I thought I was done. No more presents, no more shopping. I could go on to plan Christmas dinner. And clean the house. And do the laundry. And get a new couch. Donate the old one. Decorate the house. Plant the dying pansies waiting in the driveway. Call my grand-parents. And my dad. And my mom. And my sister. Wrap the damn presents. And write cards. But no. Nonono. I forgot one. One. And I have to go back to the source of all evil. I'm pretty sure they spawn orcs in that place. Either that or they have a black hole in the middle.
I absolutely refuse to to go to more Emergency Rooms until next year. Note that I'm not asking for too much here. After all, next year is in what? A little more than 2 weeks? After Mr T.'s fracture on the arm it was Miss A's turn this week. She fell from the bars at Gymnastic and fell on her finger. It probably wouldn't have done anything to it if it had not been in an awkward position. But the end result is the same. Or about. One doctor thinks it's broken and the other thinks it's a big sprain. Again the same anyway: her finger is black and blue and puffy from top to bottom. She's got to wear a metal thing to keep it straight while it heals. We have to unwrap the finger and wrap it again every day. Ouch. This can leads to some thoughts on how differently people behave when they are hurt. My son flats out refuses to be cuddled. Well, a little bit maybe but you know, not to the extent that you could tell him that maybe sword play might not be recommended right now. You know. My daughter on the other hand. Dear god. I really think she should enroll in drama. We have gone back to the days of toddler hood people. Now, understandably, it hurts and obviously it is difficult to use the right hand for just about anything right. And so I've been playing the role of Mary Poppins ( who really, I mean, it's just not fair, she just sings and everything goes right; I sing and the cat wants to get out). And that's fine. I was happy to do it. Except. Except. That I think I've been duped. Because when she is wrestling with her brother on the floor she has no problem whatsoever to use her right hand. None. And her brother with the broken arm is flailing about like nothing ever happened. Like a broken arm.
Most people don't think very hard before choosing which side of the bed they sleep on. Seems like a pretty straightforward decision after all.
If you have children, this is a big mistake.
Because when it is Saturday morning ( the first Saturday morning in months that you can sleep in because soccer season is finally over and so there is no game) and it is 7am and one of your children comes in because they went to the bathroom. And they say to the parent closest to the door:
"There is a huge trail of ants going from the front door to the shower in the bathroom."
And you are so so glad that you are not that parent.
I know I said I'd do a post about the rewarding things but that's too funny and I'm afraid I'm going to forget so here it is ( actually it is one of rewarding things of the week anyway ):
This past week was the teacher/parents conference week. That's when every family meets the teacher who is at that time going to give you a report card and talk about the past trimester.
Mister T. and his parents are waiting for their turn at the door. They were actually on time. Nothing short of a miracle. The teacher is late. Huhuhuhu. Laurienna thinks that well, being a supportive parent and all we need to have a discussion about the important event that's about to unfold. Notice that at this time, we should already be in. Mister T. shuffles. He grunts. Then in a very low voice says: " I don't think I'm any good at Algebra." Parents looks at each other. "Well, the grades we have seen seem to indicate that you are actually doing pretty well. Of course the last paper you showed us was, hum, 1 1/2 months ago....?" Mister T. "No, I'm telling you, I make tons of mistakes it's terrible." The parents are still utterly unconcerned. It might seem bizarre maybe but the thing you don't know is that this child has never, never, ever had less than a 3 ( maximum is 4) on a report card. And so far as we have seen ( and we pay attention more than it seems) this year seems to be the same. Laurienna has the final word, something really intelligent, like : " we'll talk to the teacher about it." And in we go. We all settle down after warm greetings. This is the same teacher that mister T. had back in 3rd grade. And we love her. After looking at mister T. with a fondness in her eyes she deploys the report cards. 4,4,4, 3+, 4,4,4. And in other disciplines things like, oh, "outstanding". Parents and teacher are grinning. Mister T. relaxes a notch but I can see that in spite of all 4s in all mathematical areas he is still concerned. I tell the teacher about it. She turns to mister T. astonished and says: " Thomas, you are the top student in the class. You cannot get a 4 in algebra at your age without being actually really good at it!" Then a lengthy discussion follows on the whys and hows he thinks he is not good at it. It turns out it's only really when he is doing his homework that he has difficulties and it frustrates him a lot. How strange. A few days pass. One afternoon, Laurienna is doing laundry and enters the room of mister T. He is doing his homework. Algebra it turns out. He is also watching a music video on You Tube. The sound level would rival the best clubs. He is also talking ( screaming to be heard above the music) to his best buddy on the phone.
I gave him a few hints as to why he might be making mistakes on his algebra. He vigorously denied that any of the above could possibly impair his mathematical thinking and that I was just trying to ruin all the fun in his life.
Hey, so I've been in a foul mood for days and now I know why. I got the stomach flu. Yes, that's why. I heard you muttering in the back row. On the plus side, I've discovered how to shed all these extra pounds from Thanksgiving. I'll keep that in mind for the next few years. Eating half a banana and a spoonful of rice every day for a few days might seem a little severe but there is no question that it worked wonderfully. See, lucky. This is going to be a wonderful holiday season ( see, politically correct blog here. Ahem..), I can just feel it. Lot's of good stuff happened too though. Well, rewarding stuff mostly I should say but I don't have time to tell you anything about it now. Because it's the HOLIDAY SEASON. But no worry, I need an excuse to hide out this evening since my father in law decided to show up. I'm not even going to go into that. But anyway, I'll need an excuse to disappear, right?
The new policy states that all food and beverages that exceed standards for sugar and fat content may not be sold to students during the school day, but can be sold either 30 mns before or after school."
What about idiocy? Still sold in american schools?
