. . . than to say I have laundry under control. Seriously. Just when I think I’ve conquered it – BOOM!! – the laundry pile is suddenly a mountain that threatens to come crashing down on top of me if I don’t start up the washer pronto. I know it’s never-ending, so why the heck I said it’s under control is beyond me. I know better!! 🙂
I think I’ll start of new category of “I should know better …”s. I’ve got a bunch of them! I’m a smart gal, at least in some areas, but sometimes I do make the same mistakes a couple of times. The laundry comment is minor, yes, but let’s see what else I can come up with. What about you? Anyone want to share their own “I should know better” moments? Names can be change to protect the humiliated. 🙂
When you think of pest, you probably think of a student, but in our case, I think it’s my son’s teacher. He’s been complaining that she’s mean. A few students have even cried, and these aren’t kindergarteners, they’re 5th graders — Kiddos who are used to the school routine. Except when your teacher is an intense 25+ year veteran teacher. Normally I’d be grateful for an experienced teacher, but in this case, I don’t think experience weighs out. I haven’t figured out if it’s just her personality, that she’s just abrasive, or if she’s burned out, or if it’s both of those and maybe more.
All I know is my normally happy-go-lucky little man has been stressed and anxious, and even crying at the thought of going back to school each day. I called a meeting with the teacher and the principal, and I left having mixed emotions. She’s definitely intense, and wanted to steer the focus of the meeting to what she wanted to talk about. Definitely an overbearing personality. We agreed to weekly phone calls. Last night was the first of those. I can’t say I feel any better about the whole situation.
And she threw in a verbal slap in the face, saying she had heard that my son wanted to live with his dad. I know for a fact this isn’t true, but what I don’t know is if she said that strictly as a jab, or as retribution for calling her to the principal’s office, or if she was digging for information. Doesn’t really matter. What I do know, is that as a mother and grandmother (as she told me she was) she knows full well the power behind her statement. Shame on her. I see thru her comment, but how many other parents has she wounded in her 25+ years of teaching. Multiply that times ten and we might have a low-ball estimate of the number of students she’s traumatized over the years.
How is it that this woman still teaches? I’ve been trying for a year and half to get a teaching job and haven’t had any luck, but here’s this hateful woman interacting with innocent children on a daily basis. It boggles my mind!
I’ve typed up an email to the principal outlining all of my concerns and requesting that my son be transferred out of her class. I haven’t sent it yet, but I did send it to my ex-husband who was also in the meeting. I want to see what he thinks about it, and I want to let it sit for a day. I’ll look at it again tomorrow with fresh eyes and see if anything needs to be added or taken out.
It’s a stressful situation. It’s so hard to see your child in misery. So hard to drop him off at school each day knowing I’m sending him into such agony. I know the school has a policy of class assignments being final, but in this case I think they have to make an exception. He’s not focused on learning, and he can’t have a year of this level of stress. I may be in for a battle, but they’ve got this mother hen riled up.
Life is a funny/amazing/complex/convoluted/wonderful thing. A gal I work with has gone on maternity leave and could very well at this very moment be laboring to deliver her baby girl. I told her the other day that I wasn’t sure what it had been like for her, but it seems like her pregnancy has flown by. And now baby girl is on her way. Such exciting news and I’m so happy for her. This is the 2nd child for her and her husband. They have a toddler also, so once her 12 weeks maternity leave is up, she’ll be returning to work just two days a week. I have to admit a slight pang of jealousy. Not about the two day a week work week, but yes that would be lovely too, but I remember those days at home with my son. Such fond memories. I’m so thankful to have my son, but I always thought I would have more children. It hasn’t worked out that way, and there are moments when I grieve for what could have been.
Then reality smacks me in the face with a reminder to be grateful for all I have. I work for an insurance company and today one of the groups I handle notified us of the sudden, unexpected death of an employee who wasn’t even 40 years old. I started gathering the necessary paperwork for her family to file a claim on her life insurance, and the enrollment form she had signed was dated exactly one year before the day she died. To the day. It gave me chills.
We have no guarantees. Babies are born, people die. That’s every day’s business. When we’re born a few people rejoice; when we die a few people grieve, but in either scenario the world keeps moving. I guess the big decision is, How do you choose to fill the in between?
Since summer is just getting underway, I can’t really write my end of the summer essay, but I thought I should start planning if I want to share something interesting a few months down the road.
- First and foremost, I plan to enjoy the week-long road trip family vacation that my son & I will be taking with my parents and my youngest brother. I’m taking a week off of work, so I’m determined to enjoy every minute of it! It will either be really fun, or by day two I’ll be wondering what I got myself into. We used to go on these road trips when I was a kid, and we’re actually repeating a trip we made way back when. (More to follow in future posts, so stay tuned!)
- Spend some time relaxing at the pool with my son, and doing other summer-time adventures too.
- Find a different job. This could be a blog post in itself and probably will be at some point. But for now, suffice it to say I’m bored to tears and need something different. Don’t get me wrong: I’m happy to have a job in this economy, but I would be oh so happy to find something else and let someone else do my job who might appreciate it more.
- This one’s related to #2 in that I hope to find a job in Texas so we can move back there this summer. We haven’t lived there since my son was a baby, and as much as I enjoy where we are now, it would be great to be back near my old friends and be closer to my family. We’ll see if that’s the case after our week-long road trip. 🙂
- And last, but definitely not least, is to get my writing project underway. It’s long overdue, and if not now, when?
Gee, a list of 5 isn’t that intimidating. They actually seem like do-able tasks when they’re spelled out like that. Granted, some of them are pretty involved, but with focus and concerted effort . . . just might work out.
I’ve figured out why I’m not getting as much sleep as I should. My “eureka!” moment came the other morning when I woke to see a man standing near my bedside. We were practically face to face and he was staring with a fixed expression, his hand reaching out to me. Of course I was surpised, and you may be wondering if I screamed or called for help or how I managed to get this man out of my bedroom or house. He’s still there actually, but don’t be alarmed . . .
Apparently my son thought my Eiffel Tower lamp needed a tourist.
My kiddo and his little jokes. Love his sense of humor. I recently bought a cast iron gnome for our flowerbeds, but I’ve yet to put him outside so he’s standing in our living room. The other day I noticed his ears look a bit different than when I brought him home.
Not sure how the kiddo came up with that one, putting erasers on the gnome’s ears, but now our gome looks a little more elfish with those ear extensions. What will my little practical joker come up with next?
Wow, this one really has me feeling like I’m four steps behind the rest of the world. I read a little blurb in a women’s magazine (Allure) about a new trend. You know how bling’s the thing? Well, apparently you can bedazzle your vajayjay. The article also mentions “facials” for the vajayjay, better known as vajacials, but that seems pretty tame compared to getting vajazzled.
Where have I been? Or a better question, where would I go with this? Or should I not be going out if I’m not vajazzled? What kind of glue or adhesive is suitable for that area anyway? Don’t answer. That was a rhetorical question. 🙂 Sometimes I feel like I’m living in the dark ages.
This evening my son and I went on a walk, a really long walk. He was on his bike, and I walked our dog. We were gone for an hour and a half or two hours. He’s such an outdoorsy boy. Tonight I got to see what a big, compassionate heart he has.
We were on our way back home when he told me he was going to ride ahead and then come back. He got too far ahead of me though, and I couldn’t see him, but I finally caught up with him and I could see his chin quivering. My first thought was that he must’ve fallen off his bike. I asked what was wrong and he said he saw a dead bird. We had seen a dead bird when we were walking to the park earlier, so I assumed that’s what it was.
Later, back at our house just before he was going to bed, he said he saw a big black bird pecking on a smaller bird and the smaller bird was bleeding. He tried to shoo the black bird, but it kept coming back, so he searched around for something to throw at it. When he came back and threw a stick at the black bird, he said the injured bird died right in front of him. He cried. He was so upset, and said it reminded him of Ollie, one our cats, when he died about a year ago.
My sweet little son. So heartbroken over the loss of that small little life. So tender-hearted that even the pain of a little bird makes him grieve. It’s a small ripple, but life is altered when you realize the nearness of death. As a parent, it’s hard to see my child hurting, but at the same time, I’m proud of his compassion & caring.
Flowers for the little bird