3
November

It’s a gift

Yesterday, I took a day off.  I had my voice lesson in the morning, and we hit a small brewery in Ventura for lunch.

Then we headed for the beach. We stopped at the beach in Summerland, just south of SB and spent several hours walking and vegging. Not many people on the beach, and while it’s not my favorite beach–I’d have had to drive all the way to Pacific Grove or Moss Beach north of Half Moon Bay–it’s quiet, and that counts for a lot.

Spent a lot of time staring at the incoming waves and enjoying the single goose (because I can’t believe an egret would indulge in such behavior) belly surfing on the receding waves and then diving under the incoming ones and letting them wash him closer to shore. Repeat.

I also loved watching the large group of godwits poking beaks into wet sand to feed. But by five, I was ready to leave and we headed home to a dinner and a movie.

I should do this more often, although today I am tired and unable to con myself into finishing the schoolwork I have to do. And Monday will be tense when I have to pull it all together at the last minute. I also disappointed one small child, who mournfully told his/her mom that it was Mrs. Sisolak’s birthday on Friday, and she didn’t want to spend it with him/her.

Still, it was an excellent start to the latest decade, and I saw the old one out by soloing at St. Max on. I guess my goal for my sixties is to terrify myself regularly–and prove to myself that I don’t fall flat on my face in doing so.

I discovered my brother in Stamford, CT actually texts–and provides more information that way than in a regular phone call. He did call last Sunday to say goodbye, just in case, and when I texted him to see if he was still alive, he typed his fingers to pieces. (Relatively. His infrequent emails are one and two liners.) Mom said he spoke an amazing twenty-five minutes to her, so the storm had more of an impact than we thought. :P

In not so happy news, Harley’s symptoms reappeared this week, and we’ve upped his meds.

 

 

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29
September

Someone’s never too old to learn a new trick

But first.

When the priest at the house blessing begins by recounting the three houses he blessed in Ireland that were each struck by lightning within six months of said blessings, you have to wonder what the heck he did to piss off the big guy.

And then we all stared nervously at Paul, the current resident of the condo to be blessed.

No lightning strikes. Yet.

As for new tricks…

I set my dinner on the table and then fetched the mail from the entryway buffet eight feet away.

In that minute, Harley leaped upon my chair. I turned just in time to see him snatch half of my pork from my plate, and arrived too late to retrieve said pork from his toothy grip. After swallowing most of it in a single gulp, he returned to beg for more.

Hell no.

Moral: Tuck in the damn dining room chairs around here. Obviously he’s been practicing while he’s been home alone the past three weeks.

Also, I’d say he’s feeling better.

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7
September

Conversations

1.
Me, upon catching sight of my necklace around Daughter’s neck: Uh!
Daughter: You never wear it.
Me: How could I? You’ve had it. Give it back.
Daughter: I always wear it with this shirt.
Me: You can wear it with that shirt and then put it back.
Daughter: But I have lots of your jewelry that you haven’t even noticed!
Me: Then give it back!
Daughter, walking out the door: I will. Someday. Maybe.

Obviously, I must find her stash of my jewelry while she’s gone.

2.
Unidentified teacher: Do you think I should send X to the office?
Me: What did X do?
UT: Kicked a parent. Twice. And then called me a b*tch.
Me: Send him to the office. Immediately.

(I get paid extra for these kinds of decisions. :P)

3.
Me, sipping my wine with birthday celebration group after a hellish week: We really need to do this weekly.
Teacher friend: AT LEAST.

I am not the only one living in hell here. Just sayin’.

4.
Me to small child: Wow. That is amazing that you can do a perfect headstand like that. I am really impressed! But I can’t have you doing headstands here at school, because you might accidentally kick someone when you got back on your feet. Who taught you to do that?
Child: My dad.
Me: Amazing. You could work in a circus.
Child: *happily skips off*

This child reminds me of the Eldest Child when he was five. I suggested gymnastics to his mom this morning because he needs the physicality. Now if I can only get him to focus like that on his class work.

The good news: my math lesson plans (online, and in the appropriately-formatted boxes) are done.
The bad news: It only took me two hours. I cannot wait for the LA lesson plans to kick in.

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24
July

Adventures on the 405 and environs

As usual, the freeway is in process. They’re widening it in the pass between the 101 and Sunset Blvd. They could be widening it further down, too, but hey, I was grateful to get off on Sunset.

Or I was. Until I realized they were messing with those on- and off-ramps, too. Enough so that I turned right instead of left like I should have. And then I was stuck in a line of traffic winding its way under the freeway overpass and onto the freeway on-ramp that returned north.

At a crawl.

Which meant that the line I was in took ten or twelve stoplight sequences to get onto Sepulveda. And then I realized with horror that I had to get out of the left lane to turn around, because oh, no! I was not heading north in all that mess!

Turn around accomplished. Now I was only ten minutes late to camp.

Fine.

I zipped back to Sunset (completely discombobulated by the construction and certain I did not want to go there) and beyond. The road led back under the freeway and onto Sepulveda again. Many streets later I realized I was at Wilshire. Too far. When I hit Santa Monica Blvd, the right turn lane to the freeway was packed. I did not make it across Santa Monica Blvd. for seven extremely loooooooooong lights. However, it did give me the chance to call camp and find an alternate route.

Once somebody answered the phone, that is.

So I turned at the next major intersection that had an underpass, zoomed down the road to a street I knew would go through to Santa Monica Blvd., zipped down Santa Monica Blvd. to 26th, and made my way back to Sunset.

Getting to camp was a breeze after all that. It only took me an additional fifteen minutes.

Sadly, the entire part where I avoided the whole freeway thing? An additional hour.

The return home took two hours: fifteen minutes to the detour freeway on-ramp, thirty minutes on the 101, and an hour-plus from Sunset to the 101–a distance of approximately seven miles.

Let us not mention the several motorcyclists with death wishes, including the guy who would wave his hand at drivers to make room for him to pass.

Last I saw, he still had a hand.

But this is why I so rarely drive in LA and avoid the 405. It can be 3A, and that so-called freeway will be bumper to bumper at a near standstill.

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5
June

What I will never ask another small child again

Me: So, you have a bird! What’s your bird’s name?

Small Child chirrups: F*cker.

Me, blinking and fumbling for words: Uh, wow. That’s–that’s really not a very nice name for a bird.

Small Child: My grandpa calls him that all the time.

The bright side is that this particular child doesn’t quite pronounce /k/ clearly, so no other kindergartner caught it. Whew.

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2
June

The charming patter of little feet

is not improved when they walk all over you.

Morning came too early.

Tonight they get the box. That was determined by the presence of a so-called gift on the stairs this morning that I did not see until it was too late.

I did not bring everything home with me to finish as I had thought. Half our day is spent going to Glendora and back, another third will be to head out to friends for the evening, and my report cards are still not done. Though I tried.

I tried.

Life still sucks quite a bit. The bright news is that I got my remaining partner permission to move to the vacant classroom next to me. (So apparently my principal REALLY likes me.) Since she’ll be teaching the transitional K’s, she’ll appreciate the extra space.

I should go check on the little monsters. Baxter could be fed and happy enough to destroy another couch. He certainly had enough fling in his step all night to get on and off the bed a bazillion times.

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15
May

Thankful. Kinda sorta. Mostly.

When it comes to the Eldest Child and his proclivities for danger in myriad forms, I am always impressed when I happen on an activity he hasn’t tried yet.

Like a BASE jump in a wingsuit.

I would like to credit him with common sense, but I fear it’s more related to finances.

When it comes to the Middle Child, I will be ever thankful that he is the voice of reason in the world.

This is especially true when there is a film crew on his camp site for an upcoming reality series: Are You Tougher than a Boy Scout?

(Short answer: No. Don’t even try.)

But seriously, the things the film crew has come up with in terms of ideas (unscripted) that are just plain stupid. Like asking my dil to drink river water after she agreed to play a victim. Giardia, anyone?

No one has ever dropped these producers into the wild, have they?

In early warning news, both boys have decided to take down a pine tree on the hill this week. Stay tuned for disasters. It’s a honking big tree.

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3
May

My body: Wow. You haven’t been sick since… *checks calendar* December! Time to give it a go!
Me: Uh… I have a meeting. Two meetings! And I have those spreadsheets I have to fix, and I have that test I was going to give the kids today, and….

3A: One eye glues itself shut with gunk. The other eye decides it’s a good deal and joins the first.

Me: Arrrgghhhhh!
MB: No, no, don’t thank me. You really needed a day off.

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20
April

The week in short

MTWTh: OMG, OMG, Open House

Thursday evening after Open House: OMG, OMG, zoo trip

Friday: OMG, OMG, zoo trip!

Teacher, indicating unidentified dripping child: Zie’s wet.
Unidentified child, indicating zie’s entire right side: Only half of me is wet.
Other teacher: Obviously we taught the concept of half well.

Friday night, me, while at the wrong restaurant sipping a margarita: Where IS everyone?

Friday night, at the correct restaurant, imbibing another margarita: OMG, zoo trip! Thank gods it’s over.

Small kindergartner who enters restaurant as I am drinking: Mrs. Sisolak!

After the family corrals child and keeps him at the table, he continues to raise his hand to speak to me.

Friday night, home: I didn’t know we were pruning the back hedge today.
Spouse: Neither did I. Surprise!

Eldest child, lowering the extension ladder: Mom, get me a beer?
Me, watching the pruning shears slung over a rung of the ladder he is now lowering and planning the lengthy explanation to the police as to how someone got stabbed in the head with said pruning shears: EEEEEEEEEE!
Eldest child: Oops. Forgot they were there.

He continues lowering the ladder.
Me: Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Me, nabbing the last Anchor Steam and checking clock: Is it bedtime yet? No? Damn.

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7
April

Spring break: Dawn of day 2

Not My Favorite Dog: Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom.
Me: *groan*
NMFD: Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom.
Me: *pries open one eye and closes it*
NMFD, sensing my alertness: MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM.
Me: Oh my god. *grabs dog and flings him onto bed* GO TO SLEEP. *resumes reclining position*
NMFD: *puts nose in my face* Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom?
NMFD: *puts head on my pillow and pants into my face* Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom?
Me: I GIVE UP. *gets up and feeds dog, even though it’s oh-dark*
Me: *runs back to bed and pulls covers over my head*
NMFD: Mom?
Me: I fed you.
NMFD: Mom?
Me: Hells bells. *flings dog onto bed again, then hides under covers*

Silence.

I doze off.

NMFD: Mom? You breathing? *noses covers* I CAN’T SEE YOU. YOU’RE DEAD.
NMFD: *walks on me, stepping on delicate parts*
Me: Aaaaaaaaargh!
NMFD: IT’S A MIRACLE!
NMFD: More food? More food? More food? How about now, huh? Huh? More food? More food?

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