Holpineville

The Honorary Girl

Let me start by saying that I'm not really back to the blog, officially. I'm still snowed under with PTO work (five days until the handoff! but there will be some transitioning to do in May), and kid activities and life in general.

Also, my computer keeps having....spasms. Yes, spasms, and it cuts into my productivity. Rod has persuaded me to order $50 in parts that might fix it, instead of chucking it out the window like I wanted to. The parts finally arrived, but now, Rod is gone. So I am waiting for them both to be in the right place, in the right mood at the same time. Cross your fingers.

Rod has just departed with a load of 9-10-11 year old girls for a campout, following the local Girl Scout council's annual fundraiser luncheon, at which Ruby and a couple of the other girls were in the honor guard. This was a huge family production, with lots of honor guard practices in the last couple of weeks, and new clothes! Rod had to get a navy blazer (hard to find in his monkey weird size) and a Girl Scout tie (the official male uniform apparel) and Ruby had to buy some new shoes (you may be shocked, but her feet keep growing) and some khakis that button and zip, and you'd think that kind of pants was poisonous, to see her try them on. Rod updated her sash with all her new patches, badges, pins and whatnot, too. She wore an "historical" uniform for the ceremony, but she had to change into the real uniform after. Oh, and the "historical" uniform? It was from 1996-1997. I feel so old.

An anonymous source told me Rod was being nominated for a Girl Scout volunteer award, but if he was supposed to get it today, he didn't. Maybe it comes later, though, so don't ask/tell him about it. "What, for having a penis?" I joked, when the source told me; after all, he's only been the leader for a year.

But seriously: Rod is rocking as a Girl Scout troop leader. He's almost doubled the size of the troop this year, patiently recruiting girl after girl. He's planned camping trips, activities, and meetings. He goes to endless training sessions and planning meetings. He helps Ruby sell cookies. Last weekend, his Girl Scout boss persuaded him to absorb a whole other troop, too, so his empire just more than doubled. The good part about the new troop? It has some useful parent volunteers. The bad part about the new troop? It has one parent so crazy I'm frightened for poor Rod. I want him to wear a wire to every meeting and have friendly witnesses to every interaction.

Anyway, for a guy who used to not like kids, he's doing an awesome job. And, I think I've identified future PTO leadership material here, people.

In other Rod news, he had to pack up and move his office to a new building this week, and of course he was all fussy about wanting his cabinets and shelves arranged differently from everyone else's, and there was actual work he had to do, too. He's beginning to look like he needs a break.

Carl and I are having some time alone this weekend. It should suit him, as he seems to be going through a little Oedipal phase; he gives me long, full body hugs and asks to sleep with me. Unfortunately, we have a full day tomorrow: the all-school play date I am nominally in charge of, and then Ruby comes back from camp for a rehearsal for next weekend's performance, and we have to drive her back to camp after that.

I can't promise to blog regularly or at all often, but the fact that I'm even thinking about it is a sign that there might be some light at the end of my tunnel.

Surfacing Briefly for Air

When did ordinary life get to be too much for me?  That is the question, but it’s obvious that I am way past Whelmed. 

News:

We had spring break in Chicago.  It was lovely.  We spent much of the first few days with Rod’s brother and family.  Our nieces put up with Ruby and Carl with grace and kindness, to my relief, because I know the little brats can be hard to take sometimes and they don’t see each other all that much.  The kids and I then hung out with sister Heather for a couple of days while Rod made minor improvements and repairs to her apartment (condo?)  and it was also lovely.  Carl went into an obsessive spiral about collecting those squashed pennies you can get at museums and tourist attractions, and Ruby bought a horse (yes, a horse!) at American Girl, where we had a tea that was very much fun.  We went to the aquarium and the zoo and the planetarium and the science museum.  The kids had a sleepover with their cousins one night, and a movie and pizza party with Auntie Heather another (i.e., Date Night for Me and Rod).   Sister Carla worked the whole time, but I did catch a glimpse of her once.  We spent too much money, but we had a good time, and we rented this really cool apartment, so if you ever need a place to stay in Lakeview in Chicago, I can tell you about it.

Then we came back and went to the Livestock Show and carnival, where all Carl wanted to do was try to win stuffed animals (which is possible, but expensive).  We tried to have a long-anticipated sleepover with some of his pals, and it didn’t work out and he was very sad.    Then it was school gala week, with the big event this past weekend.  Everything I have to write about it makes it all sound so smooth, and it wasn’t.  The day before, I had a nail in my tire, just as I was set to transport gala stuff, in the middle of all the last minute nonsense that usually happens.  Ruby had an inconvenient tutorial on Gala day, and decided at the last minute that we really needed to host her friend’s guinea pig for a weekend visit, too.  Carl came down with a high fever the night before, so I spent about $225 on babysitting and a lot of time worrying about my poor sick baby from a distance (who seems to be fine now).

So, the Gala: the hall was cheap but ugly, and Rod worked exceedingly hard, along with several other people, making it presentable. And in the end, it was pretty much of a flop.  Or, I guess I should qualify:  it was a truly fun, great party, everything went smoothly….but donations to the auction were down, attendance was down, and if we are lucky, we made about half the money we hoped to. Big, Big, Ouch.

Rod somehow rallied enough to take his Girl Scout troop bowling the day after, and he has been really busy at work the past few weeks.  He’s going out of town for part of this week, and then next weekend there’s a Girl Scout campout, which he gets to plan and execute up to the point of sleeping, but then he gets ejected for being male.  There’s some scary little Thing growing on his head, which I promptly freaked out about after I found it while groping him one evening. I immediately made him a dermatologist appointment , but he hasn’t had it yet, so I am still worrying about the Thing in my free time.  With my extensive medical knowledge and Googling abilities, I have convinced myself it’s not melanoma, but I can’t rule out squamous or basal carcinoma, although I am faking calm well, if I do say so myself.  It’s probably just, you know, a zit, or scar tissue from getting nicked with the hair clippers too many times. 

Ruby is somewhere between fine and a big mess.  She has a big standardized test tomorrow and Wednesday and there’s a good chance she won’t pass, although the state has yet to define what passing is.  It’s a writing test, and while she can churn out a coherent paragraph when she’s in the right mood, and especially if she gets a little help with spelling, being under pressure is sort of the kiss of doom.  Plus, spelling counts and a paragraph is probably not enough, content-wise.  She’s also having a lot of social anxiety lately, feeling like she only has one friend and very lonely.  I, Queen of Lonely Outcastdom as a child, am no help at all and feel lousy for not being able to fix this for her.  Ruby is also quite busy, with her four fully-booked afternoons every week, homework, Girl Scouts, and yoga on Saturdays. 

I am fighting off a virus and soldering on through PTO duties, which don’t seem to be getting any easier, even as I near the end of the school year.  April is going to be crazy busy, but with a couple of fun trips in it, too.  I am working on plans for the summer; day camp and travel scheduling seems to be harder every year, and I need to plan a trip with Rod but we have spent way too much money this spring.   And I have to hurry up and get taxes done this week, joy of joys.  

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. 

 

 

Swamped Once Again

I do apologize for not writing much, but I’m just a wee bit overwhelmed once again.

Rod is in a busy period at work and the Girl Scouts are taking a good deal of his time.  He has some work trips looming, too.  He and Carl have been hanging out on the weekends some; one day they made a really big foam bow and arrow set, and one morning was completely devoted to some Scooby Doo Wii game. 

Carl is fine.  He complains about his homework, but he does it well, once we break his spirit enough for him to get down to business.  He wants to have a playdate every single day and a sleepover every single weekend, and he’s angry when that doesn’t happen.  He’s also angry that the agenda for after school hours includes anything he doesn’t want to do (i.e., all of Ruby’s activities).  He needs to work on his personal hygiene and he eats tons.  He has certain outfits he favors (basically all the stuff Grandma gave him, although he loves it for itself, not for its origins; she just knows how to pick ‘em) and getting them off of him for washing is a challenge.  He also insists on sleeping with a certain quilt (again, coincidentally, from Grandma) every night…and with a certain towel (go figure), in a play tent that he has to fold himself up to fit into.  To my surprise, he wanted to watch the Super Bowl this year, so we did.  To my further surprise, he sustained his attention for the whole thing, and to my dismay, has been quoting the commercials to me ever since.  He decisively chose to root for the Giants and therefore was unsurprised when they won: “Well, yeah.  I told you they were the best one.” 

Ruby is also fine, but with moments of pretty awful. Someone has to supply the drama around here, and while I try, she’s always ready to pitch in.  I am increasingly concerned about her school situation, but unsure what to do about it.  I have a whole flock of worry components: 1) Ruby’s personal unhappiness/bad classroom fit/socialization, 2) the dysgraphia, 3) her odd teacher, 4) some days it seems that standardized testing pressure is turning our lovely Montessori program into a worksheet distribution center, 5) general concerns about the quality of public education.  Lately I’ve been Googling private Montessori schools, as I dream of a world without the TAKS or STAAR exams. 

Yesterday, I toured a well-regarded private school that specializes in otherwise-smart kids plagued by learning differences, which sounded like it might be a good place for Ruby.   I was afraid to really like it, because it costs about $28K a year, so it’s out of the question unless we win the lottery.  It was excellent in some ways: just six kids in a class, excellent use of adaptive technologies, and just the welcoming atmosphere of a place that understands the difficulties these kids face and what it does to their self image.  But it also seemed to be more than what Ruby needs; some of the kids were plainly autistic, severely ADHD, or just plain odd, and I just couldn’t see her making friends and fitting in.  It was also extremely not-Montessori like in operation, with everyone doing the same things at the same time, and that would be a huge shock for her.  So, no, it’s not the place for us right now. 

I looked at a part-time “classical” private school, because I like the idea of part classroom time and part guided home schooling, but there’s a huge religion component there that I can’t accept, and I don’t know how they handle dysgraphia/dyslexia.  There’s a Waldorf school nearby one can attend part time (and then part home school) but it’s new and I’m not convinced it’s any good,  and Rod thinks I’m completely nuts for even looking at alternatives.   I’m going to figure out a time I can go observe in Ruby’s classroom and some other upper elementary classrooms at her school, and get some more data points. 

Anyway, maybe it’s just a phase and I’ll feel better once the horrible testing is over at the end of March.  Ruby started with her new tutor last week and perhaps that will help.  The tutor is a teacher at the above $28K school, so she knows about dysgraphia and ADD and processing disorders.  She also teaches Ruby’s Brain Gym Yoga class on Saturdays, so they already have a comfort level. 

I am really busy with PTO all of the sudden, too: our treasurer quit unexpectedly, and there are a ton of events coming up.  My energy and interest level is flagging, but it all has to get done and then I need to help persuade some people to run the board next year.  I’m working on our plans for spring break and Easter and I really need to settle down and plot out the summer camp calendar.  Summer goes on forever this year, and the kids are getting picky about which camps they want to attend. 

This weekend, Ruby is going to a concert with her piano teacher and a few other students, she's trying to set up the inaugural meeting of a book club with some other girls, and she has yoga.  Carl is trying to set up a playdate that might last all weekend.  We have a birthday party to go to, and Saturday night Rod and I are going to a Valentine’s Day event at the Arboretum.  The kids are really cranky about having to go to the childcare room for this event, but I told them too bad—that they had to take one for the family and endure it; I’m sure the complaining will up the romance factor.  Apart from that, there are no Valentine’s Day plans at my house.  Carl needs to buy some valentines for his classmates, but now that he’s seven, he’s really just too cool for all that and he doesn’t want to, plus it would be so hard and take so long to have to write everyone's names... (did you just hear the whine? I hope so.)  

XXXOOO to you all. Celebrate well. 

 

Waste

Yesterday, I went to a long, contentious, and very draining meeting of this school district committee I am on.  It was all about being $43 million dollars short for next year, even after all the horrible budget cuts this year, and how everyone just loathes the new teacher appraisal and development system I spent most of last year going to meetings about and working on (oh, no, we’re not all getting 5 out of 5 ratings anymore!), and how the graduation rate is only 74% (but that’s better than it used to be!) and some people are just crazy, is all I can say.  Driving home, I listened to a news item about the horrible state of public education funding and the huge gaps between the haves v. the have nots.  Then, I helped Carl finish his homework, lice combed Ruby’s head, and read to them for a very long time, because we were at a pivotal point in the bedtime book de la semaine (actually, they have about five separate bedtime books going, which is a little much even for my variety-loving tastes, but they aren’t complaining.) 

Then, after I thought I was off duty for the night, Ruby had a big hysterical crying fit because she was suddenly afraid the house was going to catch fire and burn down while she was sleeping.  Later, there was a long string of PTO emails about exciting things like supply fee reimbursements (more of the crazy people) and gala invitation dimensions, and how many t-shirts to order in which sizes.   Naturally, the burglar alarm went off at 4:15 a.m., scaring the bejeezus out of Ruby, and after I got everyone back in bed, Rod snuffled or squirmed every time I got close to being asleep.  

You won't be surprised to hear, then, that tonight is the night I have finally managed to secure a babysitter, in an effort to reinject some joy and romance into the marital partnership, and I will be such! Fun! to date!  There is definitely a 4 p.m. coffee run in my future.  Also, I have no grand plan for the evening Fun & Romance and I hate to just default to dinner and a movie.  Gah.  I know, I wouldn’t want to date me, either.

Anyway, back to my main point: wasted resources.

If, like my household, yours shops Amaz@n.com very often, you really must always due it via an affiliate link to a charity.  What, you say?  You see, if you start at www.wilsonpto.org/fundraising, you’ll find a link to Amazon.  Shop like normal.  Use Prime, redeem gift cards, get free shipping, download to your heart’s content.  Whatever you spend, our little PTO will get a donation of 6% or so.  It’s anonymous, so you can buy underwear, tampons, gas remedies, marital aids, or whatever, and you won’t have to worry that we’ll know who has the addiction to romance novels or how much your new washing machine or camera cost. 

If you’re not into supporting my kids’ school, fine.  Go find the link at the website of your public radio station, or local museum or symphony.  Everybody’s doing it, and it’s free money!

More free money: 

Do you recognize this:

It’s a Boxtop for Education.  They show up on many, many products.  Here’s the list.  You may think, as I did, that your household doesn’t really buy that much processed food, but I bet you’ll find a few as you look through your cabinets.  These little puppies are worth 10 cents each to a school, sometimes more when there are bonus deals.  Don’t throw money in the trash!  Pull them out of your neighbor’s recycling bin, too.  Then give them to a parent of school aged kids, mail them to the school down the street, give them to the preschool at your church. 

 

See this: 

It’s a Label for Education. Same deal—the list of products is here.  They are valuable, and schools go to a lot of trouble to collect them.  It drives me nuts when people tell me it’s too much trouble to save that stuff. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do it, because I can't find $43 million (really, we probably need five times that to educate children in the still-modest style I would find appropriate), but I can make sure the school gets my 6% commissions, and those little ten cent bits of paper, and so can you.  

Rhymes with Nice, But It's Not

Rod returned from his trip just in time to find me discovering lice on Ruby’s head, a joyous homecoming if ever there was one.  I think we have the little critters on the run, but the hour spent combing every evening is brutal, given the already tight schedule.  I have my suspicions about where Ruby got them, and yet you can’t really go around critiquing people’s combing techniques and how they treat their kids’ heads, right?  Just please, don’t let them find my head….

 

This week is just an ongoing slog of after school activities and PTO meetings and work on the school’s fundraising gala, which is coming up.  Rod had a day trip to exciting Ft. Worth, and I stayed up late several nights stuffing envelopes, which lends a glaze of exhaustion to everything else.  Today I had the great honor of talking with one of the Early Childhood classes, in Spanish, no less, about the joys of volunteer work and why one would be crazy enough to be the PTO president. Apparently the teacher is moving on to other parents with more impressive jobs to talk about professions and the importance of higher education.  So, there was a minor sting to my pride when I was invited to talk about volunteering, but I smiled and said yes and refrained from explaining what an important person I used to be before I retired early.

 

The meeting with Carl's teacher was okay.  She's trying to figure out what to do with him when he gets so mad he's not interruptable, which is rare, but scary.   He's so big and strong she can't physically remove him.  She wants him to work on recognizing when he's upset and stepping back from the situation before he can't, and to build his emotional vocabulary so that he can talk about what he's feeling instead of clamming up or lashing out.  Which all sounds lovely, and exceedingly difficult bordering on impossible, but I'm trying to chat him up about it at home, too.  The teacher is also concerned that some of the other kids have figured out how to make Carl mad and are starting to do it for sport, or to get him in trouble...even though they're friends, which sounds a little like what his sister does, even though she's his sister.  

As for the grade skipping, the teacher seemed to think we should go for it.  She says his writing might not be completely second grade, but otherwise, he's a year ahead, he doesn't seem to see himself as a first grader at all, and she worries he'll be lonely when all his third grade pals move on to a new class next year.   

Tomorrow, I’m hosting a big ol’ coffee for people who might do some work on that fundraising gala, which means I’ll be spending the evening cleaning the house, baking muffins, and snapping at my family.  I think Rod is having a little geek party on Sunday, along with his Girl Scout meeting, and then the kids are off Monday.  I am toying with the idea of taking the kids around the neighborhood to clean up trash in honor of Martin Luther King, which would make it a tradition, since it’s the third time, or we’ve been invited to a party to make packages to hand out to the homeless guys at the intersections around here.  Really, could things get any more exciting?  

 

Merry Christmas from the Family*

I just thought I should check in.  We’re fine.  Christmas (and poor Rod’s birthday) was very good.  Santa came, we are rolling in an embarrassing number of presents, we reveled in moments of wonder, awe and holiday spirit. We ate a lot, drank a lot, shared the joy, loved each other and generally felt luckier than ought to be allowed. 

And yet, it’s Christmas as an adult: Even the sweetest parts have their bitter undercoating.  I was sick and sleepless the whole week before Christmas, and really, I am still not quite out of it. I gave the virus to Rod; he seems a little less sick than I was, but he still sounds awful.  During that week, I spent a lot of time and energy trying to make things festive, partly for the kids, partly for me.  Partly, I succeeded; partly, I didn’t.  And it feels like I lost nine days in the frenzy and now I'm trying to pack two weeks of vacation into one. 

I find, too, that I miss my old tribe.  It just seems wrong, it being only the four of us on Christmas Day.  My in-laws are averse to holiday travel, for which I don’t blame them at bit.  My dad would love to see us, but he’s far away and long remarried, with another set of schedules to juggle, so we don’t have every Christmas together.  And at holidays, I miss my dead mom, my dead grandparents, the dead uncle and the dead aunt and all those cousins, and even the relatives I can’t quite figure out how I’m related to.  It wasn’t that things were so perfect back in the day when it was a given I would see some large fraction of them all at holiday time, but it was a kind of built-in celebration system and bonding opportunity, and it evidently set my expectations for what Christmas is supposed to be.  It could be worse: my sisters got stuck doing the working spinsters thing alone together this year, for instance.  And yes, we could have hit the road and imposed on someone, but it just wasn’t feasible, schedule-wise or money-wise this year.  Sigh. You don't know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone….my life really is a series of pop music clichés, people.

Now in Holpineville we’re getting ready:  planning for the New Year’s Eve party we nearly always have, even though (or maybe because) I hate New Year’s Eve; getting some PTO stuff ready to go, because school starts right away after New Year’s and the spring agenda is packed; wrapping up some year-end bills and paperwork and cleaning out some long-term household messes.  Carl is nearly done assembling his Christmas Legos (all five big sets) and Rod is obsessively printing giant Lego minifigures (or would that be, Maxifigures?) on that damn 3-D printer with some silver plastic Ruby lovingly bought him for Christmas, just for fun and to make the kids happy. I’ve also given him a list of things to fix around here, and I think he wants to brew some beer, and did I mention, he’s not feeling so hot?

 

 

*Beloved local-color holiday song traditionally sung each year at our friends’ Christmas Eve caroling party; a wonderful mish-mash of hymns and popular songs and kids and dads volunteering to play piano, guitar, recorder, tambourine, maracas, and sing solos…it was glorious as usual this year.   If you celebrate Christmas or Hannukah, I hope you had a moment or two of transcendental joy and peace, too. 

 

Not Jolly Yet

I keep trying to think of nice happy things to tell you, but I’m just not in a good mood lately.  I’ve never been medicated for depression or anxiety or anything else, but there have been times it might have been a good idea, and it’s possible this is one of them.  I’m neglecting my sweet husband; the kids alternate between the extremes of marginal parenting (Clearly Raised by Wolves, or, Hopelessly Overindulged by Helicopter Mom); I don’t exercise, eat right, or sleep enough; I am completely unprepared for Christmas or the end of the fiscal year; the house is a mess even by local standards; no knitting or reading or anything else is happening; and I’m not really getting my all-consuming PTO work done, either.  In short, I’m not coping well in any of my life’s roles and my hair is falling out (seriously, it is, big time, and I don’t know why.  To think, I was worried about Rod’s scalp showing through…)

Things are going on, however, despite my mood.  Rod is busy at work because he'll be off while the kids are on vacation (yippee!) and he is completely obsessed with his 3-D prototyper machine when he’s not.   A friend of mine refers to her husband’s hobby as “that goddamn guitar,” and I am beginning to relate to the sentiment, if not use the same tone of voice.  Rod’s even got Carl interested now:  he taught Carl how to use Google Sketch Up, and then they made some of Carl’s designs.  Carl had to do a special project for school about Hawaii, and they came very close to making a 3-D poly-lactic acid model of the whole archipelago. 

When he’s not doing that, Rod is still busy.  He humors me, mostly, during this phase of depressive angst of mine.  He rescued a friend from a plumbing disaster and is fixing the oven that had the nerve to break on me last weekend.  He deals with these kids who live here.  He took them both shoe shopping last weekend.  What they came home with was not what I would have bought in terms of size, style, quality, type or price, but I was spared the trip and the stress and arguing that always ensues when I do it.  He is doing a fine job as Girl Scout troop leader:  he organized a super-fun pottery-making meeting, he recruited some new members, he went to a long training class, and he’s taking a pack of girls camping this weekend (yeah, right before Christmas, what’s your point?). 

As for Ruby, she’s been very busy.  She’s had a lot of sleepovers with one particular friend, which is nice, but she’s having a hard time expanding her list of buddies beyond that.  She has been making things:  remaking t-shirts by chopping parts off and adding embellishments, and sewing very basic patternless clothes—a tunic for Carl, and a polar fleece holiday dress for herself. 

Ruby was a spur-of-the-moment shepherd in the Christmas pageant at a friend’s church.  It was great; the show was outdoors, with a real camel and a choir and everything.  Ruby did fine, but she was disappointed that the live goat she was supposed to tend got rowdy at the last minute and was removed from her care. 

Under the influence of an animal-crazy friend, Ruby decided that she wanted to get a class pet for school.  In Montessori, class pets are encouraged as a way to teach children responsibility, respect for living things, biology, etc.  But in practice, some teachers just don’t like having them and don’t do it after an initial try or two.  Ruby’s class didn’t have one, and I suspected that was per the teacher’s choice.  But the teacher said it would okay to have fish, so that’s what Ruby got.  It’s a little female betta named Pearl, with an enormous and over-decorated tank that Ruby and Carl and I had a big cranky fight about buying, and the poor tortured fish has been back and forth to school three times in two weeks already. 

Carl is growing again.  His hair is longer and his clothes are too small.  He had one of his best new buddies sleepover last weekend, which was really fun.  His teacher says he’s doing a little better at getting his work done at school, and she’s having a hard time keeping ahead of him in math, because he’s moving through the curriculum so quickly.  He’s had the second grade homework the last couple of weeks, which does seem to challenge him a little.  He got in trouble at school yesterday for something, but I’m not supposed to know about it; the principal only said she made a deal with him that he could be the one to tell me about it.  And so naturally he hasn’t said a word, and therefore I don’t know what happened.  Frustrating little twerp he is, sometimes.

What else?  We got a Christmas tree, and it only took two weeks of boxes strewn all over the house to get the decorations unpacked and up.  We went to some parties last weekend.  I have done no shopping at all yet, and I thought I had time, but suddenly everyone is telling me it’s the very last minute and ack! Ack! Ack!  There won’t be much shopping this weekend, though, because Rod and Ruby will be Girl Scout camping and Carl has only a limited tolerance for that sort of thing.    Out of town relatives:  look for a nice Memorial Day gift, okay?

As for me, well, last week there was a teacher appreciation luncheon and a PTO Mom’s Night Out, and the school book fair, and a bunch of other lesser meetings.  This week, I have a newsletter to write, two PTO meetings to host this week, two “winter performances” to attend at school, a budget issue to resolve, and so on.  Tomorrow morning is the groundbreaking for a huge park/renovation project at school, for which we need only raise to another $100K or so, preferably in the next three weeks.  I used to do a lot of event planning for work, and I am going completely crazy from the lack of planning that’s gone into this groundbreaking.  Apparently we’re just all going to show up, and someone will have fancy shovels, and we’ll play it by ear.  I will have anxiety hives by then—there’s no timeline!  No script!  No props!  What if it rains?! Of course, everyone else involved thinks I’m a little kooky for worrying about that stuff.

I have to get some presents for the teachers and staff by tomorrow, and I have to acquire food for the kids to take to their class parties, and I have to go to a big deal committee meeting this afternoon, and I have to help Ruby pack for camping, and, and, and.  

All I really want is vacation…time on the sofa with a book or a movie or some knitting, a little holiday spirit to creep in.   Which it will, but I had hoped to be there by now.  It’s taken me three weeks to write this for you, and I see that it’s not very good.  I promise to come up with better material, once I make it through Friday.  

 

I Just Can't Wait

There’s a special kind of magic in the air…because somehow, the stars have aligned and the energy is flowing and there is (almost) NOTHING on the official family dance card this weekend.  It’ll change, of course.  Ruby has a project to work on, and Carl wants to have at least two capital-B-full-of-beans-BOYS over for a sleepover, and Rod will be anxious to spend quality time with his 3-D prototype thingy, but just the concept of glorious free time gets me happy.   

And then next week, once I make it through the school Turkey Parade and Thanksgiving Feast, there’s a long weekend, too!  No one invited us anywhere for Thanksgiving, and I have been so partied out lately that I made it clear to Rod we were not hosting anything, and I was leaning toward pizza and a video for the big day.  But then some friends asked us over, and I gleefully accepted and now I need to figure out appetizers and kid food and a really awesome veggie.  Yay.    

You’ll be happy to know that Ruby’s wart has been pronounced gone, with luck for good.  I also took both kids to the dentist, and by some miracle, there were no cavities.  Carl has mysteriously broken off a big chunk of one baby tooth, but as long as he’s not in pain, we’ll just wait for it to age out of his head.  As for Ruby, the visit-to-the-orthodontist countdown clock is ticking away at 18 months to two years.  The dentist said some orthodontists might start right away in her case.  However, she says the situation isn’t dire, and starting sooner would probably just turn a two year project into a four year project, so we’ll wait for the last eight baby teeth to fall out.  Good news, although I did have a little mini-freak out about paying for that, and her occupational therapy, and the sorry state of her college fund, which God willing, she will need in a mere eight years.  I really wanted to order some new yarn this week (yes, for my extensive collection of unknitted yarn), but I resisted and I guess I need to keep on resisting. 

What more?  The TMJ is mysteriously 90% better, which might explain my happy zippy mood.   I had a bunch of meetings this week, so many I had to miss a couple others due to scheduling conflicts.  Rod is working really hard at work.    

 

Seven

That’s how many loads of laundry are sitting around the living room, waiting for someone (well, it’s nearly always me) to fold them. 

Today I am tired, though not as tired as I was earlier in the week, and I have a bonus cold, and a TMJ flare-up, which means my face hurts and I can’t close my teeth together properly. 

I must also say that I have misplaced Carl.  I believe he went home with a friend, because I had talked with Friend’s Mom about a play date this afternoon, but we never really firmed it up, in my view.  Friend’s Mom is one of two or three people on the continent without a cell phone, and they’re not home, so I can’t be 100% sure.  

To start to recap some of the things I wrote about last time:

Rod and I had a conference with Ruby’s teacher.  She is very nice, but oddly reserved and hard to chat with.  I think she may have Asperger syndrome or something.  Anyway, it seems that Ruby is turning in work appropriate to her grade level and despite what Ruby says, she seems to be keeping up pretty well.  She asked to be moved up a few notches on the reading comprehension work, and was, with apparent success so far.  The teacher thinks Ruby understands the math well, but is terribly unconfident, and that, combined with a slightly lower than desirable score on the first benchmarking test for the big state standardized test, got Ruby into the math tutorial group.   We will just keep on plugging away at those multiplication and division facts and trying to make her see that she really does know how to do it.  The teacher also noted the same thing I have, that Ruby has a terrible time finding and correcting her own mistakes, but she had no brilliant solutions for this. 

We asked about some accommodations that had been promised earlier in the year, but not yet provided – typing and handwriting instruction, for example—and the teacher is supposed to follow up, but I am not holding my breath.  I got Ruby’s spelling tests back; at best she scored 4 out of 20, and usually only about 2 out of 20.  The teacher explained that she corrects the tests, but doesn’t use them in calculating Ruby’s grades, as per our agreement with the school.  Again, we said we’d just keep trying.

We talked about some social problems in the class; two kids’ moms have told me about distinct episodes of bullying, and Ruby has made some comments about the class and certain older boys in it, as well.  Plus, she just generally doesn’t feel like she has friends in class yet, which concerns me and makes Ruby less interested in going to school.  The teacher says that it’s hard to police the bullying because kids do stuff behind her back, and they’ve had a lot of class meetings and discussions about behavior and how to treat each other.  The perpetrators have been dealt with, apologies have been made,  parents involved, etc., etc.  She says they’re now on a zero-tolerance plan in terms of handing down discipline.  I am only partially happy with that answer.  I think they need to work on team-building and group unity, at a minimum.  The teacher is going to try to encourage Ruby to buddy up with one of the other girls in class more, so maybe they’ll get to be closer friends. 

I asked about curriculum: what they were doing for science, writing, social studies, etc.  Ruby likes to read, but the school reading assignments  are all “SRA’s” and “RFUs” which are basically fragments or essays about which you later answer questions.  Don’t they ever read books?  I asked—like a novel, and then discuss it, or even write a book report?  No, was the answer, which depresses me greatly, even though I hated book reports, myself.   Sorry, kids: no art, no music, no literature for you.

So Rod and I walked out not much better informed than when we walked in, and not feeling  better, really.  I can see why Ruby’s depressed about school sometimes:  a big list of not-terribly exciting tasks to complete, in an environment without a close friend but with some potentially-mean boys, and always  with this extra burden of trying to convert phonemes to graphemes or ideas into words when the circuitry to do that isn’t necessarily there in her head. 

At occupational therapy two weeks ago, the therapist offered some constructive criticism of a paragraph Ruby had written, and Ruby didn’t take it well, which I think surprised the therapist.  Ruby is usually so sweet, after all.  Last week, Ruby brought in her spelling list and they worked on it a little bit.  Apparently Ruby threw a bit of a fit, just a little taste of what we get at home, and the therapist remarked that she gets it now, about the homework tantrums. 

On a happier note, Ruby’s musical performance went well.  Carl got to be in the show and play the xylophone, and two of Ruby’s pals did, too.  She’s working on a Christmas composition now.  And, she loves her drumming class.

I will update you on Carl, and the Festival!  And the Bake Sale!  And the Reunion!  Later, after I find Carl and face the eternal dilemma of What the Heck are We Having For Dinner.