Today is International Ask The Internet Day. Didn't you know? Ask the internet, they'll tell you. Or at the very least, I say so. Largely because my folks are leaving today and I would rather go spend their last few hours here with them than tell you all about how well, I was SUPPOSED to go for an MRI this morning, but my SUPER FANTASTIC HEALTH INSURANCE decided not to pay for it. So I decided not to go! I'll show THEM! Because they'll be SORRY when I'm DEAD! Anyway. Internet, my daughter's fourth grade teacher responded to my "What can I do to help?" query by saying, "You seem like you're a...
My office is right off the garage. This exchange just took place through the door between me and them. Me: Why don't you guys leave Otto alone so he can finish getting your bikes ready? Chickadee: We're WATCHING! Me: You're not WATCHING, you're HARANGUING him. Chickadee: No we're not! Monkey: We are NOT strangling him, Mama!
I am trying. I am trying to see and appreciate the good in the folks who are TRYING to help my child despite various limitations, be they the constraints of school policy, understaffing, or their own preconceived notions. Or their own faulty memories. So let's get this right out of the way up front: I love Monkey's teacher. I do. She's a veteran and she has gone out of her way to to do certain things for him even when the school administration has dragged their feet, and despite the occasional interesting spelling (this week's feature: candycorn! all one word!) I think she's pretty good at...
I don't know what it's like when you have more than a couple of kids (Chris?), but when you only have two, there is a very fine unwritten rule to which they instinctively adhere: Only one child can be in crisis at a time*. *The exception to this rule is a direct confrontation between siblings, at which point it is permissible to both run screaming to your mother as if being chased by rabid wolverines, whereupon you will end up drawing equal consequences for squabbling over a pencil with such fervor. Yesterday morning, Chickadee got up on the wrong side of the bed. The side of the bed from...
It is never a good thing when the phone rings in the middle of the day and it's someone calling from school. It is a double plus ungood thing when the phone rings in the middle of the day and it's the principal calling. My day yesterday was going pretty well; Otto and I went out to breakfast, and later Tammy and I went out to lunch. (Yes, that much eating out is unusual for me. Apparently I'm just not very good at spreading these things out.) I was caught up on my work and looking forward to the weekend. And then the phone rang and in very short order I wished I was back in bed. He took his...
One of the things that appeals to me about homeschooling is that you get to decide WHAT and HOW your child learns. Now, I know one of the complaints often leveled at homeschoolers is exactly that, that they can (purposely or not) end up educating their children in an incomplete manner, and whether or not that's true (I mean, I think the majority of homeschoolers strive for---and achieve---a better education than one ends up getting in a public school), at least the parents are doing the selection. Of course, I would never ever in a hundred thousand million YEARS elect to homeschool my kids,...
Chickadee and I have been talking about working on a jigsaw puzzle together as sort of our special girl time project. For whatever reason she doesn't consider all of the things we do together on any given day to count as special time, things like cooking or doing laundry or discussing why none of her jeans fit her anymore on account of she grew three inches this summer or me yelling at her to pick her junk up off the floor. Go figure. So we decided to get a puzzle and set it up in the dining room and try to work on it a little bit every day. The challenge, of course, will be that she wants...
I am already struck with a strong urge to crawl back into bed, which I'm taking as a very bad sign indeed, seeing as how that usually doesn't happen until closer to lunch time. Not even a bowl of grits with bacon salt (bacon salt, oh how I love thee) has perked me up. This is not a good omen. The children are having trouble getting up in the morning, and honestly, short of putting them to bed right after they get home from school, I am out of ideas. Their bedtime is plenty early. They SHOULD be getting plenty of sleep. Maybe they are, and it's just their genetic bent towards morning...
The children, if you must know, are driving me slightly insane right now. Chickadee's propensity for opposition borders on OCD, and I have resorted to all sorts of bizarre methods in last-ditch attempts to modify her behavior. (This is where the people who were JUST WAITING for evidence of my crappy mothering skills hit the jackpot.) In the last month, I have been: charging her a quarter for every time she tells me "okay" and doesn't do what she just agreed to do, banning her from her brother's room (due to her habit of running in there and making a huge mess), throwing away her dirty socks...
