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Archive for the ‘bitching’ Category

Yes, I know I haven’t blogged in FORever (or as my kids say now if it’s something *really* long: five-ever—yeah, my kids are weird). Things with four kids are always hectic. It’s funny that I thought once I had two kids of driving age, life would be so very much easier. Boy, was I mistaken!

But that is the way of a mom, right? You push everything else back for the kiddos. (At least one kid appreciates it and has promised very nice accommodations at a top-notch nursing home when the time comes.) Nyah-Nyah

Still, it’s been months and I am sorry for the absence. Now, cut to THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL … WOOT! Rainbow

And how glad I am that the first day of school was managed and is over! They put #3 child (a sophomore) in Freshman English. I had words. They put him in Soph English but for some inexplicable reason they pulled his Theater class and put him in P.E. I had *WAY* more words (even as a beginning soph, he has already completed *all* the require PE credits—thank you marching band and baseball). He now has tech theater instead of P.E. (I warned him to be careful and nice to the girls in the class—were it not for NSHS tech theater there would be no him, or his bros Winking smile )

#4 child (in jr high—wow) all but melted walking home from school (over a mile in 103° w/ no shade at all—it’s not that far until you add in that dern heat); I felt so bad I will pick him up the rest of the week, at least. He’s deliriously happy. He was pleased with his classes, save the class with the Vietnam Vet who is very strict, he’s worried he won’t cut it. He will and it’ll be good for the kid!

The two college boys (oh, how that hurts to say!) seem to like their classes—so far. I’m not crazy about the books that cost (literally) twice the amount of the class hours themselves. One kid is pretty sure he can find one text book online, which apparently the teacher is okay with, while another one of his classes you have to have a code that comes with the book in order to turn things in. Wow… can’t believe that!

… and DO NOT get me started about the Cluster F#$% of traffic yesterday in front of the schools (which not a one had crossing guards—The elementary really surprised me, you want to make the kids fend for themselves on the first day of school, in uber-traffic?!?)

Le sigh … today is day 2. I will think positive and … To quote Mr. Roarke, “Smiles everyone, smiles”  Smile

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You know when weird things happen… At three the other morning the dog woke me barking. She’d done this several times the past week or so (**see later comment). I get up to basically tell her to shut the hell up and … I hear someone playing basketball at the neighbors.

Did I mention it was 3 AM!?!?

I, as quietly as possible, opened my front door and peered outside. There’s some blond kid-ish looking person playing basketball between my neighbor’s hoop and the one across the street. I ran and woke the hubby and he came to look. We couldn’t decide what to do. On the one hand, a kid should not be out of his house at three in the morning for any reason, but on the other… my first thought was if we talk to him he might mess with our cars (yeah, I tend to over-react as you know). The hubby (who’s clearly been with me too long) was thinking that it could be a ploy to draw someone out of the house to then rob him. (Like I said, he’s been subjected to me for too long)

We dithered so long the kid was gone. No harm no foul that we can do anything about.

The hubby headed back to bed but I was wound up tight and went to watch TV. By my third DVR’d show I was sleepy and it was just after five so I am ready to head to bed and I heard the same noise. Yep, the kid was back at it. Still thinking the nefarious thoughts, I called the non-emergency police number (which I sadly have on hand for numerous reasons) and told them about the kid. It took them fifteen minutes, but they do show up, and he’s still at it. I see them talking to the kid so I ran to my room to put on a bra incase they needed a statement from me (women understand this). By the time I got back to the door, I see the police cruiser driving off. WTF!!! Did they simply tell him to go home? It’s a kid. Out by himself. In the dark of the morning.

Well, hell.

I didn’t recognize him and was not about to go door to door to see which of my neighbors have a blond kid who may or may not have a tendency to slip out in the middle of the night. But damn that was annoying and ever so slightly anticlimactic! Now, I am wondering **if he does this often as the dog has woken me up almost every night going on a week now.

Next time, if there is a next time, I will just go yell and the little dude to get home and see what happens.

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blog suckage

No . . . not a hard word to spell. Only two little letters. But apparently to say no would be the end of the world. Ames has been trying in vain to get me to say no. But it hasn’t took yet.

Conferences, contests and commitments OH MY!

I will say, I have learned to turn deaf ears and prentend I don’t hear the voices around me talking about what’s going on. But as for the previous yeses, I am up to my ass in calling hotels, calling speakers, calling judges–not to mention the stuff the kiddos need done.

Don’t even ask if I am writing. grrrrrrrrrr

I should be blogging again. . . in June GAW!

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Neigh

I have been accused of beating a dead horse before . . . so let me get my nose plugs and whip out . . . .

When did a “STOP” sign become a suggestion. People don’t stop. You’re lucky if, when it truly is your turn, you don’t get hit by the jerk zipping through it.

School zones aren’t instituted “just for fun” there is a reason why the speed limit is lower . . . and if your child is already late, what’s the freaking rush!

When your lane ends, don’t come zooming past me and hope I will graciously let you over . . ain’t gonna happen. You WILL get my horn and the single finger salute–don’t care if I know you or not.

Maybe I am a rule follower to my detriment, but the way I see it, there are reasons behind most of the ones people feel compelled to ignore. I swear people are freaking insane.

(and FYI, turn signals are built into a car to use . . . mother)

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