I Ain't Skeered!

Don't worry.  You're children are safe.

This agnostic mom goes on a lot of adventures and I manage to get myself into some awkward spots.  The latest adventure involves me agreeing to be a co-leader to my daughter’s Brownie Girl Scout troop.

…

Yeah, I’ll pause so you can soak that in and say a prayer, light a candle or do whatever it is that you people do when you want to save a child’s soul.

…

Over the weekend, I was able to go on an excursion to Oklahoma City for an overnight training session.  I knew ahead of time I would be staying at the Catholic Pastoral Center.  I joked with my friend, Julia that I’d probably be struck by lightning or something.

We were assigned to our room.  It was still daylight but the hallway was sparsely lit even with the glass exit door and sidelights at the end of the way.  The room had two twin size beds with white linens and your grandma’s quilt.  There was a small desk with a set of towels and a few bars of soap.  In one corner was am old sink with a mirror above it.  In the other corner was a closet with a hideous metal chest of drawers inside of it.  Between those two was a doorway that led to the bathroom that we shared with the other room.  The highlight of the room was the depressing crucifix on the wall.

I'm sure under that white paint is some pea soup stains.

Yes, I said it.  Crucifixes ARE freaking depressing.  Why on earth would anyone want to look at that gruesome image all day long?  I suppose that the symbol is to remind the flock of the sacrifice that Jesus made but c’mon.  Isn’t that picture of him looking all pretty just as good?  Doesn’t the faith remind you of what he did every Sunday?  Or at the very least the cross itself minus the dead guy seems like it would get the point across.

I get it.  Some people believe he died for them but the dead guy image is still just a tad disturbing.  If a mother died in childbirth, how appropriate would it be for her child to mount something on the wall of the dead mother all sweaty and bloody in a hospital bed.  Or should said child just wear a golden uterus? 

I’m convinced religion makes you weird.  Period.

To prepare myself for this adventure, I watched The Exorcist, Rite, The Exorcism of Emily Rose, and The Last Exorcism.  I told Julia it was just in case she got possessed and I needed to be able to exorcise her.   I believe in being prepared.

GAH!

Anyway, back to the retreat…

Before everything started, Julia and I made a sweep of the building taking mental notes of which hallways looked the creepiest.  It seemed that the wing we were in was the oldest.  It had a musty mildew smell that crept into your nose and then Chuck Norrised you in the throat.  As we trekked down hallways, we found a room full of books for the clergy such marriage, marriage counseling, being married to a homosexual, and many more interesting topics.  I looked for one on exorcism.  No luck.

There was a wine tasting.  We were limited to two taste tickets which resulted in me trying to hustle more from anyone who would listen.  Eventually I just bought a bottle of Pinot Noir from the wine vendor and proceeded to create my own evening itinerary in my head.

What?  I was thirsty.

The first day wasn’t too bad.  Dinner was catered.  It was decent, nothing fancy.  We attended a class that was roughly two hours long and we got Girl Scout “swag”.  I love free shit and the majority was actually useful.  We were able to have our room switched to one on the upper floor in a different wing where we had our own bathroom instead of having to share with the room next door. 

Ok.  Maybe I was zapped by some lightning in the ass.  I guess I've got so much cushion, I didn't even notice.

Later, we had a meeting with other ladies in our area in one of their rooms.  She managed to snag herself a suite complete with a sitting area.  Wine bottles were uncorked making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.  It was nice.  It made my surroundings more tolerable.  After the hen house party dissipated and we went to our rooms, Julia and I decided it was time to be…

Wait for it…

Ghost hunters.  Yes, bad ass mamma jamma ghost hunters!  So we roamed the hallways with our cameras snapping pictures of dark hallways,

This was snapped with no flash.  Many of the hallways looked like this.

old lady furniture,

This decor was scary all by itself.  All it's missing is a bowl of hard candy from 1952.

creepy staircases,

This was with the flash.  Apprently, they were conserving energy by turning off most of the lights.

and each other acting like total morons. 

I ain't skeered!

At least I'm not the only one not afraid to make an ass of myself for the sake of fun.

All the while I was humming the 007 theme music.  Our mission was to go down to the basement which ended up being completely disappointing because it looked just like the rest of the place only the mildew reeked more than the upper floors. 

See?  Rain.

Outside it was storming making the dark hallways all the more delightful many times reminding me of scenes from the movie Gothika. 

We were lucky enough to learn that a few days after us the Legion of Mary Ass would be using the facility.  We found the letter “M” for “mass” on the floor under the board.  I snapped a picture and Julia fixed it. 

There's a legion in there.  Poor lady.

It seems my interesting humor does not go unnoticed because the next day I found out that everyone in our group assumed it was me that made it that way in the first place.  I’m shocked.  Blame the heathen. 

After we returned to our room, we were overcome with a craving for a slushy…a yummy, delicious, icy slushy.  I looked out the window over the rooftops at the pouring torrential rain and turned to Julia and said, “It’s just misting.”  I must have been pretty convincing because within minutes we were creeping downstairs.  We discovered the lobby gates were pulled down in the same fashion as a store in the mall would to protect its wares.  We found the nearest exit.  We were smart enough to check the door to make sure they didn’t lock behind us.  The downstairs door leading outside would have locked so we decided against our slushy adventure.  Boo!

How sad...

Before bed, we checked under each other’s bed…you know, just to be sure.  The beds were so much tinier than I am used to.   I had to be mindful so I didn’t fall out of it when I moved around in my sleep.  At one point during the night, I was tempted to flip the cross over just to freak Julia out in the morning but I decided against it.  Some people just don’t get my humor.  When it comes to religion people tend to get a little uptight.

6:30 in the morning is just an ungodly time for any sane person to be awake.  At least they fed us.

Breakfast of Champions!  Word!

What makes it even worse is sitting in a three hour lecture listening to shit that is basically common sense.  The speaker actually insisted on leading us through guided imagery.  I nearly fell asleep.  I thought it was a horrible, HORRIBLE idea considering she was attempting to take some people back to when they were eight.  There were actually women crying around me.  All I could think was someone is diving into some dark ass memories.  I’m not playing that game.

Do what you have to do to pass the time.

Sometime during all this mind numbing boringness, my partner in crime Julia says she is “going to the bathroom” which was code for “I am going to the other conference room so I can find out what next year’s mystery cookie is”.  A few moments later, I get picture mail from another lady in the next conference room asking if I’m missing someone.

Three hours!  That’s how long the first class lasted.  It was torture.  It felt like the part in the movie Zoolander when Derek Zoolander is held captive at the “day spa” by Mugatu who subjects him to extensive audio visual torture...only I wasn’t lucky enough to actually watch something.  I got to listen to some woman drone on and on like Ben Stien’s character from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only person bored stupid.  When I went to the bathroom at one point, I saw a girl on her laptop playing World of Warcraft.  Later an older lady tripped over the laptop cord causing a big scene.  Too bad it was AFTER we sat in there for most of the morning.  It would have been a welcomed diversion halfway through when I was on the verge of chewing off my own arm just to entertain myself.

You know it's bad when you can't get up.

We attended a few more sessions, which by comparison were only 30 minutes to an hour so they went by stupid fast.  When four o’clock rolled around, I was itching to leave.  The drive home was interesting.  Someone and I won’t name names (Julia) kept falling asleep.  Good thing I was driving or we may not have made it home. 

Word!

Now I’m back in my part of Oklahoma where the wind comes sweeping down the plains just to ass rape my hair.  Let’s recap for my believer friends out there.  Everyone’s favorite agnostic mom stepped foot on holy ground and my feet didn’t sizzle.  I was not struck by lightning nor was an exorcism necessary.  Although there were a few times when I could have sworn some of the popes in the large portraits lining the hallways were totally checking me out.

In unrelated news, I should point out to my readers (and any potential readers out there) it’s summer.  Don’t expect too much from me.  My kids keep me busy and we got a lot of traveling in our future.  I’ll be around.  You've been warned.

Summer Can't Come Quickly Enough

Twenty seven more days until school is out for summer. I’m completely mixed about it. On one hand, the thought of not having a break from the kids is a little terrifying especially since my husband is deployed. On the other, this school year has been such a merciless headache that summer may just be the relief the kids and I need.


In the beginning of this school year, I was really struggling to get my son on track. He was being completely lackadaisical when it came to his schoolwork which caused his teacher to request that he be tested for ADD and ADHD. It not only turned out to be a false alarm but the tests showed that my fifth grader was reading on an eighth grade level. These results didn’t shock me but it did make me proud that there was now proof that there was nothing wrong with him. On the inside I basically chanted “Ninny ninny boo boo!” and “I told you so. Now shut the fuck up and teach my kid!!!”

Although his grades were improving, his dislike for his teacher became more and more defined. Many days the boy would come home and as soon as he would walk through the door he would began ranting about how awful his teacher was. We would sit down and discuss it. I would try so hard to help him see her side even though I was grappling with some of her ways myself.

He’s expressed to me that he feels as if she is always picking on him and singling him out. I explained to him that he is partially to blame. He gave her such a hard time in the beginning of the year that she now has her eye on him all the time. So now if he farts crooked, she’s going to know about it. It’s not fair but that’s the way the cookie crumbles, little dude. I told him the best thing to do is to stay off of her radar and the way to do that is to not give her ammunition. Trying to convince him to work harder and keep his mouth shut and his nose clean is like trying to convert the Taliban to Christianity.

Little by little I am finding out that this teacher’s way of solving the problem is by separating him from the rest of the class. At first I thought this consisted of her having to sit him next to her desk or something like that. That doesn’t bother me but I’m discovering through more and more conversations with him that she is sitting him outside of the classroom; I’m talking in the hallway or in the empty classroom next door. My concern is how the hell are you teaching my child if he isn’t even in your class?? I don’t understand how this can be helping his grades.

Yesterday, I went to speak to the guidance counselor. I expressed my concerns about the way the boy has been feeling in regards to how he is being treated. I explained to her that I am noticing a shut down on the horizon and I didn’t want it to affect the improvement he has made so far. I asked if she would maybe talk to the teacher and explain to her the affect that her style of discipline is having on my child.

The only reason have not gone to the teacher myself is I don’t think I can remain calm. Let’s face it. If you haven’t noticed my “mother bear” is showing. My child feels picked on and I’m ready to defend him. I don’t think I can talk to her without being very confrontational. Another reason I felt the need to bring a third party into the situation is simply because if this teacher truly is “picking on” my kid, I don’t want matters to get worse for him.

I also asked the counselor to talk my son. It concerns me how angry this has made him. When we talk about his school situation, you can see the fury in his eyes as they well up with tears and he clenches his fists at his sides. I thought maybe if the counselor tried to help him understand the teacher’s stance a little better, it would help. She agreed to have a conversation with him.

Later that same day was the last straw. He was late coming home. When I questioned him as to why, he said that she made him sit in the empty classroom next door. Since he was being punished when the bell rang he didn’t get up. He figured she was going to come over, lecture him, and then dismiss him. Apparently, this wasn’t his first rodeo.

When she didn’t come to speak to him after a few minutes of waiting, he said he peeked around the corner. She was sitting at her desk on the computer. It seems that she actually forgot that he was there. This infuriated me to no end!!! I called the school. The counselor answered the phone. I let her know what had happened and she advised me that I should meet with the principal. Hopefully, I’ll get a meeting soon and I keep reminding myself that this is all almost over.

Butterflies in My Stomach

I have a feeling sleep will not be an option tonight. I am so anxious! The butterflies in my stomach have butterflies. Around 6 this evening I got a text from my husband letting me know that he was waiting to leave Dubai to head to London. His flight in Dubai was delayed but he said he should still make the connecting flight in London to Dallas. I REALLY hope so!! Once he gets to Dallas, he will have just one more connecting flight to get him home to me.


The scavenger hunt is still a go. I’m going to try to video tape it because family and friends want to see the kids’ faces when they see their dad. I will have to see if the camera holds a charge long enough for me to accomplish that. I can always use my phone as back up for pictures and video. I’m just not sure how well all that works…or HOW it works for that matter. I’m still learning.

Unfortunately, I need to go camera shopping. I brought the camera into the battery store to have the battery checked because it didn’t seem to be holding a charge. Of course, the battery needed to be replaced but also found out that the actual port where you plug in the charger is loose and that is also causing the camera not to charge properly. The new battery would run me $40 and the external charger (where you actually place the battery itself inside to charge) would also cost $40. I ended up passing on that because I can get a brand new camera for a couple hundred. It would be stupid to put out $80 for a camera that is over five years old.

Since I’m wired anyway, I am browsing my blog stats. Some of the things people search for on the internet can be disturbing. What’s more disturbing are the things that occasionally lead them here. This particular post has gotten my blog so many hits with people out there in cyberspace searching things like “big ass butt plug” and “red butt plug sex toy”. Someone out there has even searched for “words containing ‘-tastic’”. Apparently, people out there are also very interested in meth and that leads them here as well. I assume it was this post that lures them in.

Also, the universe hates a lot of people because many folks are searching for “the universe hates me” and since the universe hates me most of all, they find themselves here.  My contribution to Time Travel Month also came up in the search results for some.  I'm sure it's because I used the line "This is heavy, Doc." as my title.  “Streaming dad and daughter love” got someone here. I’m not sure WHY or what post reeled them in but I’m sure I don’t want to know what they were really looking for but I can assume they were disappointed.

The topic that seems to bring people here the most lately is this post. People want to know about Lancey Ray’s trial. I know I do. I have searched for information myself and have seen my blog show up in the search results. I’m ready for that man to be buried under the jail.

He’s a monster and his wife should be sentenced right along with him for not only not protecting her child but also participating in the beatings that eventually got so out of hand they took the life of a young boy who my son describes as funny and smart.

I guess I can also share this with anyone who finds themselves here because they are searching for information about Lancey Ray. In my latest search I did find that Lancey Ray is actually the adult son of a school superintendent in Social Circle, Georgia. You can read the article here. I will keep updating as I find more.

One last thing before I go...my daughter has sold 575 boxes of cookies. Just 25 more until she reaches her goal.

Now I am going to end it here. As I said before, don’t be surprised if you don’t hear from me for a while. My honey will be home and I plan on being VERY busy.

I'm About To Lose My Mind...Up In Here!

This school year is going to freaking kill me!


I spoke to my son’s teacher, Mrs. T, today.  I am very glad I had the weekend to simmer down. I was able to speak very calmly to her about the whole ADD issue from Friday.

After speaking to her, I feel she is genuinely concerned about my son. She said she doesn’t want to treat him like he’s lazy if he really does have something wrong with him.

Her side of the story (wait to you see how unlike the boy’s it is)…

She said around dismissal on Friday she noticed that he did not complete grading his paper that they went over in class. She pulled him to the side to ask why. She said he looked confused and she felt that he really had zoned out during the review time. She also said he does this a lot. He’ll go off to la-la land and stare off into the distance. She said she has also seen him doodling numerous times.

My take on this is simply he is bored. When I’m doing something I don’t want to do or something that is boring my mind drifts too. It’s all I can do not to impale myself on the nearest sharp object. I also think that another factor is he has a tendency to be lazy as all hell when he doesn’t want to do something.

I don’t see how a kid that can play video games for hours or take a 12 hour car ride or sit through a movie or even sit quietly and read a book can have ADD. I just can’t! Of course, I’m no expert either.

Mrs. T also told me that when she spoke to the boy she asked him if he was or ever was on medication. He told her yes but I don’t know if he really understood her. He’s never been on any type of medication that treated mental or behavioral issues. All he’s ever taken (other than over the counter stuff) is allergy meds. When I told her this she kind of hesitated. I think she had thought she had hit the nail on the head with her theory.

After I got off the phone with her, I decided there was only one way to solve this. I called the pediatrician to find out if patients are automatically tested for things like ADD or if it something that has to be requested. I figured if it’s automatic they could check the charts for me. Wouldn’t you know it? Nothing is that simple.

I was told that I needed to contact the school counselor to request a Vanderbilt Assessment. Apparently, this assessment has a part I fill out, a part the teacher fills out, and then we see the pediatrician so he can evaluate. I figure, we do this and one of us has to be right. If I’m right, he’s bored and sometimes lazy. If Mrs. T is right, he has a problem that is beyond his control without the proper treatment. Either way, something needs to change for him because the route he’s going is going to lead him straight back to the fifth grade.

For the record, I do NOT believe in pumping my children up with medication for the hell of it. I will try whatever other forms of therapy are available and use the zombie meds as the absolute LAST resort. I think if he can learn how to cope with it and we can understand it better we will know how to help him along, so he can help himself.

Can someone say stress????

Another fun moment today was after school. My daughter came through the door all by herself. I asked where her brother was. She informed me that she waited for him for “like a half an hour”. I made it clear that it was impossible since school only dismissed ten minutes ago. She has no concept of time (or money but that is a whole other story).

At this point, I knew my son would be panicking when he couldn’t find her. So, I grabbed my shoes and headed over to the school. I needed to find him so he knew she was safe. I tell you, they fight like cats and dogs but they look out for one another.

As I got about halfway to school I saw my son coming down the street with my daughter’s teacher, Mrs. Pony (that’s not really her name but it fits her). My son was smart enough to let Mrs. Pony know when he couldn’t find her.

My daughter said she figured since her brother was sick yesterday, she assumed he had gotten checked out when she didn’t see him right away at dismissal. I told her if ever I check either of them out, I will always have the office notify the other one. Also, I told her she is NEVER to walk home alone. I told her I would come up to school to get her. She’s seven and she’s cute and I can’t help but fear the perverts of this world. Better safe than sorry. Too bad I can’t find a fairy godmother to do the whole Sleeping Beauty spell on her. Damn fairytales!

Whew! I’m glad today is over. I need to catch up on some cleaning tomorrow. I’ve been listing so much crap on eBay I’ve neglected a few chores. I’ve got to get back on track.

Friendships Wanted, Not Needed

Six months I've been here and I'm convinced no matter where you move people are either crazy or boring or both.  Making friends has never come easy to me...maybe I'm a snob.  If I think someone is a bore and/or a lunatic, I will go out of my way to keep my distance.  For some reason though, these people are drawn to me like bums to bus terminals.
It doesn't matter where I am, the check out line at the grocery store, the gas pump, or an airport bathroom, these individuals will talk to me and divulge the craziest things to me.  At first, this entertained me.  I felt complimented in a sense that I must put these people at ease in a way that they feel comfortable telling me about their issues.
Let me interject here.  When I say "crazy", I do not mean someone diagnosed with mental disorders.  At least when these people do something out of the ordinary, you can empathize.  No, I'm talking about these folks that seem to eat, sleep, and breathe drama.  I'm referring to those people that seem to go out of their way to invent problems just so they have something to entertain themselves.  To these people I say, find another hobby!!
Anyway...
For a long time (probably the first twenty or so years of my life), I didn't have any rules or regulations for a person to be my friend other than you couldn't be a total asshole.  I would talk and befriend anyone and it would remain that way until they did something to piss me off.  As time went on and my family and I relocated to Fort Hood, these lackadaisical stipulations proved to be more time consuming than previously anticipated. 
With deployments and loneliness running rampant throughout the base, spouses clung to different forms of companionship.  I chose the safe, platonic route.  At first, it was nice to have the company of other women.  I felt a bond with them due to our similar circumstances.  Little did I know the drama that would surround many of these females like the dust cloud that hovers around Pigpen from Peanuts comics.  Like I said, at first this entertained me.  It was like watching an episode of Jerry Springer or Maury Povich pan out right before your very eyes.  I wanted to grab a bowl of popcorn and sit back and enjoy the show.  That was until these loonies began including me in the craziness.  It was at that time I had to step back, take a deep breath, and say "Fuck. This."
After the military, we headed back to our hometown in New Orleans area on the good ol' Westbank which by the way was only supposed to be temporary.  It, unfortunately, turned into nearly two years.  During that time I stuck to the handful of people I knew who where a.) not boring, b.) not crazy, and c.) trustworthy.  Seriously when I say handful, I literally mean like five people, nearly half of which were family members.
On more than one occasion people would tell me how they didn't understand how I could cut myself off from others so easily.  I don't really see the problem.  Why should I befriend people who I don't really enjoy being around?  What?  Just so I can say I have oodles of friends??
Now we are in Oklahoma and I must admit I am a little lonely.  However, I'm not lonely enough to resort to being bored to death just for the sake of company.  I also will not participate in their drama just to be entertained...they have reality shows for that.   Also, I can't stand liars.  Furthermore while I believe fully in freedom of religion, I cannot be around someone who feels the need to "save" me.  I must be able to be myself 100% and the truth is I curse like a drill sergeant and I am completely random ESPECIALLY after a few drinks which I look forward to consuming at least one a week if not (and hopefully) more.
As you can see, I do think it's wise to have a hobby.  Everyone needs something to occupy their time.  So as for me, I'm going to blog my own thoughts and try to avoid falling into the same old habits.  Truth is, loneliness is a bitch and as much as I'd love to move into a cave somewhere, we both know it isn't going to happen.  So in the meantime, I'll keep my fingers crossed that one of these days in my trek around Texhoma, I'll actually come in contact with someone that can hold an intelligent conversation with me that doesn't involve gossip and rumors.  I won't hold my breath though.