I am a big believer in grabbing the teachable moments in the moment and run with it. I try not to sound preachy or all-knowing because, as we all know, I have not the slightest idea of what the hell I'm doing most of the time. I also don't believe in having "sit-down-let's-talk" moments as when my mom would do that to me it never either (a) felt good to start off with and (b) never really ended well.
However, with this being said I do realize that shit happens whenever it happens, and whatever the subject calls for, I will go with it. One such moment came the other day while driving with my kids in the car; Jillian, 11 and Andrew, 3. I'll spare you the long, drawn out version of the story, but it involved some swearing at the "boss" (who I assure you was no longer on the phone when I started my swearing and rant session). I was in disbelief at the way I was just treated/spoken to by this guy whose ass I was saving on this particular day. I was actually speechless, and in my silence I noticed that neither child had uttered a word. I guess I had turned into a scary mommy at that moment because my kids never are quiet.
Herein presented my teachable moment about education. I know that education will take my kids to places I only hope they want to go and that I hope will make them much more successful than I could ever have dreamed for them. I talked to Jillian about how she needs to remember moments like this when I am unhappy in my job and to use that memory to never want to be like me. I reinforced how going to school for something you enjoy will make a job never feel like one. I can't imagine going to work every day feeling like I am not working. I told her to find and grab and hold onto anything that she's passionate about and turn it into her career. She's currently into her "cake decorating" phase. Hell, who am I to say this is a phase. She could, at this very moment, be doing what I told her to do; grab and hold onto it and run with it.
She told me that she would love to learn how to turn people's ideas into cakes, etc. which turned into us talking about how much fun it would be to not only make these creations but to own your own place and have people working with you. She liked this idea and she told me that she would never even think about treating her "people" like I get treated. Insert the swelling heart moment here. She heard me, she really heard me.
I know there will be many more discussions before she goes off to high school and college and into a career, but it is never too early to start those wheels turning in their minds because I know that it is well before high school that the seeds are planted for their future. My child is a smart child, and I know she will succeed in anything she puts her mind and heart into. I only hope to open up possibilities and never push her away from her dreams, and I hope she believes me and never feels it's corny when I tell her she can do anything in this world she wants to do as long as she's happy.
*cheers my friends*
You can also visit me at Confessions of a Truu Mom
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
My Many Hats
I have held three different mommy "positions" in my almost 11 years as a mom; the stay-at-home-mom (for a too-short 9 months), a full-time office working mom and currently, I am a work-at-home mom. I work out of necessity, and I assure you that those out-of-home working moms are thinking that the scenario of a WAHM goes a little something like this; wake up to the sounds of the birds chirping on a beautiful sunny morning, slip soundlessly into the kitchen and make a fresh pot of coffee, take a few sips, breathe in the air, go lovingly wake up the children and send them off on the bus while you don your fuzzy bunny slippers, sip some more coffee and work peacefully for the next X amount of hours. Please girls this is yet another misconception that the world of movies and books have given all of us. Don't get me wrong at all; I love working from home most of the time. There are the perks such as the most obvious, being home for your children and watching over them like hawks to make sure they stay on the straight-and-narrow (whatever version of that yours may be) and not having to get dressed (and in my case, not putting on a bra) and making your own schedule and blah-blah-blah. There are the cons for sure; no paid sick days, no vacation days, no 401(k), making sure you pay your taxes, and I could go on. Seriously, I'll stay at home then deal with office snarkiness any day.
However, I do invite you into my world for a second of how this particular day has since started. It is 4:00 a.m. and I am having a bought of insomnia. Okay, another perk of the WAHM, I can go downstairs and work while the house is asleep. I slip quietly down the stairs so as not to wake the house until I misjudge the last step and go slamming myself against the wall in an attempt to not twist my ankle. I pause, hold my breath, listen -- I've dodge a bullet. No one woke up so I head to my office where I start up my lap top and get my gear going when I realize oh what the hell, I need tech support. Did I happen to mention it's 4:00 a.m. and you know there is no tech support at 4:00 a.m. It is what it is and I fart around the internet for an hour before I drag myself back upstairs where I don't promptly fall back to sleep because now I'm thinking about having to deal with tech support and how irritating those people are. I suppose I fall back to sleep around 6:00 and when the alarm goes off I feel worse than if I had just stayed awake.
It's time to get those kids up, and I can assure you that I do not sit on the edge of the bed and lovingly caress the hair out of my daughter's face. I shake her and tell her we're late. I'm surprised I don't get greeted with a grunt this morning. Maybe this day won't be so bad after all. It's 7:15 and I have the kids in the car and on the way to drop the big girl off at school when I feel my eyes crossing and I start to wonder how I'm going to make it through everything else I have to do today, and then a thought pops into my head. I'm pretty lucky I think as I could be having to do all of this and get to work on time. I'm suddenly feeling bad for all these cars on the road as most of them must be heading into work on this rainy day. I'm jarred out of my thoughts to my oldest belting out words to a song I know from spin class and I start singing along; "So here's my number, call me maybe..." I look in the other cars and I see no one bee-bopping to their own little pop number at 7:30 in the morning.
I'm rejuvenated and know that I'll at least make it through the tech support nightmare. In fact, I'm positive I'll make it through my entire day, with a countless number of coffee breaks and hopefully not many meltdowns (by me, not the toddler). In the end, it doesn't matter what we do to pay the bills because all that counts is that we are doing the best we can with the cards we have been dealt. I do not believe one has a "better" or "easier" job than the other. We all have the same thankless, non-paying job and we do what we have to do to make our children's lives that much better than our own childhood because, after all, we are all striving for the same thing; the smiles of our children.
*cheers friends*
Visit me at Confessions of a Truu Mom on Facebook
However, I do invite you into my world for a second of how this particular day has since started. It is 4:00 a.m. and I am having a bought of insomnia. Okay, another perk of the WAHM, I can go downstairs and work while the house is asleep. I slip quietly down the stairs so as not to wake the house until I misjudge the last step and go slamming myself against the wall in an attempt to not twist my ankle. I pause, hold my breath, listen -- I've dodge a bullet. No one woke up so I head to my office where I start up my lap top and get my gear going when I realize oh what the hell, I need tech support. Did I happen to mention it's 4:00 a.m. and you know there is no tech support at 4:00 a.m. It is what it is and I fart around the internet for an hour before I drag myself back upstairs where I don't promptly fall back to sleep because now I'm thinking about having to deal with tech support and how irritating those people are. I suppose I fall back to sleep around 6:00 and when the alarm goes off I feel worse than if I had just stayed awake.
It's time to get those kids up, and I can assure you that I do not sit on the edge of the bed and lovingly caress the hair out of my daughter's face. I shake her and tell her we're late. I'm surprised I don't get greeted with a grunt this morning. Maybe this day won't be so bad after all. It's 7:15 and I have the kids in the car and on the way to drop the big girl off at school when I feel my eyes crossing and I start to wonder how I'm going to make it through everything else I have to do today, and then a thought pops into my head. I'm pretty lucky I think as I could be having to do all of this and get to work on time. I'm suddenly feeling bad for all these cars on the road as most of them must be heading into work on this rainy day. I'm jarred out of my thoughts to my oldest belting out words to a song I know from spin class and I start singing along; "So here's my number, call me maybe..." I look in the other cars and I see no one bee-bopping to their own little pop number at 7:30 in the morning.
I'm rejuvenated and know that I'll at least make it through the tech support nightmare. In fact, I'm positive I'll make it through my entire day, with a countless number of coffee breaks and hopefully not many meltdowns (by me, not the toddler). In the end, it doesn't matter what we do to pay the bills because all that counts is that we are doing the best we can with the cards we have been dealt. I do not believe one has a "better" or "easier" job than the other. We all have the same thankless, non-paying job and we do what we have to do to make our children's lives that much better than our own childhood because, after all, we are all striving for the same thing; the smiles of our children.
*cheers friends*
Visit me at Confessions of a Truu Mom on Facebook
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
My Daughter, My Teacher
I've been having a poor me week this week. Nothing looks good on me, nothing really fits like I want it to regardless of how much gym time I put in. I'm self-conscious about my appearance. I'm feeling overly shy lately talking to people. I'm awfully intimidated by some gym bitches, and I don't know why because they truly are bitches and most assuredly shouldn't be. I don't know what it is, but I can say emphatically that I am not happy in my own skin lately. This makes me sad, but I figure I'll "snap out of it" soon -- I hope.
So with this being said I have noticed that my 10-year-old, almost 11-year-old (gasp) daughter is the exact opposite of me lately. She unabashedly belts out tunes in the car with the windows rolled down while waving to people smiling and singing. When I ask her what she's doing she tells me that she is just seeing how many cranky or not cranky people there are on the road. This causes me to chuckle as I think everyone on the road is cranky, but I'll be damned if she doesn't get at least three-quarters of the people to wave back at her. She also got "dared" by her friend at school to wear her lop-sided ponytails out for the rest of the day and that day we just happened to go out to supper. She proudly wore those ponytails and I loved her extra in that moment for not caring what people thought. I would like to put a disclaimer here that I am never embarrassed by my children and actually was jealous that I couldn't wear my hair like that without feeling like a fool. The other thing she has been doing lately is putting on her best hip hop dance moves in the house and begs me to film her. I oblige because, after all, she's freakin' awesome and can totally bust a move 100% better than me. Again, something I'm jealous of.
So as I look at her in adoration and smile at the innocence, I can't help but feel a twinge of sadness in the fact that this may come to an end soon. I hope it doesn't. I hope she embraces herself for all that she is and makes no apologies to anybody for being true to herself. She is amazing in every possible way, and I just need to learn to embrace myself and love me just as much as she does.
*cheers my friends*
You can always find me by visiting Truu Mom FB
So with this being said I have noticed that my 10-year-old, almost 11-year-old (gasp) daughter is the exact opposite of me lately. She unabashedly belts out tunes in the car with the windows rolled down while waving to people smiling and singing. When I ask her what she's doing she tells me that she is just seeing how many cranky or not cranky people there are on the road. This causes me to chuckle as I think everyone on the road is cranky, but I'll be damned if she doesn't get at least three-quarters of the people to wave back at her. She also got "dared" by her friend at school to wear her lop-sided ponytails out for the rest of the day and that day we just happened to go out to supper. She proudly wore those ponytails and I loved her extra in that moment for not caring what people thought. I would like to put a disclaimer here that I am never embarrassed by my children and actually was jealous that I couldn't wear my hair like that without feeling like a fool. The other thing she has been doing lately is putting on her best hip hop dance moves in the house and begs me to film her. I oblige because, after all, she's freakin' awesome and can totally bust a move 100% better than me. Again, something I'm jealous of.
So as I look at her in adoration and smile at the innocence, I can't help but feel a twinge of sadness in the fact that this may come to an end soon. I hope it doesn't. I hope she embraces herself for all that she is and makes no apologies to anybody for being true to herself. She is amazing in every possible way, and I just need to learn to embrace myself and love me just as much as she does.
*cheers my friends*
You can always find me by visiting Truu Mom FB
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
New Baby, New Baby Smell
My baby niece was born the other day after quite the ordeal, and my sister came out of it a bit ruffled but completely transformed into a mom. I am so happy for her and my brother-in-law for I know they are going to make wonderful, loving parents. I couldn't get to the hospital fast enough to see her, and I'll be honest and say I was a bit salty that just about everyone had gotten their hands on that tiny baby before me, but as soon as I got her in my hands, I snuffled her up just like one of my own. Of course, none of my children were this tiny when they were born.
And so began the instinctive bum patting and the swaying from side to side that I missed so much. Then came the obsessive baby smelling and baby talking and more baby smelling and more talking silly and taking pictures and showing her off (although I have no idea who I was showing the pictures off to since everyone had already seen her). Yes, I digress as usual. I realized I was ignoring my sister, and when I looked at her I could tell she couldn't have cared less. The poor thing was exhausted and my heart went out to her. I also thought to myself that I did not envy this girl at all. I thought about my own first couple of weeks with my son and how I could barely form complete sentences, let alone put two feet in front of the other. I thought about how I made countless trips from my bed to the crib in the middle of the night and how I did, in fact, nod off on my feet quite literally a couple of times before I realized, in my sleep-deprived haze, that it would be best if I just sat down in the rocking chair. I thought about the tears I shed when I couldn't figure out what the cries meant or if he was getting enough to eat.
The list goes on and on of all the things belonging to a new mom that I could share, but I won't because I really don't want to scare her if she reads this, and I know that since there is no handbook to guide us and we just go on maternal instinct, that my sister will be fine. She is more than capable of handling this journey, and on the days she thinks she's doing it all wrong, I know that there will be those moments for her that tell her she's doing it all right. She's so got this. Hell, if I haven't screwed my kids up too bad so far, she's got this in the bag.
*cheers Auntie Jess*
And so began the instinctive bum patting and the swaying from side to side that I missed so much. Then came the obsessive baby smelling and baby talking and more baby smelling and more talking silly and taking pictures and showing her off (although I have no idea who I was showing the pictures off to since everyone had already seen her). Yes, I digress as usual. I realized I was ignoring my sister, and when I looked at her I could tell she couldn't have cared less. The poor thing was exhausted and my heart went out to her. I also thought to myself that I did not envy this girl at all. I thought about my own first couple of weeks with my son and how I could barely form complete sentences, let alone put two feet in front of the other. I thought about how I made countless trips from my bed to the crib in the middle of the night and how I did, in fact, nod off on my feet quite literally a couple of times before I realized, in my sleep-deprived haze, that it would be best if I just sat down in the rocking chair. I thought about the tears I shed when I couldn't figure out what the cries meant or if he was getting enough to eat.
The list goes on and on of all the things belonging to a new mom that I could share, but I won't because I really don't want to scare her if she reads this, and I know that since there is no handbook to guide us and we just go on maternal instinct, that my sister will be fine. She is more than capable of handling this journey, and on the days she thinks she's doing it all wrong, I know that there will be those moments for her that tell her she's doing it all right. She's so got this. Hell, if I haven't screwed my kids up too bad so far, she's got this in the bag.
*cheers Auntie Jess*
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Smiles My Daughter Gives Me
So Jillian left me this week to go camping with her friend, and when I say camping, I mean give me a break because I don't consider being in an RV at a campground which is more like a resort camping, but that's probably just because I'm jealous as hell. I mean why wouldn't I be jealous in all honesty? The girl gets away from me and my loud mouth barking orders at her. She gets away from her brother, and while she adores him, I mean he's two-and-a-half, so come on, no explanation needed there. She gets away from chores and a specific bedtime, and most importantly, she gets to go giggle incessantly for hours on end with her girlfriend. This is the part I am most jealous of if I'm being honest.
Sure, there are the belly laughs I have with my friends when I'm lucky enough to find time to hang with one, but nothing compares to that giggling with your bestie about those inside jokes that you share. I remember my 8th grade bestie and how we rode our bikes all over town during the summer and all those sleepovers we had and all those late nights giggling about all those things teenagers giggle about and bugging my mom to let me go to camp with her one time and the list goes on and on.
Of course, this is not to say that I don't appreciate my adult friendships no matter how much they ebb and flow because the ones I share belly laughs with totally get me and I appreciate them immensely. They are the ones I call to when I need to run away from my mommy-world for a couple of hours just to only end up bitching about my mommy-world over beers or wine or margaritas (depending upon which friend I'm with at the time). These are the few precious moments that keep me hanging onto my sanity ever so tightly.
So as I sit here waiting for Jillian to get home from her adventure I am smiling knowing that this is one of the many memories she's made for herself and that I allowed her to make for herself. Dare I admit that I have, indeed, missed the pouty face of hers and her stompy feet, but I feel like I pulled out my A+ mommy card by letting her go. I just consider this time and the many more to follow as my trial runs for when she leaves me for good, leaves this house for good and makes a life of her own beyond me. I know for a fact that these trial runs will do me no good when that inevitable moment arrives that she doesn't *need* me anymore, but I hope for her sake that I do then what I struggle to do now, let her go.
In the meantime, where the hell is she because I need someone to take out the recycling and sweep the floor. I'm exhausted from doing all her chores this week. Besides, I really miss those hugs and I need one right about now.
*cheers my friends*
Sure, there are the belly laughs I have with my friends when I'm lucky enough to find time to hang with one, but nothing compares to that giggling with your bestie about those inside jokes that you share. I remember my 8th grade bestie and how we rode our bikes all over town during the summer and all those sleepovers we had and all those late nights giggling about all those things teenagers giggle about and bugging my mom to let me go to camp with her one time and the list goes on and on.
Of course, this is not to say that I don't appreciate my adult friendships no matter how much they ebb and flow because the ones I share belly laughs with totally get me and I appreciate them immensely. They are the ones I call to when I need to run away from my mommy-world for a couple of hours just to only end up bitching about my mommy-world over beers or wine or margaritas (depending upon which friend I'm with at the time). These are the few precious moments that keep me hanging onto my sanity ever so tightly.
So as I sit here waiting for Jillian to get home from her adventure I am smiling knowing that this is one of the many memories she's made for herself and that I allowed her to make for herself. Dare I admit that I have, indeed, missed the pouty face of hers and her stompy feet, but I feel like I pulled out my A+ mommy card by letting her go. I just consider this time and the many more to follow as my trial runs for when she leaves me for good, leaves this house for good and makes a life of her own beyond me. I know for a fact that these trial runs will do me no good when that inevitable moment arrives that she doesn't *need* me anymore, but I hope for her sake that I do then what I struggle to do now, let her go.
In the meantime, where the hell is she because I need someone to take out the recycling and sweep the floor. I'm exhausted from doing all her chores this week. Besides, I really miss those hugs and I need one right about now.
*cheers my friends*
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Much-Needed Pep Talk
So I've received a not-so-subtle hint from my mother that she wants to read more stuff from me. So you all can blame her for this one as I can already tell that I don't have much to offer in the way of humor this morning, but who knows as I've been known to surprise myself sometimes.
I'm not really feeling *it* this week. I'm feeling pretty invisible lately; friends, husband, kids (well, kids I guess are a given), just a general invisibility that comes with being a mom working from home I suppose. Hell if I know, as I'm probably just making shit up in my head to justify my mental nature. Everything is just an annoyance to me and this annoys me. So maybe if I stop and think about the things that have made me smile this week it will help shed this invisibility cloak that I apparently have acquired that I never really wanted to have (even though every time I watch Harry Potter I am jealous that it exists -- at least in a fantasy world). Per usual, I digress and so in no particular order here are the things that made me smile this week:
1. Driving in the car with Jillian and singing and dancing in our seats to pop radio (thank you Gail and your spin class music).
2. Having Andrew sit on my lap while he looked at pictures on my phone over and over and over again and laughed at himself and his sister (he didn't realize that my ploy worked -- use the phone to get snuggles out of him).
3. Watching Andrew and Jillian play Just Dance 3 on the Kinect. That alone will get a smile out of the crankiest, PMS-filled, annoyed mother.
4. The highlight of the week was meeting a talented, funny, beautiful woman, Jill Smokler. She has written a book, "Confessions of a Scary Mommy," and you can find her at Scary Mommy to see exactly why this would be a highlight of my week. She won't let you down. She never has let me down, and she is always there when I am in need of a confession or two to make (but I'll never tell you what mine are).
5. Today I will be taking Andrew to Jillian's school for a book lunch. Basically, you bring lunch and a blanket and sit out on the front lawn of the school while all the kids ignore their parents and play with each other. Yes, my *perfect* daughter will be ignoring me, but what makes me smile is that she will be showing off her brother.
6. My mom called me and checked in on me this week, and even though I felt like I had nothing to say, which I didn't, at least she didn't forget about me.
7. My oldest and dearest friend, Bek, checked in on me too this week. This makes me both sad and happy because *I* should be the one checking in on her due to certain circumstances lately, but it made me happy because in all that she has going on in her world, she took the time for me. I need to remember this and pay it forward.
8. Watching Andrew dance the "Hot Dog Dance." If you know what I'm talking about, you see why this makes me smile. If you don't know what I'm talking about, it's okay because it is one hell of an annoying song.
So, it's kind of a short list, but I will try not to dwell on that because I'm sure that list, while shorter than some, is probably longer than most. I will count myself blessed and move on. I don't know if writing this made me feel any better, but it sure did make me sound whiny. I hate whiny. I want to rip by ears of my head when I listen to Jillian whine so I can only imagine that you just might want to rip your eyes off your face reading this. That gruesome thought makes me smile. I apologize for that (not really) ... you guys get me and I appreciate it much.
Now, big girl panties up in 3 ... 2 ... 1.
*cheers my friends*
I'm not really feeling *it* this week. I'm feeling pretty invisible lately; friends, husband, kids (well, kids I guess are a given), just a general invisibility that comes with being a mom working from home I suppose. Hell if I know, as I'm probably just making shit up in my head to justify my mental nature. Everything is just an annoyance to me and this annoys me. So maybe if I stop and think about the things that have made me smile this week it will help shed this invisibility cloak that I apparently have acquired that I never really wanted to have (even though every time I watch Harry Potter I am jealous that it exists -- at least in a fantasy world). Per usual, I digress and so in no particular order here are the things that made me smile this week:
1. Driving in the car with Jillian and singing and dancing in our seats to pop radio (thank you Gail and your spin class music).
2. Having Andrew sit on my lap while he looked at pictures on my phone over and over and over again and laughed at himself and his sister (he didn't realize that my ploy worked -- use the phone to get snuggles out of him).
3. Watching Andrew and Jillian play Just Dance 3 on the Kinect. That alone will get a smile out of the crankiest, PMS-filled, annoyed mother.
4. The highlight of the week was meeting a talented, funny, beautiful woman, Jill Smokler. She has written a book, "Confessions of a Scary Mommy," and you can find her at Scary Mommy to see exactly why this would be a highlight of my week. She won't let you down. She never has let me down, and she is always there when I am in need of a confession or two to make (but I'll never tell you what mine are).
5. Today I will be taking Andrew to Jillian's school for a book lunch. Basically, you bring lunch and a blanket and sit out on the front lawn of the school while all the kids ignore their parents and play with each other. Yes, my *perfect* daughter will be ignoring me, but what makes me smile is that she will be showing off her brother.
6. My mom called me and checked in on me this week, and even though I felt like I had nothing to say, which I didn't, at least she didn't forget about me.
7. My oldest and dearest friend, Bek, checked in on me too this week. This makes me both sad and happy because *I* should be the one checking in on her due to certain circumstances lately, but it made me happy because in all that she has going on in her world, she took the time for me. I need to remember this and pay it forward.
8. Watching Andrew dance the "Hot Dog Dance." If you know what I'm talking about, you see why this makes me smile. If you don't know what I'm talking about, it's okay because it is one hell of an annoying song.
So, it's kind of a short list, but I will try not to dwell on that because I'm sure that list, while shorter than some, is probably longer than most. I will count myself blessed and move on. I don't know if writing this made me feel any better, but it sure did make me sound whiny. I hate whiny. I want to rip by ears of my head when I listen to Jillian whine so I can only imagine that you just might want to rip your eyes off your face reading this. That gruesome thought makes me smile. I apologize for that (not really) ... you guys get me and I appreciate it much.
Now, big girl panties up in 3 ... 2 ... 1.
*cheers my friends*
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Middle School Anxiety for ME!
So I went to middle school orientation last night, and I learned two things; that (1) I apparently need new glasses because the screen was blurry from the back row of the auditorium and (2) I should start on a daily regimen of Xanax now.
I mean it all started out fine with the principal talking about how wonderful the school was and how he felt like his job wasn't a job at all (to which I cry bullshit because you're the principal of 6th, 7th and 8th graders) and sunshine and roses, and oh good, I already can tell I'm going to like this school. Then after he starts talking we go to the assistant principal who starts talking about how this school is a "high-achieving" school, and I'm all like oh yeah, my daughter's college resume is going to look wonderful with painted roses around the word "high-achieving" school. I settle in for a good listen, as good as I can settle into this hard ass wood chair that barely fits my adult-sized ass.
Suddenly, and out of nowhere, I'm slammed straight up in the face with acronyms for which I can't remember what the fuck they stand for now because I'm trying to take notes on my iPhone because fuck me if I'll remember all this shit in five minutes. So we move past the acronyms, for which I will find out later the meanings, to the math, the dreaded math, and how the entire school-based curriculum is being overhauled, and oh would you look at that, it's going to take effect right when your gloriously barely-hanging-onto-math child will be entering the 6th grade. I sit up straight feeling my heart in my throat and get all teary eyed. What the hell am I getting myself into because as the world of homework sits right now in 5th grade, I don't do a damn thing with her, not because I don't want to (well, that) but because I don't have to. She's totally got her act together. I check in with her teacher when need be. She's got a grasp on her math now. She turns her stuff in on time. She's excelling in everything (except math), and I'm a happy camper. Apparently, this is all coming to a screeching halt next year as the math teacher who is speaking up at the podium is speaking in a tone that clearly expresses her own stress.
I sit up straight in my hard-as-brick chair and look around at the other parents' faces. Clearly, from the way I see it, I am the only one concerned about anything middle-school-related. What is wrong with me I think as I look around at all the tarts texting on their phones and the husbands of said tarts are yawning in their seats. I start sweating and panting (or at least I feel that I am), and thankfully, these teachers start talking about the amount of time these wonderful and rainbow-hugging teachers put into tutoring before school, after school and even have classes during the daytime for tutoring. I start to relax a little more when they tell me that they have this new (for me it's new) system at this grade level where every parent has a code and access to the child's grade and homework daily. Ooh yeah, I got this I say, and then I remember how the fuck am I going to remember to check the goddamn program every day when I more often than not forget to change a diaper until I smell shit.
*breathe in, breathe out* I leave befuddled and fumble for the keys to my car as if I had been drinking for the last hour-and-a-half only to be greeted at the door to an excited almost-6th grader asking all sorts of questions and has all sorts of giddy smiles on her face. I look at her like I do about 90% of the time and say, "Jilly, you're gonna love the crap out of this school," and I go grab a wine glass and shakily pour myself some wine and write myself a note to call the doctor tomorrow for that prescription of Xanax that I am going to need pretty soon.
*cheers my friends*
I mean it all started out fine with the principal talking about how wonderful the school was and how he felt like his job wasn't a job at all (to which I cry bullshit because you're the principal of 6th, 7th and 8th graders) and sunshine and roses, and oh good, I already can tell I'm going to like this school. Then after he starts talking we go to the assistant principal who starts talking about how this school is a "high-achieving" school, and I'm all like oh yeah, my daughter's college resume is going to look wonderful with painted roses around the word "high-achieving" school. I settle in for a good listen, as good as I can settle into this hard ass wood chair that barely fits my adult-sized ass.
Suddenly, and out of nowhere, I'm slammed straight up in the face with acronyms for which I can't remember what the fuck they stand for now because I'm trying to take notes on my iPhone because fuck me if I'll remember all this shit in five minutes. So we move past the acronyms, for which I will find out later the meanings, to the math, the dreaded math, and how the entire school-based curriculum is being overhauled, and oh would you look at that, it's going to take effect right when your gloriously barely-hanging-onto-math child will be entering the 6th grade. I sit up straight feeling my heart in my throat and get all teary eyed. What the hell am I getting myself into because as the world of homework sits right now in 5th grade, I don't do a damn thing with her, not because I don't want to (well, that) but because I don't have to. She's totally got her act together. I check in with her teacher when need be. She's got a grasp on her math now. She turns her stuff in on time. She's excelling in everything (except math), and I'm a happy camper. Apparently, this is all coming to a screeching halt next year as the math teacher who is speaking up at the podium is speaking in a tone that clearly expresses her own stress.
I sit up straight in my hard-as-brick chair and look around at the other parents' faces. Clearly, from the way I see it, I am the only one concerned about anything middle-school-related. What is wrong with me I think as I look around at all the tarts texting on their phones and the husbands of said tarts are yawning in their seats. I start sweating and panting (or at least I feel that I am), and thankfully, these teachers start talking about the amount of time these wonderful and rainbow-hugging teachers put into tutoring before school, after school and even have classes during the daytime for tutoring. I start to relax a little more when they tell me that they have this new (for me it's new) system at this grade level where every parent has a code and access to the child's grade and homework daily. Ooh yeah, I got this I say, and then I remember how the fuck am I going to remember to check the goddamn program every day when I more often than not forget to change a diaper until I smell shit.
*breathe in, breathe out* I leave befuddled and fumble for the keys to my car as if I had been drinking for the last hour-and-a-half only to be greeted at the door to an excited almost-6th grader asking all sorts of questions and has all sorts of giddy smiles on her face. I look at her like I do about 90% of the time and say, "Jilly, you're gonna love the crap out of this school," and I go grab a wine glass and shakily pour myself some wine and write myself a note to call the doctor tomorrow for that prescription of Xanax that I am going to need pretty soon.
*cheers my friends*
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