pad, my coping skills are about null and void for emotions. However, the one thing I've learned is that it's much easier to climb out from under the rubble as soon as it caves in than to wait a few days and try to get out. By that point, you're just paralyzed and the climb is ten times harder. So, I gave myself a stern talking to and told myself to "cowboy up" and move on. I really don't like it when I have to talk to me like that but sometimes (most times), I'm the only one there!

So, I'm off to sort papers and find a show to watch. I'm am truly exhausted and overwhelmed with Dasha's shenanigans and the thought of having to deal with this for the rest of my life. I'm so burdened to know the pains and hurts that Grant is dragging around with him but doesn't feel the liberty to share for fear of upsetting me (or Eric). I just want to take a Mulligan on the last two years! Beam me up, Scotty - and while you're at it, beam up some clones to help me get everything done! This one handed business is beginning to get old! I never realized how important it was to be able to use your thumb! While my fingers are finally beginning to move enough to be able to grasp things, my thumb just won't. So, things like folding laundry and tying shoes have become more about me keeping my independence and dignity that actually getting any type of quality work done.

Anyway, enough whining. I'm off to finish paperwork and head to bed. Hopefully, I'll be the only habitat in my bed tonight and I won't have to share the covers!

Good night, all!

Chicken Noodle Soup Poopy, Edible Deodorant, and Swiper the Fox (or child)

Whew! I'm pooped! I always forget how much energy it takes to get a group of eight year olds familiar with new routines. I'm afraid if I sat still too long, I might just fall asleep right here!

Here's the low down on today...

I had to pry all three kids from bed this morning. I think Annie was the most unwilling participant. She's like one of those fainting goats that can just drop to the ground at a hint of drama. She simply went limp this morning as I tried to get her dressed. It's hard enough to do the job one handed but, dang! Trying to clothe a 30 pound sack of potatoes might register as hysterical to a game show host but at 6:00 a.m. to a mom, it's maddening! When I finally got her dressed, she took her shoes back off and said that she wanted to wear animal feet. I didn't even try to figure this out until this afternoon when she said it again. She wanted BEAR feet - not bare feet. Geez. I wish I'd gotten the joke this morning. A laugh might have saved one or two of my remaining nerves.

I finally got the kids out of the house without too much drama. Grant cried all the way to school because he says that he still hates middle school. Dasha told him that he needed to be friends with some of her "friends" and that just made him even more upset. She was just trying to help but it was just the wrong time! I finally freed myself of all three children and took on 21 more. However, the day went smoothly and was the best of the week, actually.

I managed to sneak out of the building at 3:30 to go pick everyone up from their appointed facilities. When I arrived to pick Annie up, I was greeted by three toddlers acting like dinosaurs and roaring at each other at the top of their lungs. I absolutely don't know how Fatima does it all day. She was actually smiling and laughing and playing along. Whatever! I grabbed Annie and RAN! Stupid of me, though. She kept roaring while strapped behind me in the car seat. Peaceful was not one of the top 100 words I would have used to describe my wait in car line today. However, the big kids piled in and seemed to have had a good day. I was relieved about this because I just didn't know if I would be able to endure another night of Grant's drama!

For a treat (for myself more than the kids), we stopped at Chick-fil-A. No sooner than we'd sat down, Annie assumed the position. Really? Assuming the position means she's going to take care of her business. When we're at home, she has a certain corner she goes to. She likes to wait until we're home but obviously, business couldn't wait for the special corner today! She sat down in the booth on her knees and curled up like a turtle. Then, the noises ensued. Come on now! I just wanted to eat my darn chicken sandwich and relish the thought of not having to wash pots, pans, or dishes. I thought about taking her outside to save the rest of the restaurant from her antics but the family behind us left so I just kept eating like there wasn't a grunting two year old balled up in the seat next to me! However, I almost choked on that stupid sandwich when Annie stood up and announced that she was finished with her raisin poopy. Why? Why? Why? And, let me tell you. The girl isn't quiet about anything. The entire Dwarf House heard her. Ok, so, since she's been so stopped up, I've commented once too often evidently that she either has rabbit poop or raisin poop. Hmmmm..... Strike one for mom. At this point, though, Grant and Dasha were laughing hysterically and Annie thought it was funny too. Then, she continued to describe her business with other descriptors. Her next shout out was, "I did chicken noodle soup poop!" I promise that I was trying to quiet her down and tell her that we don't talk about poop in restaurants. My undoing, though, was when she looked me square in the eye and said, "My poopy has sprinkles!" Come on, now! What two year old thinks of this stuff. I immediately gave Grant the evil eye because it sounding like something he might have coached her on and he immediately got defensive and claimed innocence. At this point, I gave up on finishing my dinner and packed up Annie's (she was too busy to eat) and headed everyone out the door. I admit that I didn't change her diaper until we got home and she was correct. It was raisin poopy! I never said she was dumb!

I have a ton of paperwork to deal with tonight so my plan was to put the girls down early so Grant could help me without having papers scattered everywhere by the girls. I got Dasha into the tub (no Nair tonight) and headed Annie to bed. I've become a big proponent of only bathing toddlers every third day. I'm sure there's some research out there that would support my belief. I believe it builds her immunity to germs and dirt. (I'll take any out I can get). However, even getting Annie into bed has become a circus in it's own rite. Annie no longer wants me to read to her. She wants to read to me. Most nights, it's cute and just makes me think she's brilliant. Other nights, I begin to wonder if her imagination is beginning to edge on psychotic! One night last week, she kept telling me to look toward her closet because Swiper was in there and going to get her paci. (Yeah, she still has it and might until she's 25). Tonight, she wanted me to sit in her lap so she could read a book to me. I tried in vain to reason with her but she wasn't going to give up. SO, I gingerly squatted over her lap (my quads are still burning) so I wouldn't smush her and awaited story time. She wanted to read this silly book called No No, Yes Yes. It's definitely one of her favorites. She flipped the pages and talked through each picture. When I do get to read to her, she doesn't like for you to actually read the words. She wants to discuss everything and talk about it. (Hmmm... sound like anyone you know - DADDY)? But, her commentary tonight about made me forget to hover over her and lose my balance and squash her.

Every time I've ever read this page to her, I tell her that it isn't nice to pull the cat's tail and that the baby should be gentle with the cat and use soft touches. Annie's version of these pages for tonight was that the baby was telling the kitty to get away from the dinosaur and that the dinosaur growled at the cat and scared it. Then, she pointed to the next picture and said that the kitty did what it was supposed to and the baby was happy. Um? Yikes. Imagination is a great thing but sometimes, she worries me! Whew! I did ask her where the dinosaur was and she put one finger over her mouth and said, "Shhhhh. It's over there" and pointed toward her bed. If she wakes up tonight saying there's a dinosaur under her bed scaring her, I'm throwing this book away! And, I promise you that if she tells me that she can see dead people like in that creepy movie, I'm never going to let her pretend ANYTHING again!

After making sure that Annie was sufficiently caged, oh, I mean tucked into her snugly covers, I went back to check on Dasha. She had indeed gotten a bath as I'd ask her and was sitting getting dressed. I don't allow her to close the door completely any more because of all of the drama we've had so I can also peek through the crack and see what's going on without her knowing. Tonight, when I peeked in, she was drying off and then grabbed her deodorant off of the shelf. At first, I was impressed. She's actually remembering to use it! Then, I stood horrified as I watched her bite into the top of it. It's the stick kind so she literally bit off a chunk. I threw the door opened and scared her to death. When I took the deodorant from her, I saw that there were multiple bite marks all over the top. How long has she been eating this stuff? Maybe I'll look back and find this humorous in a few days but it was just about my undoing tonight. How am I supposed to do long division with this child when she can't even be reasonable enough to not eat deodorant? There were so many ugly thoughts that ran through my head that I wanted to hurl at her but I don't think any of it would have helped. Once again, my frustration was mostly due to circumstances and not HER. I sent her on to bed. She said that she hadn't brushed her teeth. It was on the tip of my tongue to bite back at her and tell her that the deodorant would kill any germs and keep her breath fresh as a meadow but somehow, I managed to keep my mouth shut.

If that had been the end of it, maybe I wouldn't be sitting here with my heart pounding in my ears still. As I was signing agendas and making sure everything was ready for tomorrow, Grant ask me about ice cream money for school. We'd already decided that they'd get ice cream once a week. When I reminded him of this, he said, "Well, why did Dasha have ice cream today?" Crap. I don't know. Maybe it looked like deodorant! She didn't get money from me, though, so how did she pay for it? I hesitated whether I should even engage with her about it tonight but I was afraid that maybe she'd stolen the ice cream and would make the same attempt tomorrow. Basically, when I finally cooled down enough to reengage with her, I asked her if she got ice cream and she confirmed that she did. When I asked where she got the money, she pushed her glasses up on her nose. That's the number one indicator of guilt for Dasha and it's usually the one thing I don't want to see when I ask incriminating questions. After several rounds of interrogation, she finally said that she'd gotten the money from a bucket in her closet. What the heck?  Dang! If I'd known there was some sort of magical money bucket in the house, the last few months wouldn't have been so hard! Of course, I went looking for the bucket. It was a small metal pail filled with what I thought was just change. However, when I put the pail down on her bed and the change tipped to one side, I saw that there were some bills underneath. Huh? After dumping out the money and counting it, there was close to $7 in change and $15 in bills. I asked her in every way I could conceive about where she got the money and she never gave me an answer. What do I do now? I'm tired. I'm weary. I'm wondering what my future looks like. And, honestly, I'm not liking the whole situation. That was the last conversation I had with her before she went to sleep. I'm just too tired to handle anything else in an intelligent or loving manner.

So, I'm headed to finish grading a pile of papers about 12 inches tall and then going to crawl into bed (after locking up the deodorant, my purse, and any things Swiper might swipe from Annie's room, or dinosaurs might nab)! Tommorow is another day.

Good night, all!

Dasha's Men, Demanding Toddlers, and Nair Haircuts

OK, before I'd even rolled out of bed this morning... Well, let me back up a minute. I didn't ROLL out of bed. The alarm went off and I was so confused! I couldn't figure out what was going on. Then, it dawned on me and I kind of slithered out of bed. So, I should have said, "Before I'd even slithered out of bed this morning." Anyway, I grabbed my devotional book and WHAM! Here are the highlights from 5:20 this morning.

• Reality is in facing our circumstances and looking for the Lord to lead us through our difficulties.
• We will be remembered more for how we endured our difficulties than how we managed our blessings.
• God uses people who are weak and feeble enough to lean on Him.
• Tough faith does not grow in a comfortable mind.
• Protection against pain blunts our capacity to love.
• It is easy to find scapegoats for our difficulties, but these do not make us what we are - they only reveal what we are in our hearts and minds.

I admit that I kind of rolled my eyes this morning and kind of chuckled about the second point. If anyone had seen me last night, I would have surely been remembered but you would have remembered my mug shot on the 6 o'clock news!

While I am so glad to be back in the classroom with my students, getting the big kids plugged back in has been really hard. Grant isn't thrilled about his classes and Dasha just seems to think everything is a party. She has several male teachers this year and I can already tell that it's going to be challenging. She is SO driven by relationships. She wants to fit in and be accepted. (Why the heck does she eat glue sticks then)? She really craves attention from males right now and that's scary. Each afternoon, she's come home and told me nearly every anecdotal story that her male teachers have told in class. I've asked her about her other classes and she can't really tell me anything other than one teacher gave her candy. I'm holding my breath to see how it all plays out but the "what ifs" are running rampant right now. I've always known her teachers and really everyone that she interacts with. What if some creep comes into her life and... I don't want to go there. She just doesn't get it. Her social boundaries are nearly null and void and she'd go anywhere and do anything with just about anyone - especially right now! So, while I'm dealing with the "what ifs" with Dasha, Grant is in mega pout mode about everything. The worst part is that he knows how to push my buttons big time. When he didn't get the response he wanted from me about not having familiar faces in his classes, he started ramping up the story and upping the ante. The story then morphed to a tale of someone smashing his finger into a locker. I don't want to be nominated for another Mom of the Year award for not hearing his pain (remember the undiagnosed broken arm that I told him to 'get over')? but I never know if he's just trying to get my sympathy or if there's really a problem. I guess if he comes home tomorrow with a broken finger I'll know that it's a real problem.

I picked the kids up in car line today which worked better for me. I left school, picked Annie up, and headed to grab my position in the never ending car line. Annie decided to unbuckle herself as we waited. I was mildy ok with this because she crawled to the back of the van and counted the buses as they rolled past. I sat still and quiet as the van idled for the first time all day.

The problem came when I told her to climb back into her seat. She had a pretty strong opinion on the matter and it was, "NO!" Crap! I'd just gotten comfortable and I didn't expect the car line to move so quick! At our school, we're lucky if we get all of the car riders out of the building in an hour this week. Grant said it was a little different at the middle school. He said you basically pick out a nice car you like with someone nice looking driving and jump in. (I'm not sure why he decided to get in the white minivan with me). Maybe we should try this method tomorrow for elementary car line. Hmmmm.... That would be interesting! I still like the buy one get one free method of doing car line! :) Anyway, Annie pitched a fit but finally crawled back into her seat and buckled herself in. However, she buckled everything in backwards and pretty much trapped herself - arms and all - in her seat. Poor Grant had to untangle her and she rewarded his kindness by screaming all the way home! Never mind my nice peaceful drive home.

Mom and dad were nice enough to bring dinner by. Everyone ate except Annie. Perfect. At that point, I was left with a dilemma. Do I just put her to bed hungry and risk her getting up a million times during the night or risk becoming a short order cook and fix her something different. Finally, I asked her if she wanted something to eat. She said, "Mac n cheese." When I told her that I didn't have any (ok, maybe I just didn't want to MAKE any), she said, "Go get some!" Seriously? Grant was sitting right there and heard her. Poor Grant scrambled to get under the radar before I flipped my lid at the audaciousness of this two year old! She ended up with a muffin and milk but was put to bed pretty quickly after the nut started making grocery store demands!

After I got Annie to bed, I told Dasha to go and get a bath. I assumed this was a task she could handle. I headed to my room to get my clothes ready for tomorrow. Then, I heard Grant scream. It was an uncatergorized scream. Not a "bloody murder I'm dying" kind of scream and not a "there's a boogey man in my room" scream. I ran down the hallway to see Grant with his eyes squeezed shut and Dasha standing naked in the hallway. Come on now! We've had this discussion a million times! If your underwear covers it, don't let anyone see it! Is that really all that hard? After checking to see that Grant hadn't been blinded for life, I tried to figure out why Dasha was roaming the hall in her birthday suit. She said that I'd told her that I would take care of her underarms. Maybe this is TMI but what do you do with a 13 year old who has braidable arm pit hair but can't wield a razor safely? My choices have been to shave her pits myself or use Nair. After tonight's drama, I opted for Nair. I didn't think I was too safe with a razor! So, as usual, I smeared the goo on her and left her sitting in the tub to start washing her hair. When I went back to help scrub the goo off, I realized that we had a little problem. As Dasha wiggled around washing her hair, she'd gotten Nair on her head hair! Man! So, she now has an uneven hair line because her hair was Nair-d. Perfect. I cant' wait to hear what she tells her teachers tomorrow!

Tonight, I just want to collapse into bed and that's what I'm about to do! I finished filling out all of the kids' paperwork before dinner so I could be selfish and steal the last 15 minutes of the day's silence for myself!

Goodnight, all!

Glue Eating, Walking on Water, and Erasing Pages

I'm too tired to even write in complete sentences. I'm thinking about setting the alarm on my phone and simply letting my head fall right onto the keyboard and sleeping right here! Wow! The sheer anticipation of today's excitement just wears you out. So, here's how the last 24 hours unfolded...

8:00 p.m. - I put Annie down to sleep but she had other ideas and decided to read to herself. I have to admit that I just sat next to the monitor in my room and listened for a bit. It's enchanting. The book starts off, "Once upon a time..." and then she rambles on in some foreign language and when she comes to the end, she sighs and says, "And they all be happy. The end!" At that point, she slams the book shut and giggles. This was cute the first, second, and even third times she did it but by 9:00, I had to intervene. She wasn't happy.

9:30 p.m. - Dasha is caught eating a glue stick. The whole thing. Not a nibble. Not a little lick. The whole dang thing! I didn't have patience to try and reason with her so I simply asked her if she'd like some paper to go with the glue for a bed time snack.

9:45 p.m. - Grant decided that he wants to spill his soul. Really? I'm beginning to think that all of his emotions are directly linked to his ability to procrastinate. He doesn't seem to want to get all up close and personal until I'm demanding that he go to sleep.

10:00 p.m. - Annie decided that sleep is not part of her plan for the night. I hear her glow worm toy playing music which also means that it's little light is glowing. Then, I hear her begin to read another book. Ugh. Once again, I was the evil troll and took her books away and put her back to bed.

10:30 p.m. - I'm ironing my clothes when Grant comes back to my room to say his stomach hurts. If this had been Dasha, I wouldn't have thought twice. Heck, glue would make anyone's stomach a little icky. Grant's tummy ache was 50% nerves and 50% procrastination. I told him to take a Tums.

11:00 p.m. - I crawled in bed and thought I was done for the night. I'd even taken book bags to the van and loaded everything I could so we wouldn't have any chance of drama and could get out of the house by 6:15 a.m. Ha.

11:30 p.m. - Grant is back. I'm not sure what I told him but the ending was him in my bed. He's not a good bed buddy. He was exhausted and nervous so he spent all night talking and fighting battles in his sleep. I was ready to shove him off the side of the bed and let him fight the dust bunnies instead of those imaginary evils!

12:15 a.m. - Thump! Annie fell out of the bed - again! She's had this bed for several months now and this hasn't been a problem. What in the world? Obviously, she didn't just fall out and say, "Gee, let me quietly crawl back into my bed!" The minute she hit the floor (8 inches down), she started wailing like a siren! Really? It took me quite a while to calm her down and get her back to bed.

5:30 a.m. - Everyone was up and getting ready - expect Annie. She refused to get up and kept wrapping her blanket around herself and saying, "I seepy. I wanna seep!" Perfect. Just the battle I wanted to do.

6:20 a.m. - Everyone was loaded up and ready to roll. On the way to school, I questioned Dasha about her bedtime snack and she said she felt fine. Hmmm... I swear that she's a goat!

So, enough with all of the details. I know. Basically, I got everyone dropped off where they needed to be and made it to my classroom by 7:00. My students arrived and were all so sweet. Some had that "deer in headlights" look for the majority of the day, though. Third grade is the delineating grade between primary and upper. Third graders live upstairs so this was a really big deal to some kids. However, they were all troopers and made it through the day unscathed. Most of us were exhausted by lunch time, though, and wanted to have nap time. I need to see when kindergarteners nap so I can crash their party and get a little siesta, too!

The big kids rode the bus back to my school this afternoon so that didn't put them with me until almost 4:30. They were really zapped! When I finally wrangled everyone to the van, the glue stick eater rambled on about what a marvelous day she had while Grant stoically sat and held back tears. Honestly, I didn't even try to open his flood gates because of my own exhaustion and after picking Annie up, she decided to scream all the way across town that she didn't want to sit in her seat anymore. I just didn't have time to hear any negativity.  Don't worry, when we got home, I did question Grant about his day and he just blew up and said that he didn't know anyone in any of his classes. I don't know what to tell him other than he'll get to make new friends. Poor baby. I feel like he thinks life just stinks right now.

Thank goodness, some old family friends dropped dinner off. I didn't realize what a life saver that would be! The kids gorged themselves and I watched happily knowing that I wouldn't have to clean up pots or pans and that I hadn't had to cook! What a blessing! My dream is that one day, I'll have the luxury of paying forward all of the wonderful things that have been done for us over the last few months and I'll definitely remember meals for teachers on the first day of school! Whew!

After dinner, I started signing county forms for the big kids. I seriously don't know how many times I signed my name and, heck, honestly, I don't even know what I signed. The only things that really stuck out were one line to sign if your child could watch a PG-13 movie at school. Um, NO! They can't watch them at home (usually). The other form was about sex ed. Geez. At what point do I check, "yes," on Dasha's form? Grant knows it all so I'm not too worried about him but Dasha still plays with Polly Pockets and Barbies and prefers to watch Dora over some other age appropriate things. However, she's got all of the "makings" of a real woman. Ugh. Decisions, decisions. For today, I went with NO. Maybe I'll tell her about sex in about ten years. Maybe.

So, that leads me up to 10:15. I'm exhausted. Everyone is upstairs and in bed. I don't hear Annie reading or her springs squeaking so I'm assuming she's asleep, too! I really like the few years that we had the first day of school on Friday and then we had the weekend to recuperate and could start fresh on Monday with "real school" and not "let's all be happy and get to know one another" kind of stuff!

With exhaustion, I'm learning that my emotions are like a roller coaster. Yesterday, I did work some of the counselor's notebook so I still feel a little banged up from that, too. The commentary was about how Peter wanted Jesus to rescue him. When assistance was offered, Peter headed toward Jesus to get out of the waves but once Jesus had him, He walked him right back to the row boat. Jesus met the disciples in their situation. He didn't remove them from it. Crap. This isn't the kind of stuff I want to think about or even put into practice. I don't like this situation and I surely don't want to be stuck here. I want a magic lamp with a genie that will just zap me into some Disney fairy tale (one without a wicked witch, please). But, the point of the lesson was simply that as our faith turns dreams of deliverance into acts of obedience, God fulfills His promises. However much I disliked the reality of this lesson, it struck a chord with me and I've really sort of rested in this all day today. I got thrown a couple of curve balls this afternoon that could have really sent me over the edge but I managed to keep my mouth shut (wonder of all wonders) and know that I'm not the judge nor jury and that the only thing that matters right now is my obedience. That is SO hard to embrace sometimes! Striking back and throwing our assumptions and daggers is much easier. Once again, I find myself thinking about having to let God rewrite part of the story of my life that I'd already filled in. I don't like the feeling of that eraser on the pages but I know it's for my best.

That being said, I'm going to bed! I'm not spelling checking this or rereading it. It is what it is and I'm tired.

Good night, all!