stuff my kids will dicuss in therapy
The Magic of Christmas
Dec 16th
Once again blogging has taken a back seat to insanity. I have been writing but unfortunately it’s all the kind of stuff that would have me arrested. Fortunately, the insanity defense is all in place and if you read regularly, you may be called as a witness. As a matter of fact if you continue reading today you may be called as a witness.
A few things have happened over the past few days and my stress level is once again out of control.
Here are some highlights.
Saturday Dec 12th.
After an altercation at the Burger King drive thru, that led me to coin the phrase “Don’t make me go all Onion Ring Sauce on you,” I came up with the most awesome idea ever for my first book (I can’t tell what the idea is just yet. Now you have to keep coming back! Muahahaha!) I immediately emailed almost everyone I know.
I then waited patiently for the immediate shower of praise. After ten minutes had passed, I began texting almost everyone I know to please check their email. Feeling neglected I watched The Wedding Singer (I couldn’t find the remote control) and kept myself entertained on commercials refreshing my email just in case anyone was actually at home on a Saturday night to praise my genius.
Sunday Dec 13th.
I woke up with no heat. While waiting 8 hours, hoping that by putting my space heater underneath the comforter I was wrapped in would catch it on fire so I could get warm (it was the coldest day yet this winter), for maintenance to arrive (they will not come in unless I am here because of how often I am seen trying to catch my runaway dog), I redid my blog layout.
I loved the previous layout but instead of “reply” in the comments section it said “replay” and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I am also cheap, technically incompetent and obsessive compulsive. If you were here on Sunday you might have noticed my obsessive compulsive behavior went on for the entire eight hours.
After the heat was fixed, I took the children to see Santa, where I thoroughly embarrassed them and their Dad by informing Santa’s elf that I would not be paying such outrageous prices for an imperfect picture. Luckily we take them to Willow Lawn (if you are in Richmond you know that Willow Lawn is the only mall on the planet that can afford to stay open with just an Old Navy, a Chick-Fil-A and a bunch of “we’ve moved” storefront banners). Because Chick-Fil-A is closed on Sunday, there were only three mall shoppers and Santa had more than enough time to let me reposition him and my children until I was satisfied.
Thank goodness I was on such a huge “good customer service” high because we then went to dinner and were seated next to a very rowdy party of thirteen. Because I am used to being the loudest table in a restaurant and I cannot tolerate rudeness (in others) I yelled “WHAT?! I DIDN’T HEAR YOU!” at the top of my lungs, at regular intervals throughout dinner. Once again causing my family to bow their red faces in shame.
Monday Dec 14th.
I realized it was the first day of Christmas and quickly put on my anal retentive hat. I was not able to finish my blog design (yes, I am still working on it) because I was looking for the perfect graphics to post my ideal plan for the twelve days of Christmas.
I was soon distracted by making my own Southpark character and Garbage Pail Kid.
My list, however, did get done and I was able to make my very first Wassail and teach the kids how creatively expletives could be used, while my ex drank the Wassail and watched me put the tree together. Apparently he never knew that the tree we had for ten years had to be put together and was not pre-lit (this and the account of our Sunday family fun night should begin to answer the question “why don’t you guys just get back together?” that I get everyday.)
Tuesday Dec 15th.
Because the holidays bring out the best in me, I was able to display my compulsive character once again. Mostly by ignoring any signs that said “handicapped parking” (I am clinically insane which is obviously a handicap) or “20 items or less” (nine over doesn’t matter when the cashier can’t count in the first place), but also by planning my daughter’s second grade holiday party.
Thankfully, lots of parents signed up to bring things and most of them even provided me with a correct phone number (to the parent who thinks I believe you are at Santa’s Workshop, I don’t need Martha Stuart to make a Christmas in the Big House special to figure out how to make a shiv out of a candy cane. I’m very creative, and now very excited to have a craft idea for the party.)
Because I was feeling the magic of the season, Wednesday was able to convince me that we should attend the PTA holiday concert, and that even though only the fourth and fifth graders were performing, she needed a Christmas dress for the event. This led to a couple hours of bonding (Mommy Dearest style, “We might be able to find a dress made from burlap to make the potato sack look complete. Stand up straight.”) over the clearance rack at Target and a new house rule. Some garbage about putting quarters in a jar for every bad word I say (not gonna fucking happen!).
She did look beautiful in her red satin dress covered in black lace and rhinestones, with patent flats, glittery tights and satin rose covered headband, which I bought for no apparent reason!
I also realized what a giving child she is when she looked at me with proud respect after I told her brother that I had given all of the Little Debbie Christmas Tree Cakes to needy children.
After the concert, and good laugh over watching MC Bizzy J try to crawl out from under a toppled Christmas tree (I am not buying another one before Christmas. The silver duct tape base is actually very festive) we sat down to begin reading The Best Christmas Pageant Ever.
So you see I have finally gotten into the holiday spirit. Even though I will be busy making magic happen, and the stress of it might cause me to be a little busy with important tasks like, poking the dog with a broom to make sure she isn’t dead (twice today) and sticking my hand in the oven to make sure I turned it off (every ten minutes for the last hour and a half), I will try to be a little better about posting regularly.
My Wish List
Dec 11th
I’m almost back on track for getting into the spirit of the season. It’s really now or never.
Unless, I can trick my kids into thinking it’s only November.
I don’t think it’s going to work and I think I will blame that on the SOL’s. Or maybe Tiger Woods.
No, it’s definitely Jeff Dunham’s fault that I can’t put Christmas off for one more week. Which is one more reason to hate him but doesn’t solve my problem.
Because I don’t think they will believe that Santa lost his keys, “you know just like Mommy does every morning on the way to school. I’m sure he will be here any minute” I have to get started on my Christmas shopping.
I’m at a total loss for what to get anybody this year. I think this means that everyone I know, including my kids, are spoiled rotten and have too much shit.
But it’s Christmas. It’s a time for giving (or having a nervous breakdown when you try to make a “quick stop” for laundry detergent because you forgot that as far as charity and goodwill go all bets are off at Target in December. There, and the Amazon page for Zhu Zhu pets, are proof enough for me of the Lord’s forgiveness.)
Maybe it would be easier to start with my own wish list.
Because I’m pretty certain that a 22 year old boy toy, who loves to do dishes and thinks that I am queen of the universe, thereby keeping respectfully quiet at all times, is not going to fit in my stocking (I’ve got a six-foot minimum. Beggars can be choosers. They can also spend Saturday nights eating dry cereal and dancing with their dog), I was still having trouble.
So I was back to blog stalking, where I came across Mim’s post about knitting her first pair of socks. Mim has this great energy that will motivate anyone, so her blog seemed the perfect place to go for some holiday cheer. I also love her artwork (really if you ever talk to her, it is impossible not to love whatever she does). It’s freezing here right now so not only did I want her to immediately make me five pairs of socks to wear right now but her cozy looking mitts led me to her etsy shop, Fritzi.
I am a child of the 80’s, so fingerless gloves are a must have accessory, but I have refrained from neon purple lace ones (the sacrifices I make to not embarrass my kids!). Also, because I quit smoking this year and can finally keep a pair of gloves for more than a week without them smelling like an ashtray I have decided to put these on my list.
I am also emailing the link to my kids Dad. I’m pretty easy to please but you only need so many keychains made by a three year old (I almost died in child birth, for God’s sake!) and I know I’m repeating myself but I quit smoking, so the traditional carton of cigarettes will not be there to fill my stocking. Santa can also cut down on the number of airplane bottles since there are no more holiday visits to the in-laws.
Cut down, not out. I still have to work.
The Winner is…Whatever I Say
Nov 30th
A few weeks ago I decided that I should pick out blog nicknames for my kids. I need to be prepared in case Straitjackets are Slimming becomes an internet phenomenon (expected any day now), and at some point my children are going to object to me sharing their most embarrassing stories. While I am pretty ridiculously entertaining all by myself, they are definitely the stars of my life.
My plan is to use these names from now on and to eventually go back through old posts and change them. Editing old posts is something I’ve been wanting to do anyway. I’ve read lots of different reasons for leaving them as they are but those reasons don’t apply to me.
The best thing about blogging is this is my blog, my rules. It’s the only place in the whole world where I have total and complete control.
Because I have a problem with indecision I asked my readers to help out by voting on their favorite choices in a poll. I quickly discovered that my readers aren’t into voting on polls. I did tell Savannah about the choices (she is only allowed to read selected blog posts. I do make some decent parenting decisions) and told her that she could vote as many times as she wanted. She choose Wednesday and Puglsey and, big surprise, her choice beat out the others by a vast majority.
So the official winners are Wednesday and MC Bizzy J (it fits way better than Pugsley, my rules).
I am also reserving the right to change them whenever I see fit. To help keep things clear (I know it can get a little confusing around here) one day this week I will add a bio page for the kids, that will include all of their blog handles.
I’m a Survivor
Nov 25th
For the full effect of this post, imagine it being told in a hurried, terrified whisper. Kind of like in the Blair Witch Project, but instead of the streaming snot, imagine traces of blue magic marker mustache, not so washable right after a chemical peel.
I’ve almost made it. It’s been two days. Right now I’m sitting in the dark typing as gently as I can, hoping that the pets don’t decide to come out of their hiding spot in the closet just now (also hoping that the cats came out long enough in the middle of the night to use the catbox because I don’t think cat pee comes out of Christmas decorations). Any noise could wake him up.
I told you a couple days ago I decided to keep Jackson home from daycare all week. Never again.
When Savannah was his age I was such a type A mommy. We could go for nature walks, and make crafts out of the beautiful things we found. We could color and play with dolls. She helped me around the house or we sang and danced together. We read books and snuggled. That was life with a preschool girl.
Things have changed. Boys are different.
Our nature walk turned into a sword fight, where I almost lost an eye, while begging for Jackson to put the stick (four-foot tree branch) he found down. Craft time was cut short when Jackson decided that we would do a totally “green” project, pulling a few extra supplies right out of the kitchen trash can. Coloring led to Mommy dozing on the couch (thus the blue mustache), and instead of dolls we played sideshow freaks where both Jackson and the dog were the amazing tattooed wonders. Making a spaghetti lunch turned into being asked to turn the burner on the gas stove on and off no less than 20 times, so my little angel could “see fire,” forcing me to open all the windows in the house. The stalkerish neighbor children were in school, so no one thought anything of the banshee like screams coming from our apartment, no one noticed the blood red tomato sauce splattered all over the walls.
There was no one to save me.
We did have story time last night. Thank goodness, Savannah is so independent and such a big help with her baby brother. I suspect she picked up the story after I passed out on Jackson’s bedroom floor at 7:15.
Around 2:30am I was able to sneak into my bedroom only to wake up an hour later and discover a sweaty little face smashed right against mine and two suprisingly strong little arms in a death grip around my neck. I tried to get away but that sleepy little voice “I just wanna ‘nuggle you” warned me to lie still, playing dead. Eventually, his grip loosened and I was able to escape.
I know he will wake up soon but I am strong. I can make it one more day.
**Tomorrow I’m going to close the “nickname my kids” poll. Just in case you’re new here, this is what it’s all about.**
Not the Best Plan
Nov 23rd
I have the most awesome single Mom schedule ever!
Thursday morning I drop the kids off at school come home and dress 
up like Azrael from Goth Talk (my work dress code is all black, which is not something I can pull off, without feeling ridiculous), throw a ten minute temper tantrum because I don’t want to go, then dry my eyes and face the fact that I have to. I work Thursday, Friday and Saturday while the kids are at their dad’s house. While I don’t think work should ever be stressful, lately by the end of the work day I usually want to punch someone in the face. It’s great being able to come home and relax alone, that’s just not a healthy environment for kids.
Sunday, I pick up my kids from their Dad’s anytime between 9 and noon. Most Sundays we all four do something as a family.
Sunday afternoon I start my stay at home mom half of the week. Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, I take my daughter to school and my son to preschool, by 8 am I’m back home and have a few hours to do a few haircuts, help out at one of their schools, write or just do house stuff and errands (I’d rather poke my eyes out).
My daughter is out of school at 2 in the afternoon, and because Jackson’s nap is a little later, her and I usually spend a few hours just the two us. Most of that time I spend trying to convince her to do her homework. I love Jackson’s preschool and so does he. I never feel guilty if I decide to take Savannah to a museum or somewhere else that Jackson would decimate, leaving him at daycare a little later. All that extra alone time is good for Savannah and me right now. We have always butted heads and the years when she hates everything, especially her Mom, are fast approaching.
Already, a lot of afternoons she asks me to pick Jackson up early so they can play. Even though she and her baby brother are super close (I’m so lucky), she still gets jealous of all the attention he gets. He is super cute, but he is a three-year-old boy. I am always amazed at the way strangers reward little boys bad behavior. He might be “all boy” but I know that he can restrain himself from tossing a carton of eggs out of the grocery cart and poor Savannah, who was very helpfully crossing things off the list, has to deal with a very tense Mommy for the rest of the night.
This week I have decided to spend a little alone time with Jackson, I took him out of preschool for the whole week. I don’t have a lot of confidence that it’s going to go very well. Savannah is already mad that she has to go to school when her brother doesn’t and no matter how much I try to hide it, I’m pretty afraid of her wrath.
I also just checked the weather and it’s supposed to rain until Wednesday. What in the hell do you do with a three year-old-boy, inside, for three days straight!?
It’s only three days. I can do it. I will survive this.
Do I Look Angry?
Nov 17th
Last night my kids were especially rowdy and defiant. Usually, they are pretty well behaved but, just like all kids, they have their days. To make matters worse, I was especially impatient. Usually, I am pretty tolerant but, just like all moms, I also have my days.
Some nights I can run downstairs and wash the dishes while they pick out their bedtime stories. Some nights I wouldn’t totally flip out if I were to come back upstairs and find both of their faces covered in magic marker even though they just took their baths (do other people’s kids do this?).
Last night was not one of those nights. I wish I could remember exactly what I said because apparently it was so terrifying that they were perfect angels for the rest of the night. I think one even called me Ma’am.
I am assuming it was a little left over fear that caused my daughter to look so nervous when, first thing this morning, I got right in her face and asked loudly “Do I look angry?”
Her quiet reply was “I don’t think so, Mommy.”
I wasn’t angry but I was trying to look angry.
That’s right! My botox has fully kicked in and it is amazing!
Unfortunately, I have given myself a terrible headache this morning. Because I’m the kind of person who cannot accept that there is something I can’t do, I have been staring at myself in the mirror, for the past two hours, trying to furrow my brow or squinch up my eyes. I can’t do it! I feel like I’m doing it but I’m not. Absolutely no lines! I don’t think that I was expecting to be this happy with the results.
Hopefully, I will get over my excitement soon because we have a PTA function tonight, and I have worked too hard, at not embarrassing my kids in front of their friends, to ruin it by excitedly suggesting a game of ”Guess what kind of face I’m making?” to a bunch strangers.
Alias
Nov 16th
I am halfway through my month of everyday posting. It has been a lot harder than I thought, the last two days I have cut it way too close for comfort. Saturday I didn’t hit publish post until 11:30 pm and, thank goodness, Sunday I was able to post minutes before my dog decided my laptop’s AC adaptor would make a delicious evening snack.
There are still a few things I would like to change about my blog. Most of them are design issues that I think are going to have to wait until I can afford a professional. I know exactly what I want the blog to look like and have wasted countless hours trying to figure them out myself.
One thing I can do on my own is to stop using my children’s real names. I fear, as my readership continues to expand, that any day now the paparazzi will start chasing my kids around and I will see them on the cover of US Weekly. Sorry to tell you, shutterbugs, but I will be the only one exploiting my children.
This is a big decision, here are a few ideas that I have had.
Wednesday and Pugsley. My daughter’s tendency to want to play “surgeon” instead of “doctor” and her fascination with all things morbid, and her brother’s desire to go along with anything she suggests no matter how dangerous make this brother and sister duo an obvious choice. You can expect heads to roll if the The Red Queen doesn’t get her way and The Mad Hatter’s favorite pastime is showing off his collection of helmets and headgear. Dr. Dolittle because of her overwhelming compassion for animals, they seem to love her as much as she loves them and Doc Holliday who can turn anything from a magic marker to our poor Jack Russell Terrier into a gun. After Judy Blume’s character Fudge (Farley Drexel Hatcher) the annoying baby brother, also due to a resemblance to the late great Chris Farley as a child, and Superstar obviously referring to Molly Shannon’s always overdramatic and always awkward character Mary Katherine Gallagher but also because she is drawn to anything sparkly. Katarina Minola (Kat), the “shrew” from Shakepeare’s taming of the shrew and Robin Goodfellow (Puck), the clever trickster from A Midsummer Nights Dream. Each of my them have already gone through the kind of identity crisis you don’t expect until the teenage years. Lady Dementia fell in love with Alice Cooper at an early age and would be happy if I let her wear black lipstick to 2nd grade and MC Bizzy J can often be heard saying things like “word” ”peace out, yo” and “yo, yo, yo babypop!”Take a minute to vote. I am welcoming suggestions and don’t mind mixing it up.
Bad Cop
Nov 15th
Early this afternoon I overheard a telephone conversation between Officer Jackson (now the only name my three-year-old will answer to) and one of his fellow “offishas”. I am happy to report that he has followed my example and finally quit “mokin cigettes” Apparently he is also using a patch, a Hannah Montana guitar sticker, obviously obtained from notorious “bad guy” Savannah. I was so excited to dicover that she had turned over a new leaf. Even though her only crime to date was “feet ‘mell like they drink drugs” she has been arrested and jailed several times this week.
Unfortunately, because of Officer Jackson’s erratic behavior this afternoon, I have to wonder if that patch was tainted somehow. Why else would an officer of the law wait until his mothers back was turned, pull down his pants in broad daylight and pee on his own, and his next door neighbor’s, patio?
Professional Spectator
Nov 14th
Today has been a very big day. Today one of my very best friends (meaning one of the very few people I can stand being around for more than ten minutes at a time) Meriel, ran her very first marathon. To me running a marathon is one of the biggest achievements of a persons life. It’s huge! I am so proud of her!
I wanted to show her how proud I am by being there to cheer her on the whole way.
To get ready for the race, last night, I spent two and a half hours plotting a detailed map of the marathon route, comparing Meriel’s running time to our travel time, including getting the kids in and out of the car. I also gathered up the noisemakers, charged the camera and called my ex, Ben, no less than 12 times, reminding him that we all had to be ready to go at 8am sharp.
Today, race day, things might have gotten a little out of hand.
7:00am Open my eyes to daylight, immediately freak because I never oversleep, jump out of bed, shower, and dress (in many layers of course, in case of cold or rain) 7:27am Call Ben to remind him to bundle the kids up. No answer. More panic. 7:29am Call Ben 6 more times, still no answer. 7:36am Check my bag 3 times to make sure I have noisemakers, camera, wallet and phone. Grab an extra whistle, just in case. 8:03am Arrive to pick up Ben and the kids. Run in the door, blow my whistle and jump around like a baboon. 8:05am Put extra sweatshirts under the kids coats, I don’t want them to get cold. Assure them I have extra noisemakers for them in the car. Grab a rubber chicken squeeky toy, just in case. 8:08am Thank Ben for making signs, even if they are a little small. 8:11am Ask bothe children 4 times if they need to go potty before we go. 8:20am Learn dollar store bag of noisemakers make no noise. Freak out again because there is nowhere to stop for more without getting stuck in traffic. 8:25am Arrive at the 4 mile marker with a plan to stop for more whistles before our next stop. 8:27am Take off the kids extra sweatshirts, it is too warm. 8:30am Embarrass Savannah and scare Jackson with maniacal cheering. 8:39am Terrified we’ve missed her, there are so many runners 8:43am Interrupted, by Meriel, in the middle of a “discussion” with Ben about how high to hold the sign with Ben. Thank goodness, she was not going to let us miss her. More maniacal cheering, right in her face. 9:05am While stuck in traffic on the way to our next stop realize we have left Bens travel coffee mug, that he had to put down to hold up his sign, on the sidewalk. Even though he asked me to remember it. 9:10am Give children candy to help get them pumped up. 9:21am Stop by Ben’s house because everyone does have to use the bathroom after all and to get another coffee. 9:42am Ben thinks I have missed my turn, I don’t think so but turn around anyway. 9:47am Turn around again, I knew I did not miss it. 9:55am Stop at railroad crossing to wait for the train. 9:59am Longest train ever, begin to panic. 10:06am Find a perfect parking spot at the 13 mile marker, pointed in the right direction to get to our next stop. Feeling better. 10:21am ”Discussion” with Ben about the easiest place to cross the street. 10:24am Maniacal cheering, with Savannah this time. Jackson is now embarrassed. More candy. 10:26am Savannah drops whistle in a puddle in the gutter. Wipe it off and try to give it back to her. Ben grabs it and suggests I calm down. 10:28am Consider running into CVS to get a “snack” (more whistles) but wallet is in the car. 10:29am Spot table with free clapping hands noisemakers and grab 7, almost knocking over a woman with a cane and a toddler. 10:34am Put Jackson on my shoulders and cheer maniacally while being hit in the face with free hand clapping noisemakers. 10:46am See Meriel running with her mom, SK, who jumped in to keep her company for a few miles (awesome!!). Start jumping up and down like a possessed baboon, whooping at the top of my lungs. 10:47am Hold up signs so SK can get pictures, all the while yelling “WHOOOO! RUN! MERIEL!” right in her face while she stood there looking confused about why she was stopping. 10:48am Yell “WHOO! KEEP GOING! WHOO! RUN!” while SK assured her she would catch up after taking our pictures (my kids are that cute) 10:53am Inform my family that the fun is over, its time to get serious. Our next two stops are close together and we have no time to spare. 10:55am Another “discussion” with Ben about where to cross the street. 10:56am Let family know that I am sweating, hoping that tearing off my sweatshirt, hulk style, will remind them not to irritate me when I am too hot. It doesn’t work. 10:57am Jackson is ready to go home and Savannah is hungry. 10:58am Remind them that “fun time is over, we’ve got to hustle” 11:03am Realize we have left another coffee travel mug that I was supposed to remember on the street. 11:07am “Discussion” about which toll lane I should be in and when I should turn on my blinkers. 11:08am Remind Ben that I drive every day and usually do fine with no help. 11:09am Take the wrong exit off the interstate, turn around and take the wrong exit back on, taking us right back where we were. 11:14am Sadly give up on stopping at mile 17, but relax because we have plenty of time to get to mile 20. 11:16am Ben mentions the speed limit on the exit ramp. 11:17am Fit of turrets that causes me to miss another turn. 11:18am Illegal U-turn 11:19am Reprimanded by ungrateful children. 11:20am More turrets. Miss exit again. 11:35am Stop at Ben’s, which he tricked me into believing was on the way, for more coffee, snacks and another potty break. Jackson falls asleep in the car. 11:45am Find perfect parking spot in a fast food parking lot. Ben thinks we will be towed. He is wrong but I move the car, proving that I am better and smarter and more generous. 11:48am Wake Jackson and immediately shove M&Ms in his mouth. We don’t have time for crabby three year olds. 11:52am Give a few free hand clapping noisemakers to some little girls holding a sign that says “Go, Daddy, Go.” So cute, but my kids cheer louder. 11:55am Maniacal cheering, with both children. 12:01pm Start to get nervous we have missed her. 12:11pm See Meriel and SK, who ran with her daughter for 9 miles to keep her company during the race (what a great Mom!), once again jump around like a possessed baboon, whooping at the top of my lungs. 12:15am Go back to the car, take away all noisemakers, including the rubber chicken and throw them in the trunk to help allieviate the road rage. 12:23am Miss the toll basket causing them alarm to sound. 12:24pm Reprimanded by ungrateful children and ungrateful ex. Road rage was not alleviated. 12:29pm Pull into parking deck where I can’t figure out how to get a ticket. Is there such a thing as parking garage rage? 12:32pm Try to decide whether I should hit an Escalade or the brick wall in order to fit in my enormous gas guzzler into a tiny parking spot. 12:35pm Whole family climbs out on the passenger side because I have parked 2 inches from the brick wall. 12:43pm Make an emergency stop for both children at the port a potties. They have miraculously developed a sudden ability to hold it when they walk in and learn what happens to peoples stomachs after running 26.2 miles. 12:47pm See family members in the crowd, including my first cousin Lewis (also Meriel’s first cousin, so we are kind of related but I don’t know what you call it. Cousins-in-law?) who finished the marathon in 3 hours 8 minutes and 58 seconds, qualifying for the Boston marathon! Fortunately, I am paralyzed with fear that I am going to miss Meriel crossing the finish line, so I don’t do my baboon impression. 12:49pm Abrubtly stop chit chat and drag my children by their wrists through the crowd to get a spot close to the finish line, shouting at Ben to catch up. 12:52pm Get situated in a perfect spot by gently nudging a couple of small children out of the way. 12:53pm Maniacal Cheering. 12:55pm See a better, less crowded spot on the other side of the street. 12:56pm Grab Savannah by the shoulders and use her to bulldoze through the crowd before anyone else gets that spot. Loudly suggest to Ben that he should pick up the pace. 1:00pm Wait, so I don’t get in the way of a woman taking a picture of her daughter who just finished the race. 1:01pm Remind myself how impressed I am that this girl just ran 26.2 miles in order control my strong compulsion to grab the camera and throw it on the ground. She is taking up the whole sidewalk!! 1:02pm That lady dodged a bullet. 1:06pm Arrive in the perfect spot and began cheering maniacally. 1:09pm Begin fearing I have missed her again. 1:11pm Turn around to discover SK is standing right next to us. Relieved we haven’t missed Meriel. 1:17pm SK spots Meriel in the distance. Get cameras ready. 1:19pm Turns out it is not Meriel but woman who might be twice my age. Try to get a picture of her to show Meriel who her mom mistook for her. Her reaction will be funny. 1:21 pm Maniacal Cheering 1:25pm Begin to panic that Meriel has injured herself since the 20 mile mark. 1:26pm Finally see Meriel. 1:28pm Try to take pictures of her crossing the finish line while jumping up and down like a possessed baboon and whooping at the top of my lungs.Meriel finished her first marathon in 5 hours, 28 minutes, 10 seconds.
At lunch I learned that this was also my cousin Lewis’ first marathon (it seems like he has been a serious runner since he first learned to walk, so I just assumed it wasn’t the first). When I was not able to use my “indoor voice” to control my enthusiasm it dawned on me that maybe I was wound a little too tight today.
Finally, I would like to say congratulations to everyone who ran the Richmond marathon and the Richmond half marathon today. I saw a lot of familiar faces and I was rooting for all of you. Even the ones who looked the other way and pretended not to know me, I understand.
Geography
Nov 10th
Every once in a while I like to help out in my kids classrooms. I really enjoy getting to know all of their friends so I can put faces and personalities to the stories I hear. I have always said I’ll do it as long as they aren’t embarassed by me.
I’m cutting it really close with Savannah.
For the past two weeks I have helped her teacher (who is absolutely amazing!) with a painting project she has been wanting to do with the students but hasn’t had the time. I was very excited, I’m all about more art in school, learning through creativity, etc. A painting project is right up my alley.
On my first visit I was asked to help each student paint an entire page blue, like the ocean. I set everything up neatly while the teacher explained what we were going to do and sent groups of four students at a time to paint with me while the rest of the class continued their work on math problems. We were only using one color blue. I thought it probably could have been a little more exciting but I quickly realized that second graders have no shortage of creative ideas. They thought of so many ways to take all freaking day painting one sheet of paper, one color, with one paint brush.
Because the students who were being the quietest got to come over the first group I got were three of the brown nosing girls, who informed me that girls take such a long time because we do everything more perfect than boys, and a boy who immediately painted blue mustaches on all the brides in the newspaper I had laid out. I quickly realized that the only reason he had been sitting quietly was because he was confused about where he was. Paint paper blue. That’s it.
There were some artists, there were some neat freaks, there were a few nosy ones who had fifty million questions for me and were obviously trying to either trick me or catch me in a lie (I was very careful). There were also a few easy ones, who I just had fun sitting and talking to while they painted. I am happy to say Savannah was included in this bunch. Her teacher had told me that she was an excellent student but I had to see it to believe it. Such is the Mom/Daughter relationship. After less than two hours I was exhausted and covered in blue paint, ready for a drink at 10am. Her teacher asked me to come back the next week and I happily agreed. I had a whole week to recover and I had already told her I was free, it was really a rhetorical question.
So this morning I went back excited (my memory isn’t so great) to get to work on part two of our painting project. Turns out our oceans are going to eventually be a map of the world. Today each student had a sheet of paper with the seven continents that they ha covered in sand for texture. My job was to have them paint each of the seven continents a different color. Easy right?
Whoever said yes has way too much useless junk in their heads. I can’t understand why schools don’t teach our kids how to use google and spell check and call it a day (at least I’m smart enough to know I’m not cut out for homeschooling). On top of the fact that I don’t remember the seven continents, all the students papers only had six continents. Well, thank God I didn’t point out the teachers mistake because it turns out Europe and Asia are connected! I’m sure I learned that at some point but it’s not something I have ever used. Especially since I’ve never seen a map with no words on it and if I did have a map with no words I would probably just look for directions on mapquest and they don’t require you to enter a continent. Luckily, I made it through without embarrassing Savannah.
Tomorrow, I’m headed bck for part three. We will be cutting out our continents and pasting them onto our oceans. Obviously, I have some studying to do.
