Crazy Lazy...Or Just Crazy

To say I’ve been lazy would be an unfair statement. Yes, I’ve been neglecting my blog but I’ve had good reason. Apparently, the school board over planned their extreme weather days for this school year so there are days left over. Instead of letting the kids out of school a few days early they have decided to give them shorter weeks and longer weekends until summer vacation starts. That means that my normal Friday morning posting is interrupted by having to, you know, do parenting stuff.

All and all, May has just been crazy so far and it isn’t over yet that’s for sure. School and scouting are both coming to a close for summer. My daughter has had her weekends jam packed with things to do for scouting. Her troop has been spending their cookie earnings on all sort of different activities for the girls. They were able to go to Nations of Fun which is this Chuck E. Cheese’s sort of place. While the kids played, I ran around snapping pictures as usual.

Later, one mother was telling me about the problem the place used to have with pedophiles. I was like, “Oh great! You tell me this now! I was chasing kids up in the climby-thing with my camera. No wonder I was getting dirty looks.” Of course, it may have to do with the fact that I’m white and the place is run by the Comanche Nation.

Who can really know?

Another place we went was to Build-A-Bear Workshop. I had never been there before and I wish I could have stayed away. Imagine if you will a small store in a mall filled with at least twenty little girls between the ages of 3 and 12…squealing, giggling, whining. My anxiety was on red alert! Visions of Xanax and beer danced in my head.

The concept of the store is clever. You personalize your own little stuffed animal for a retarded amount of money. I wish I’d have come up with that ingenious idea. Each girl received a $50 gift card to spend, compliments of the cookie money profit. My daughter picked out a gray cat. She wanted a black one which she was going to name Darth Vader but since they didn’t have black she got a gray one and named it Elizabeth after her Aunt Liz. I swear one extreme to the next.

The toy was $16 all by itself. That price included the stuffing, a heart to go inside, and a birth certificate. However, the store is filled to the rafters with clothing and accessories for your furry friends.

You could choose to have your “friend” say something. For instance if she wanted hers to purr, there were small sound pouches you would slide into the toy before it was stuffed and when it was squeezed it would make the desired sound. OF course, there was a hefty $10 charge on that. You could also get a beating heart instead of the one that came with the toy…another $5. I managed to talk her out of these by telling her that she wouldn’t have enough money to get the clothes and accessories she wanted. It didn’t take much prodding at all.

Next we moved on to the clothes and such. She ended with this sparkly cotton candy-ish dress, complete with shoes, a crown, and even a septor. After she dressed her toy and ripped off the price tags, she found a Darth Vader costume! She didn’t have enough for it. I must have asked her at least five times, “Are you sure you don’t want to look around the whole store first before you make up your mind?” She decided that since she had already decided to name it Elizabeth she had to dress it like her REAL Aunt Liz.

Then she informed me that we would just have to come back another time so she could create Darth Vader. Oh…of course. Lucky me!

The troop also paid for the girls to attend the science museum in Oklahoma City.

We had gone when my parents visited so I didn’t feel too bad when we left a little early. My son was staying over at a friend’s house and I didn’t want him to outstay his welcome. So we dipped out around 3:30pm. The drive back is like an hour and thirty minutes.

My daughter also received all of her patches she earned for this year. I’m going to have to consider getting her a vest. Her sash cannot hold all of the patches she managed to snag this year.

The girl scouts hooked my son up as well. As a thank you for all of the hard work he did during the cookie sales, they gave him $20 AND a $30 Wal-Mart gift card. I told him next year; maybe he won’t bitch as much.

To reward my daughter and the other western Oklahoma Girl Scouts who sold 600+ boxes of cookies, we were invited to go to a local camp for a day of fun.  Yours truly actually acquired a tan.  That's right!  I am no longer pasty white, of course, you don't want to see my ass but at least my legs aren't glowing anymore.

The kids were able to go on a scavenger hunt throught the camp.  The camp pool sprung a leak a few days before so we weren't able to go swimming.  There was a massive lake but the kids were only able to wade about knee deep in it...better than nothing, I guess.

I managed to snag some good nature shots while we were out there too.

Everything hasn't revolved around Girl Scouts.  The kids' school held their annual carnival which happened to be the same day as the girl child's girl scout awards.  I allowed the boy to go with a friend and I'd meet him there.  Upon arriving, I discovered that he was the lucky recipent of a two liter of freaking Mountain Dew. 

I gave him a WTF look and his response was simple, "But I already opened it!" 

How convient!

My daughter played a few games...then she spotted...the...horses.  That was it.  We spent the rest of the carnival riding the My Little Ponies over and over again.

Later that night, I allowed my son's buddy to stay over.  Throughout the night, I found my sleep being interupted by loud video games and such to which I would scream from my bedroom, "GO TO BED!"  In the morning, I found the ENTIRE bottle of Dew was gone!  I'm sure the boys had pinwheels in their eyes for most of the night.

Still to come in a later post…the boy’s crossover ceremony from cub scouts to boy scouts, his promotion ceremony from elementary school to middle school, the last day of school, the beginning of the summer, AND most importantly the rapture…yes, the rapture.  Don't worry.  My little agnostic slice of a blog will still be here on Sunday.  I'll be preparing for the zombie apocalyspe.  I made sure to call my hypo-Christian mother to tell her goodbye.  I've got to get my ducks in a row.

So you read it here first…all of my bullshit excuses for neglecting my blog.  However, lucky for me Scott still loves me and I'm off now to read his zombie post, followed by a pity party for being left out of this.

Oh and just in case Doug wants to be a smart ass again and has any snarky comments about forgetting to post my bowel movements...here you go...

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.

Creepy Crawlers

Her scream could be heard all the way in the kitchen. My daughter came running and yelling about a tarantula in the bathtub. I had never seen a real life tarantula in the wild…or my bathroom before. I grabbed my camera. This is what I saw.

NOT a tarantula but a scorpion. Since it was so close to the drain I decided to turn on scalding hot water and try to drown and flush it down the drain.


Due to the design of the drain, the scorpion didn’t actually go down. I grabbed the tweezers and decided to pick the little bugger up by the tail. When I did, it came crawling up out of the drain with its tail raised and it pinchers poised ready to fight me.

Behind me, I heard a buzzing noise. I turn around and there was a freaking yellow jacket in the sink. I ran out the bathroom. My heart was racing. I scooped up the bug spray from under the sink and proceeded to drown the beast with the poisonous stream.

This isn’t the first time we’ve gotten icky creepy crawlers around our property. Apparently, Oklahoma should be referred to as Buglahoma (thanks, cuz).

Once while washing clothes, I went to transfer clothes from the washer to dryer and I stumbled upon this crazy zebra looking beetle. My reaction was just to let out a scream and my hero Super Deuce came running. I managed to snap a picture of it just as Deuce turned it into a scene from a horror movie.

You my boy, Deuce!

Another thing around here that amazes me is the size of the freaking grasshoppers.

They are enormous AND they fly and give me the heebie jeebies. The thing I hate most about them is their unpredictability. They jump. They fly. These things are usually done in my direction which makes for humorous entertainment for those around me as I scream like a little bitch and flail my arms as I run. The only other insects that can make me act this way and give me the willies are:

a.) Cockroaches…the flying kind (also called palmetto bugs, water bugs, etc…depending on where you live). I prefer to call them fucking gross!!

b.) Junebugs…those flying brown beetles that hang out on your screen door at night usually when your porch light is on. These always seem to fly at my face.

A few times I’ve seen praying mantises. It was interesting seeing the looks on my children’s faces as I explained their violent mating rituals. My son declared that he was glad he wasn’t a mantis.

Every so often in the Sooner state *gag* amongst the mile long snakes and the insects large enough to run away with a newborn, you will see something as cute and cuddly as this little guy.

Rabbits roam our neighborhood, eating your plants and leaving little pellets of evidence all over the place. This little bunny was hanging out on my porch. It was small enough to fit into the palm of my hand. You can tell by looking at the bricks how tiny it really was. The problem?  The poor thing was spotted by my daughter. She brought it spinach to tried to coax it into her clutches. When that didn't work, she just went balls to the wall and reached out and grabbed the poor little bastard. It proceeded to thrash and scream! Yes, scream!

I had never heard a rabbit scream before. I had heard they could but had never had the pleasure. It managed to get away and it ran towards the neighbors (just like his mommy taught him...lol) and wedged itself between the city garbage can and the fence.

The dogs are going ballistic at this point, both mine and the neighbors. My daughter wanted me to capture this poor little “suburban” woodland creature. I tried to explain that I don't want to move the garbage can for two reasons:

1.) I don't want the furball to get caught in the wheel.

2.) I don't want it to freak out and run under the fence to certain death. Either way, I would feel bad because who really wants to see the demise of a cute “wittle bunny wabbit”.

These explanations, while making sense to me, were not enough to convince a 7-year old Elmyra Duff wannabe (remember Tiny Toons?) that the sheer existence of this tiny rodent relative was more important than her need to hug it and kiss it and love it forever. This minor disagreement brought on tears and pouting and the declaration that I am, yet again, the worst mom in the whole wide world only second to child murderers such as Andrea Yates and Susan Smith.

Needless to say, I ended up having to send my baby girl to her room along with her tears, tantrum, and attitude where she fell asleep soundly dreaming of places where mommies let their little girls catch bunnies and Skittles really do come from rainbows. Hopefully, when she finally woke up Bugs Bunny’s love child will have moved on to greener pastures.