Holpineville

Uncle

Do you know how much I love you?  So much that I’m staying up writing this, when I could be tackling something on the Horrible To-Do List, or maybe even sleeping, not that I sleep so well lately. 

I’m not sure where to begin to fill you in on things here.  My life is a complete scheduling wreck and all I can do is try to hang on for a few more months with reasonable diligence.  Then the PTO job should wind down and some of Ruby’s stuff will be over, and maybe I will get a grip.  I am in a rotten, depressed mood about the whole thing, but I think I just have to endure and try to sleep more in the mean time. 

Some  notes:

Ruby lost a molar this week.  She’s read all of the Lemony Snicket books in the space of about three weeks.  I can’t see how she can manage it that fast, but if you ask her a plot detail, she knows it.  She spent much of the last two weeks at school taking “benchmark” tests, which are basically a dry run for the big standardized test at the end of this month.  This whole deal just infuriates me, as it’s a huge, stressful waste of everyone’s time and neatly illustrates the horror of standardized testing gone wrong. 

So maybe it’s no surprise that Ruby cried over her math homework every night this week, and didn’t finish it once, even though one night I told her to take off, as a gift.  She still cried.  She cried in class today, when her teacher told her she needed to do a “writing prompt” (short essay exercise) that apparently she didn’t want to/feel like/was daunted by and so she did a math problem instead.  On the positive side, she and her tutor apparently found some magic key in her brain and she’s on track to get more spelling words right on her test tomorrow than she ever has before.  The secret trick?  She spells them in sign language.  I have no idea why this is working for her, but let’s hope it isn’t a fluke. 

Carl has decided he might finally get a haircut next month, because the weather is getting warmer, you know, but we’re not rushing into anything.  He woke up in the middle of the night with a really gruesome bloody nose; I cleaned him up as well as I could in the dark, but I was still finding drips and spatters this afternoon.   He is working on an invention for school, and he’s doing it so independently I’m not really sure what it is.  Rod helped with some patent research, though. 

To give you a few newsreel flashes, for Valentine’s Day I gave Rod a six pack and a balloon.  I have no excuse at all for being so lame, really, except that life overwhelms me right now.  He gave me this elaborate gear-heart thing he made on his 3-D printer, which is sort of symbolic of our relationship—he puts huge amounts of thought, time and effort into something  that never would be on my wish list.  Anyway, it was an unexpected treasure.  We had a date the weekend before that was solidly good, if not completely stellar.  Ruby’s class didn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day at all, poor dear (we think her teacher is a distant cousin of Scrooge).  Carl’s class had a little party.  He didn’t like the Valentine cards I got him to take to his friends (“too dorky!”) and so he made his own on the computer, using the draw function in Word and some spaceships he Googled up.  And he carefully put names on each one, and then neglected to hand them out in class. 

We had a workday at the kids’ school a couple of weekends ago.  I cleaned out the Art Room, which is really the Mouldering Art Supplies and Debris Room, since the kids don’t actually have art instruction or art time anymore, thanks, State Legislature!  Anyway, if I was any good at that sort of thing, my house would not look the way it does, and it was very hard work. Ruby was a big help that day in another part of the workday, laminating and cutting out classroom materials, and sharpening 400 pencils.  She was excited to be allowed into the “No Students Allowed!” workroom for the day.  Carl went to Lego Club instead, but you could have predicted that. 

I had a birthday that was pretty darn good, or at least the blow of getting to be THIS old was softened somewhat.  Rod bought and wrapped a present, made dinner reservations and booked a babysitter, all by himself, and it was awesome.  Ruby did my hair in an up-do that stayed up, Carl gave me make up tips while was getting ready, and they both paid me meaningful compliments using their sincere voices.  And my present is so embarrassingly cool I’m not even going to tell you what it is, because it’ll sound like bragging.  (Oh heck, it’s an iPad, the super-fancy pants model.  Completely unnecessary, but I love it to death…so does Carl, of course.) 

Another cool thing that happened:  Alice Waters came to the kids’ school, and I got to have lunch with her.  Yes, Alice Freakin’ Waters, people.  Yes, the legend in her own time, Chez Panisse, eat local, eat seasonal, Edible Schoolyard, that Alice Waters.  All my foodie friends are insane with jealousy.  My only regret is that I am far too camera shy to have properly inserted myself into the photos of the big day.  I’m just a big lurking thing in the background. For the record, she says the trick with kids is to get them cooking the veggies without adults in the process and then serving them to each other.  

Only a little less cool:  Ruby went to a big-deal concert one weekend with her music teacher and some other students.   The teacher said she could bring a parent, but Ruby wanted to go without us, which I thought was mature and I was so tired, my feelings were not hurt.  Last weekend, she and I went to another event, a taiko drum performance, a plan that she had somehow latched onto when she saw a preview for the show on the Internet.  I decided to say yes and spring for the rather pricey tickets because she rarely asks for something like that, and she takes a drumming class, so I thought it was fitting.  It was a very good show, and I felt badly that we didn’t take Carl, because he might even have enjoyed it. 

Last weekend was all about Frito pie.  Rod and Ruby were busy all Saturday getting ready for the annual father-daughter Girl Scout dance.  Their troop was hosting, so there was a lot of work.  This year was a sock hop theme.  Rod got industrial helium tanks, and made a cardboard jukebox prop, and the whole troop made felt poodle skirts (although Ruby’s was a cat skirt, not a poodle skirt).   Several people contributed food for the chili and Frito pie menu, but Ruby was in charge of the vegetarian chili, so we made a huge vat.  The next day, there was a fundraiser for the playground renovations we’re doing at the kids’ school, featuring live music and what else but Frito pie?  So I made another couple of vats of vegetarian chili, some others made the meat kind, and I bought obscene quantities of Fritos.  We raised over $1100 in a couple of hours, so it must have been edible. 

This has been the week of a zillion meetings for me, and next week isn’t looking any better.  If the meetings themselves aren’t bad enough, arranging rides and supervision for the kids while I am at them is enough to kill me (“Ok, if you can pick up Carl and take him to X’s house, X’s dad can watch him until Rod can get home from work, as long as he leaves a little early, and assuming the boys are getting along that day and D is well enough to have company by tomorrow.  Teacher B said she could give Ruby a ride to Y, but she’ll have to arrive a little early, and then she’ll have to just miss activity C, because I can’t figure out how to get her there, and then J will pick her up and take her to Rod, unless I’m done by then and can collect her, or she decides to go to dinner with E….”)

This weekend, the middle school students at the kids’ school are having a huge yard sale to raise money for their field trip, so I’m helping in various thankless ways, and then naturally we also have to have a $#%^&&*! bake sale table at it, for the aforementioned playground renovation project, which is another thing to plan, promote, staff, and clean up after.  There’s also a laser tag birthday party this weekend, an art exhibit Rod really super-please wants to see (it’s mechanical, if you couldn’t have guessed) and Carl wants to go see the Lorax, the first time he’s ever asked to go to a movie theater (the big screen and loud noise scares him, although he won’t admit it anymore).  Then there’s spring break in another week, and then we come back and hello! It’s time for the school gala, which the PTO I am in charge of is hosting.  And then I have an Easter trip planned, and another long weekend after that.   

So, if you don’t hear from me, that’s what we’ll be doing. 

 

 

Dispatch from Behind the Dryer

I’m stuck at home today, because the line of thunderstorms! and tornadoes! is rapidly approaching, and you know, I get freaked out about street flooding.  The TV weather guy said I should stay put, so I am.  I just hope it hurries up so that I don’t have to abandon the kids at school at pickup time, and I’m secretly hoping Ruby’s drumming class gets canceled this afternoon.  It’s a lovely class and I appreciate having time to sit there and read or answer e-mail while she’s in it, but Carl gripes about having to take her and so I end up having to entertain/discipline/distract him instead.

Date night Friday was an utter disaster.  Let’s see, we spent about $175, I think: $65 for the babysitter, $20 for the kid/babysitter pizza, $10 parking, $80 on dinner, $15 or so on after dinner beer…all so that Rod and I could make each other miserable.  If you had seen us at dinner (the one bright spot: good Indian food!) you’d have said, jeez, people, next time skip the reservations and book the couples counselor instead, because you’re a mess. 

It was infuriating, sad and depressing, although the more so because neither of us intended it to be that way.  And it took me until the next afternoon to buck up and decide to move on from the pain, by sheer force of will.  But by Saturday night, when the kids went to a sleepover at their pals’ house, everything was all kissy-kissy and Rod and I went out again and had an excellent time.  Truly, I swear.  Lovely.  So, if you are a person in a long-term romantic relationship and have ever had a rotten evening together when you intended the opposite, well, now you know you have company.  And if you can’t identify, that’s great and you are lucky, but don’t tell me about it. 

Moving on:

Ruby is almost done with occupational therapy.  Despite the massive expense and considerable hassle of getting to and from therapy, I wish she could keep going.  The therapist feels like she’s done what she can and that Ruby is doing okay, that she just needs to keep doing the exercises and techniques they’ve been working on.  I think am going to try to find her a tutor, someone with some dysgraphia/dyslexia experience, to try to cheerlead and keep Ruby organized and moving forward.  There are days when Ruby seems like a nice bright normal kid, but I am not good at dealing with the times when she’s not, and Rod isn’t, either. Having a third party helps us all maintain a little more perspective. 

I got some new software that I am hoping will help Ruby manage her math homework a little better and free me up from having to scribe for her every night, but I’m still sorting out how it works.  She also needs to practice her typing more and I want to get her some word prediction software, but it’s expensive, and she’s very negative about anything having to do with writing, so I’ve been holding off. 

Ruby just doesn’t seem very happy a good deal of the time.  She has a couple of close-ish friends and a huge pile of acquaintances, but not as many close girlfriends as she would like.  She likes her teacher, but not her class at school, and I don’t sense that she’s as captivated by what she’s learning as I would like.  Sometimes she’s very adult and perceptive and wise when you talk to her, and sometimes she’s so goofy and moody and clueless about social cues that I worry for her.  She enjoys her after school activities, but being so heavily scheduled also stresses her out.  She needs more sleep (despite our being fierce defenders of bedtime) and more exercise.  I am in so far over my head with her.

 

If This is the End, I Probably Should Have Shopped More

Does it feel like the end of the world to anyone else?  I was already worried about the drowning polar bears, the bed bug and drywood termite invasions, and so many other climate-change losses.  And let’s not forget my traditional summer hurricane season freak out; can’t skip that.  But this year, we’re also having an epic drought (We’ve had six inches of rain total since the end of January.  The usual is about two feet more).  And it’s been over 100 degrees every day except one in the past six weeks.  Sure, the water use restrictions are alarming, the lakes are all basically unuseable, the grass is long dead, and no one’s garden is producing anything, but it’s the poor dying trees that make you cry.  That, and the giant flying roaches that invade my house late at night, looking for a drink. 

Then, there are a couple of people I’m worrying about in a specific way, the horrible famine and drought in Somalia, making ours look like a garden paradise, the dysfunctional government/federal deficit business, the stock market and our savings doing its crazy psycho thing, and another nutcase governor from Texas running for president.  I warned you about the last one and I’m warning you about this one, don’t do it.  Please.  For the sake of the children, don’t vote for anyone that dim or that rigid. 

Thankfully, I’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t had time to get really depressed, or to plan my end-of-the-world party.  I like to hope the change of seasons will perk me up, but it doesn’t seem to be happening yet, and it’s an election year, to boot.  So I’m clinging to busy for now. 

Mostly I’m PTO busy, which is not so exciting to recount: I write a weekly newsletter and the PTO corner of the school newsletter.  I beg for volunteers, I confer with the treasurer, I find people to translate materials.  I collect and disburse supply fees.  I plan fundraisers. I nag the person who updates the website and the bulletin board.  I’m trying to figure out what to do about the school directory problem.  I field questions ranging from sensible to silly from teachers and parents.  I try to converse intelligently with the parent who develops the PTO website (and he dumbs down the truth so I can grasp it.)  I go to many, many meetings about many, many things.  I send e-mail, after e-mail, after e-mail.  I post stuff on the PTO Facebook page.  I corner the principal to get answers for my questions.  I made my first Powerpoint presentation at the PTO’s first big general meeting.  I had some notable and unusual success in getting volunteers for a couple of projects last week, and now I’m worried it will all be downhill from here.

Otherwise, I don’t have much cooking.  There's been no knitting and no reading and no other big projects.  The doctor who did my pain shot last month was sorry to hear it didn’t work, and is going to take another stab at it on Thursday, since I’ve met my deductible and all.  I’ve also been going to physical therapy.  I hate it, because it’s just like going to the gym, except I also have to chat with this weird therapist the whole time.  She has me doing some laughably easy exercises, but since I’m out of shape, they still make my muscles ache, and it’s hard for me to keep the right nerve-pain-avoiding alignment, so it's just slightly possible they’re helping a little bit with my most irritated nerve.  Useful, too, was the suggestion that I should modify movements and avoid things that hurt.  That may sound logical, but I wasn’t sure I should until she said so.  Before, I didn’t know if the fact that it hurt had any additional consequence (i.e., if it wasn’t causing cumulative damage, so what if it hurt?)  or if preserving my range of motion was worth enduring some pinched nerve pain.  So I’m trying to stay off it and we’ll see.  But I’ll still be happy when the six sessions are over.

This morning, my goal is to finish writing this (between PTO e-mails). I am also making my third attempt at cooking homemade refried beans.  You see, my kids eat a lot of refried beans.  But Rod and I decided several months ago to cut their BPA exposure.  Not because there’s overwhelming evidence about the dangers of BPA (or any other chemicals in plastic or can linings) but there’s Ruby, obviously going through puberty at age eight, and then there were a couple of studies that made us go, hmmm…..And we thought, if we can avoid the risk, why not?  So we switched to glass and metal containers for leftovers and lunchboxes, and unlined stainless steel water bottles.  We’ve cut way back on canned food, not that we ate much of it to begin with, mostly just tomato products and beans.  It hasn't been a hard adjustment at all.   And as a bonus, I can make the equivalent of four cans of refried beans for about 69 cents.  They store fine in the freezer.

Refried beans (which generally aren’t fried, you know-- ‘refrito’ meaning something more like double-cooked); how hard could it be to make them?  I couldn’t believe it was just pureed beans.  There had to be some seasoning involved, right?  So I first used a Mark Bittman recipe involving a fair amount of sautéed onion that was interesting tasting, and Carl would eat them, but it wasn’t anything like refried beans I’ve had anywhere else. Bittman is clearly a northerner.  Then I tried again, with a lot less onion and a different spice mix.  Ruby said they tasted burned and begged me to buy canned again.  So this time, I am just going to salt and puree them, even if it kills me to step away from the spice rack, and see if the kids eat them.  I will get this figured out, no matter how many 69 cent bags of beans it takes me.

Then, later I am going to the mall to buy Carl some underwear, which is all Rod’s fault.  You see, Carl still refuses to wear underwear.  I think it’s a little odd and gross, but I understand there are adults who don’t either, and I figure at some point other kids will shame him into it, or one day he’ll have some pants emergency and get embarrassed by having nothing underneath, and then he’ll start.  It’s just not a battle I’ve been wanting to fight with Mr. Strong Willed. 

But last weekend over dinner, the mom of one of Carl’s friends and classmate told us that she’s telling her son he has to wear underwear because it’s a new school rule.  Otherwise, her kid wants to go without because Carl goes without.  Sensing an opportunity, and not wanting to ruin her method for getting her kid to wear briefs, I told Carl last night that it was a new rule at school this year, and he’d have to wear underwear. 

Carl protested, but I told him his friends were all having to wear them, too, and it would just be for school.  I figured it was worth a shot, but I also guessed he’s see right through that “new rule” story and I didn’t dare hope he’d really do it.  And I was right; this morning, no underwear.

Enter Rod.  Oh, Rod.  Rod, who gets so torqued about kids “lying” to him (you know, that thing where they tell you what you want to hear instead of what really happened, to make you happy and keep the peace, even though they know that you know otherwise?).  Oh, the irony.  Well, he was swearing to Carl on a stack of Bibles that this was some sacred new school rule and told him to put some on underpants or lose his precious screen time.  Predictably, when faced with that kind of threat, Carl threw a fit, which we didn’t really have time for before school, and Rod was stomping around using his grumpy voice, making things worse. 

So Carl, sobbing and running late, finally tried to put on some underwear….and they were all too small.  Yes, the ones I bought him when they were two sizes too big and he never wore them?  He must have grown.   Even the boxers were tight.  Then Rod got all cranky about why didn’t we know this until now, and tomorrow, by golly, Carl's going to have to do it, so I guess I better go buy new underpants.  I think I’m going for the expensive super soft briefs and the super loose boxers, and I bet Carl won’t ever wear them, either.

 Both kids have lost teeth recently.  I have to tell you that the tooth fairy no-showed  three times.  Once, we were able to explain it was a technicality, because Carl lost his tooth during the night and shoved it under his pillow without telling anyone.  But poor Ruby has been stood up for the last two teeth.  She probably knows The Truth, but she still plays the game and she was hurt.  The first time, we told her the cat must have scared off the tooth fairy, and the tooth fairy dutifully came the second night.  The next time, the cat was outside, so that story wasn't going to work.  We were vague; “Gee, I dunno, honey.  Maybe it was just a busy night.”  And then I told her about the secret notices that show up in the paper when there’s a tooth fairy service interruption (you know, written in code in the legal notices, classifieds or obituaries) and we checked, but I didn’t see one I could readily translate.  Luckily, the tooth fairy made it the second night that time, too. 

We’re through the first week of school and things seem to be going okay.  Both kids’ classes are overfull (gee, thanks, state legislature!).  Ruby has the biggest adjustment.  She has a new class with a different teacher.  None of her good pals are in her class, and she’s back to being one of the youngest.  She does like the teacher, and hasn’t complained too much about the work yet.  Homework starts this week, however, and judging from what I was told at the open house, there’s a lot more writing in general, so I’m sure the meltdown about it is coming.  I think the work Ruby has been doing in occupational therapy will help, but it’s no magic cure, either.  She is going to struggle mightily with some of the fourth grade work.

Carl also has a new class and a new teacher—in fact, it’s her first year teaching.  She’s a mom of four boys, some of whom are even more challenging than Carl, and we know her from school and the neighborhood.  She was a teaching assistant last year, and everyone in that class loved her.  So I’m hopeful that she’ll be a good fit for Carl, and that the first year adjustment won’t be too hard for her.  She has been very complimentary about Carl so far.  She says he’s doing a good job of following the rules and getting work done and ignoring his crazy pals in class when he needs to.  She says he’s clearly ahead of most of the other first graders (which was a surprise to me), so she’s trying to get him going on some work at his level.  I am sure he will argue about homework just because Ruby does, but so far, he seems to really like first grade.

Ruby has mostly settled into her new room, and Carl is getting used to sleeping without her.  For a while, it was like they were both two years old and had never slept in this house before.  They couldn’t settle down, begged me to stay in the room with them, got up 96 times a night…. It was ridiculous.  Finally, it’s getting a little better. They’ve both moved toys from the living room into their rooms, and the living room looks strangely empty…except for the drift of stuffed animals and dress up clothes in the corner, I mean. 

Ruby wants to make some money; maybe just to make money, and maybe so that she can give it to charity, I’m not sure which.  So she’s been working on plans for a fish-sitting business.  I don’t think it’ll fly, but who am I to stomp on her dream?  Also, she wants to have a table at the school fall festival and sell crafts, and she’s been busily beading jewelry and cutting up t-shirts.  This seems a slightly more practical idea, so I’m trying to support it a little bit.  We’ll see if it actually happens.  I do want to find a beading class for us to take together, though, because I’m unable to help her figure out how to attach the various clasps and findings and that would go a long way toward improving her art. 

Rod has been very patient with all my PTO nonsense and general stress level.  He’s working hard at the office on some top-secret project.  He recently finished another round of electroshock therapy for his Achilles tendon, which he says doesn’t exactly hurt but isn’t really feeling quite right either (the tendon, not the therapy), and he thinks the zapping is helping.  He’s been doing a lot of work building some stuff for the kids’ school and making himself a more fabulous kegerator for his home brew.  The poor guy has a business trip to Paris looming, too.  

I promise I will try to write more often this fall, but if I don't, it's not because I don't want to.  It'll be because either the world has ended, or there's a PTO project.  

 

More Colorful than Ever

Our exchange student (finally) moved out.  It was a tiny bit sad, but she's still in town, so we'll be in touch, and I think was time for her to live a little more independently , and for us to get the space back.  Ruby has been planning and scheming for months about what she was going to do when she got “her” room back.  There are certain things that are on her I-must-have-this-really-or-I-might- (cry? Die? Be really disappointed?) list.  At the top was a new paint job.  Pink, to be specific, which surprised me, because I thought we were done with the Pink Phase.  But try as I might, using all my subtle and powerful techniques, she would not be dissuaded. Rod was worried about the visual impact of an all-pink room, and suggested putting in some chair-rail type moldings to break it up.

Yesterday, we cleaned out the space, took the nails and screws out of the walls, and Rod and Ruby put up the moldings.  So far, so good.  Today, Rod and Ruby bought the paint.  Rod swears he did his best to moderate Ruby’s choices, but the colors are a little more intense than I would have expected: pink!  Pink-ish red!  Purple!  But the total effect, on the wall, is not as horrific as I would have guessed…or maybe I’m just resigning myself to it. 

Once the paint is finished, it’ll be off to Ikea for this bed Ruby is eyeing.  I think it’s kinda godawful, but she’s pretty attached to it, and it’s cheap, so when she comes to her senses and wants to replace it, I won’t feel so bad.  Then she has her eye on a purple shag rug, and then there are some wall decals and a kitten poster she got for her birthday to put up, and then we’ll probably need fresh curtains.

Besides that, Rod and I got to go out one evening all by ourselves with no children; lovely, but brief.  And we hosted the PTO board one night.  It was my meeting, of course, but I made the kids grocery shop and tidy up in preparation, and poor Rod got to serve food and drinks and supervise a pack of kids and also take questions from the board of an engineering nature.   There were a couple of other meetings this week, and Ruby went to her OT sessions, and to music lessons. 

That all makes it sound so calm, though, and it wasn’t.  The kids drove me and each other crazy and I yelled to little or no avail.  Today, I took the kids to an ice-skating birthday party; Ruby was shaky, but I got her around a rink a couple of times.  Carl was doing a lot more falling, but he was much more daring than Ruby was, so I think he’d soon outdo her, given some practice time.  He wants to go again tomorrow, too.

Since I’m going to have so many meetings of various kinds this fall, and finding childcare for that sort of thing last year was such a hassle, I’m trolling for new babysitters.  I can’t believe how hard this is.  Where are all the teenagers and college kids looking to earn a little cash?  Isn’t there some bored grandma down the street? But no, I don’t know anyone who can be available a few afternoons a month and a weekend evening once in a while.  This is probably one reason people go to church, right?  A handy crop of sort-of-vetted teenagers and retired ladies?

Well, in addition to complaining about this to all my friends and the Internet at large, I’ve taken a radical step.  I put an ad on an online childcare matching service!  I missed the whole Internet dating thing, being long married when that all started up, but this is kind of like that, and I’m beginning to see why it can make you crazy.  I’m getting piles of responses—mostly from people who seem to be looking for the kind of job I’m not offering, at an hourly rate I can’t pay.  I’m trying hard to resist automatically rejecting the ones who can’t punctuate and have grammar issues, or who over-explain why they don’t have full time jobs right now, or who assume I share their religious preferences.  The people who sound good aren’t available when I need them, or they live in the farthest suburb.  It eats up a lot of time, corresponding with these people.  Plus, I am starting to get nervous about semi-blind dating with my kids involved.   I mean, the background check only gets you so far.  And I also haven’t found a secret babysitting line item in my budget, so where the funds are coming from for this, I don’t know.  Carl’s college fund?  He’s the one who really hates sitting through meetings with me.  Ruby will usually either read a book or be content to eavesdrop on the grownups. 

This week is all about children driving me crazy, the PTO preparing for back to school events, and fixing up Ruby’s room.  I think the tenants in our rental property might be getting ready to move, which would add another not-fun factor, although it wouldn’t be unexpected. 

 

Crossing the Internet by Conestoga

My computer was having trouble starting up. Although I try to find its little quirks endearing, rather than infuriating, I confess I was tiring of the unpredictability—would it take me five minutes to get going, or 45, today? And being a busy, yet non-technical person, I wasn’t really up to the task of figuring it out myself. So I called an IT friend who moonlights helping people in distress like me (aside: I am so thrilled to finally, at middle age and thanks in large part to the Internet, to have a network of people who know something about whatever it is that’s troubling me). He has decided the problem is hardware (“I see it’s been dropped at least once…”) and not software, and has ordered replacement parts. In the meantime, he gave me a loaner desktop. I don’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but it’s been slooooow getting anything done this week. I don’t even type 40 words a minute, but I can still flummox this antique when I write e-mails.

So there’s been lots going on this week, but it’s been too technologically challenging to tell you as it happened.

Yesterday was Mother’s Day. I miss my mom, even though I know if she were alive, she would be causing me either slight annoyance or nagging worry, and I would have no idea what present to send her. I still wish I could.

Anyhow, being a mom myself, I got to sleep late and had breakfast in bed, and presents! I got an iron. Yes, I know, appliances? But I truly wanted a new one. I’ve been sewing, and our old one is leaky and the bottom falls off it, and the coating flakes off, and I guess my kids really are growing up, because I’ve actually ironed a couple of my outfits recently. Plus, I have trouble choosing when it comes to buying things like that, so it’s lifting a burden off my shoulders to just have someone else pick the model. But that’s not all! I also got a plush, noise-making Angry Bird and some Angry Bird brand pork rinds (they don’t exist—Rod relabeled some with great artistic effect). No, I can’t really explain it either: Carl plays Angry Birds, not me, and I’m not exactly a pork-rind fan. But Rod and the kids went to some trouble and gleeful conspiracy over this, and I am sure I will have plenty of opportunities to fling that bird at them. And then Rod took the kids swimming in the afternoon and I managed a little overdue PTO labor in peace, and went to a fundraising dinner for school with some PTO people that night. Not such a bad day.

Saturday was Ruby’s big show. I had been doing my share of carpooling to rehearsals, but I hadn’t actually watched one, so the whole thing was new to me. Ruby had a cameo, the sort of thing that would make me break out in nervous hives at her age, but she did great. She delivered her line clearly right on cue, and then danced on stage all by herself for one long golden moment (well, two: there were two performances), and I was in awe. I was sitting with the moms of her friends, and I confess it was hard for me to tear my eyes away from my kid to see what theirs were doing and think of something nice to say about them.

Ruby’s group had several numbers on stage. The first was their drumming performance, and when they came out, I worried because I didn’t see her for a couple of minutes. Had something happened? Did she miss the big entrance? Suddenly I realized that tallish kid in the center with the pigtails and the extremely long legs wrapped around a drum, next to the teacher/drum coach, was Ruby! She seemed nothing like the kid I have at home, and certainly nothing like that little girl my subliminal brain thinks is my daughter. And then I was thinking about how my mom would have loved to have been there, and it made me cry, and then there were a couple of other sappy parts of the show that made me cry, and then the director at the end made an impassioned plea for arts education and it made me cry. So, lots of wasted mascara, but a good show.

Carl brought home a bunch of work he did during his stint visiting first grade. He was pretty productive, and I can report that he can add and subtract and do a little multiplication, he’s flirting with cursive writing, and he researched the mouse-eared bat and the basking shark that week, too. My observation time in his proposed classroom was canceled due to yet another round of standardized testing. Sigh.

It took me a couple of days, but I finally realized the reason Carl was walking around with his pants unbuttoned is that they’re too small. Not just too short, which we already knew, but also too small. And some of his shirts are a little on the short side, too, so he looks a little like the Incredible Hulk mid-transformation some mornings. He also tells me that while he likes his new Converse slip-ons very much, his toes are already touching the ends, so maybe I should order him the next size up. Ruby pretty much says the same about her shoes, although I just spent $45 having her favorite ones repaired because we couldn’t find a mutually acceptable substitute for them. They also both need haircuts desperately. It never ends around here.

What more? There are cucumbers, peppers, okra and a few precious cherry tomatoes in the backyard, but also some mites and a drought, so I guess they won’t be there long. It’s getting uncomfortably hot again, the cats keep trying to catch fleas (but we’re on top of the pesticide schedule!) and my hurricane phobia is starting to stir. I am also pointlessly worried about money, what with summer camp tuition payments coming due, gas at $4 a gallon and milk at $5.

Rod organized a pinewood derby at work and I think went well; he certainly put a ton of time and energy and creativity into it. His car only came in second place, though. The kids are taking swimming lessons this month. Our resident exchange student is supposed to be moving out this summer—my choice, not hers—so I’m trying help her find a place. Ruby wants her room back and I think two years is enough help from us anyway; it’s time for our 22 year old duckling to leave the nest. The PTO is keeping me very busy and making me feel very inadequate, but nothing bad has happened yet on that front, unless you count taking up my free time and messing with my mind. I have a couple of knitting projects pending, and the kids want me to hurry up and sew them fleece bathrobes—just the thing when your house is going to be about air conditioned to a balmy 80 degrees for the next five or six months.

I Got Nothing

There's not a lot to talk about here, folks, but that's never stopped me before, right?

Let's see.  This week, the kids went to the dentist.  No cavities, no alarming "fix it right now!" problems.  They could both do a better job on the oral hygiene, but couldn't we all?  Ruby has three very loose teeth. Carl got a green plastic snake and Ruby got a squishy ball thing for their cooperation prizes.  I got the bill for the copay and the bottles of fluoride gel (no emails about the horrors of fluoride, please!).

Ruby is being slightly more compliant about homework.  This week, she offered to keep her homework whines deep down inside, "so they'll get pooped out later." Whatever works, I always say. Carl felt a little left out at homework time, so we found some "homework" for him to do at the same time; tracing letters in a wipe-off workbook.  Ruby starts piano lessons next week.  We shall see how it goes.

I went to help with kindergartners' reading at Carl's class, and it was fine until Carl showed up and climbed all over me and basically made an ass of himself.  I will have to hide better next time.  I am a little concerned that his teacher doesn't have such a good grasp on the reading levels of the various kindergartners yet, but I guess since my kid's not in kindergarten, I will cut her some slack.

What else? I got my hair done today,in the autumn-inspired slightly less blond variation.  I went to the grocery store every day this week, even though I didn't feel like it.  I did some laundry.  I cooked dinner, even when I didn't feel like it.  I took the kids to a play date and to their creative movement classes.  I went to a farewell dinner for a friend. I did not make it to the gym. Oops.

This weekend, I am going to visit my sisters in the big city. I will get to remember how the single people live and be in weather cool enough for a sweater.  We're all doing the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation walk and having brunch in honor of mom.  It's a 5K walk, so this can't really be considered an athletic event, although I do get a t-shirt!  It's more of a leisurely stroll and bonding experience, one mom might have enjoyed had she not suffered the various nasty ravages of juvenile (Type 1) diabetes and then died from it one night. On the bright side, it's a disease science is making a lot of progress on just now, so maybe future Type 1's and their families will have it better. 

The kids' school is doing fund raiser after fund raiser, so if you need coupon books, wrapping paper, terrifying shelf-stable cookie dough, poinsettias, or who knows what all else, I can fix you up.  I have just been writing checks to the PTO every time, in lieu of marketing to all my friends and family, because I hate selling stuff, and the PTO gets more money out of me that way anyhow.

Read anything good lately?  Before school started, I read Through a Glass Darkly, by Karleen Koen.  Koen has a connection to the kids' school and I've met her a few times, so I was interested to read this. This week, I finished Bridge of Sighs. I think Richard Russo's work is pretty darn great in general, but I could use a good laugh and so I kept hoping this would turn into one of his funny books, which it isn't, although it has a few moments. A friend has me reading Year of Wonders, by Geraldine Brooks, which is about the plague.  I do love a good medical drama, and it's absorbing, but I find myself skimming ahead.  Maybe I just lack patience right now? I am also listening to Cider House Rules on the ip@d while knitting and driving, and I am hooked.  How I could have gone through life without reading it already or even seeing the movie?  Or maybe it's just the magic of audio. Or maybe I'll get halfway through and tire of it, too.

After a lot of nagging by a certain friend, I joined Facebook this week.  Let me know if you want to be my "friend;" the list is pretty short just now.  I also have been slowly adding some of my old knitting projects to my Ravelry notebook, so if you are on Ravelry and want to share, that would be cool, too.  Ravelry is a bit like Facebook for knitters/crocheters/needlework people, if you are wondering.