That's 0% Funny

I think most of us have experienced this. If not as a parent, at least as a child. You're trapped in a small enclosed space with your worst enemy (a sibling). It's a road trip. And it doesn't matter if they are trying to bug you or not -- they BUG you. At some point during the trip, you will hear someone say, "MO-OM! SHE'S LOOKING AT ME!"

We had a similar experience recently. We were in the car, which is much more crowded than the van. We were on a short trip... just to church. Lou and QB were rubbing elbows -- literally -- and that is NOT a good thing. Lou was tired and not in the mood to be trifled with, plus he was going to church -- not his favorite.

After the usually bickering about which seatbelt belonged to whom and who was touching whom(to which, of course, I had wisely replied, "Keep your hands to yourselves"), QB committed one final crime which could not be tolerated in even the worst of torture chambers:

"MO-OM!!! Her doll is LOOKING at me!"

Well, I'm sorry, but it was so funny I just had to laugh. I mean, her doll? That was one I had never heard. However, my laughing was also not to be tolerated (I probably did overdo it a bit-- but, dang it, that was funny!).

In utter exasperation, Lou turned his anger on me, "MOM, THAT IS ZERO PER CENT FUNNY!"

End of an Era

Yeah, that's right. School is out. Eighth graders have moved on. I have three days left to be at work, and I will have officially completed my first year at the new school. Put the kids out in the wading pool for the first time of the season today. I have all my grading done, so the only thing left to do is plan for the summer vacation.

First thing on the agenda is to go pick up our new puppy. We acquired her at the end of March, but left her with family until we could be home with her full time for training purposes. We'll do that next weekend. Should be an adventure... and I must admit I'm a little nervous. I haven't had to train a puppy for thirteen years.

Next thing will be to switch the kids' rooms and put the baby in his toddler bed. That usually requires my complete attention and all my energy for a few days. However, yesterday at nap time he climbed out of his crib, dumped a whole shelf of videos on the floor, crawled back into his crib and went to sleep without anyone noticing. I think he's ready to handle the responsibility.

With the switching rooms two new paint jobs are required. Anybody up for some painting? The boys (for some strange reason) refuse to sleep in a pink room. And as long as we're talking about painting, I have about half a dozen murals to finish too. I find it's much more amusing to paint with company than by myself (hint-hint).

Aside from that, I'd like to lose about 50 pounds. So obviously, I'm not expecting much from my summer. How about you?

I Was Wrong

... it's the paperwork.

Occupational Hazard

I've had a day.

Scratch that.
I've had a week.

I realized today that being an English teacher is far too risky for us non-confrontational types. No matter what I have on my bookshelves someone is going to complain about it. I may as well fill the shelf with Dr. Seuss and Mother Goose. Perhaps those are benign enough not to raise eyebrows.

Forget about how much more paperwork English teachers naturally incur. Forget about the widely varied curriculum we have to cover. Forget about the absolutely execrable essays we have to read on a daily basis. Forget about the behavior issues even. The worst thing about teaching English -- bar none -- is the ridiculously over-sensitive people who cannot, for the life of them, take responsibility for what their own children CHOOSE to read, so they have to blame the teacher.

At least that's how I'm feeling today... tomorrow I may think it's the paperwork.

You're a Beaut!

Leave it to Lou to brighten my day...

On Monday I was wearing a black shirt and black pants with a bright pink blouse over the top. When I got home from work, I was bombarded by a messy baby, so I took off my blouse and draped it over the ledge by the stairs. As I was walking out into the hallway, Lou was coming up the stairs. He saw my shirt lying there, so he picked it up and handed it to me. "You look great in this, Mom. Put it back on." I did. Then he said with a smile, "You're a beaut!"

For a second I thought, "What does he mean by that? Do I look bad in just my black pants and t-shirt?" Then I realized -- he's six. If he thinks I look bad, he just tells me. I don't have to read his mind.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS!?

I'm a beaut! :)