Skip to main content

School has started!

Yesterday was the first day school. Here's what this means: Mom gets up and showers before she gets a cold shower. Hubby or I wake up the 13 year old. The 8 year old and the 10 year old wander out bleary-eyed. Breakfast is short-order; some of the children serve themselves while others insist on being served. At the same time I'm making lunches. Understand that no child eats the same thing. One child refuses to eat meat, one child won't touch jam, and one child is so picky that every day is a new adventure. Okay, that's the same one who won't eat jam. Not even homemade freezer raspberry jam (gasp!). As I am scurrying around the kitchen, I'm also yelling orders and asking questions that are really orders like "Did you brush your teeth?" or "Are you going to go to school with that rat's nest on top of your head?" I am also trying to squeeze in drying my hair, putting on my face, and getting dressed. Eventually, we run out of time and we gather for a calming prayer (I said fold your arms and be quiet!) and they are herded out to the van. I then drive the 8 and 10 year olds to elementary school and then on to the jr. high for the 13 year old. Somebody usually forgets his or her lunch or trumpet and there seems to suddenly be something for me to sign or a check to be written. The worst is when, as we're driving and I'm informed it's picture day.


Back home I have approximately 20 minutes to either finish myself up for the day, get the three year old ready, do a load of dishes, fold a load of clothes, or whatever before the three year old and I leave for work. I drop him off at daycare and sometimes have to pry him off my leg. Then comes the most restful time of the day: Work. Okay, that is sometimes true but not lately. We're doing registration which is a busy time for a school counselor.


Today was an interesting day because the three year old refused to take a nap when we came home. He becomes particular and moody. Right now I can hear him ordering his older sister on the way to color.


The good thing about school is that I rarely hear the words, "I'm bored." The bad thing is that I become the policeman and I don't like to be scheduled. I am a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of a gal. That way when the dishes get done I can be pleasantly surprised. When I do the laundry I feel a great sense of accomplishment.

Okay, the "I'm not sleepy" three year old is getting moody again. The ornery mood.

Comments

  1. I will take that extra freezer jam! And if you make me lunches every day and send me to bed for a nap, I won't complain!
    Ahhh, the school year. Are we having fun yet?

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Most Dreaded Words

 Everybody knows that Christmas is about keeping the Santa Secret and pleasing your children. Therefore, the most dreaded words are uttered on Christmas Eve. "I changed my mind, I want a [pony, scooter, bike, Red Rider BB gun]" A close second place winner is, "Can I have a New Year's Eve party?" Then, "Me, too?"

Too Sick to be Sick

I am sick.  Really and truly sick.  I even took a sick day and felt no guilt whatsoever that maybe I wasn't sick enough to have a "sick day."  Because I am.  My 5 year old was sick, too so I took him to the doctor.  I refuse to acknowledge that I'm sick because I don't get sick.  So with absolute glee, my little boy climbed up onto the table, stuck out his tongue and conversed with the doctor.  I heard something about cloudy ears and antibiotics and then I just turned it off. It hurts when sound reaches my eardrums. We drove back home, I turned on the television, brought in the dog, and let the babysitting begin.  I crawled back into bed and swam somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness.  The kids came home from school.  I might have acknowledged them.  I made chicken noodle soup from scratch.  I couldn't even think.  My husband caught me in a sway and asked what he could do.  I grunted some terse instructi...

What We Eat

Check out the good looking crew.  Just to clarify.  I'm the pretty one. There's a little mountain resort in Northern Utah that is invaded every July by this group of people. We are an intimidating bunch. 5 years ago my brother brought his Nepalese bride to the United States.  She lived in a country where she had no expectation to ever drive a car.  She bought her food daily from the market and ate it.  She taught English, although her accent was so strong when she arrived I questioned her grasp of the language.  We tried to be friendly and accepting.  We ended up scaring the daylights out of her. She thought we were crazy.  Her words, not mine. Although I think she tolerated me a little better than the others because I had the brand new fair-haired baby that she continued to steal.  She wanted a blond haired, blue eyed baby and wondered what her chances were now that she married an American. We take turns cooking for the family dinners. ...