The Preschool Clique

My daughter is a mean girl.  She's five.

This week her preschool went on a field trip to the zoo.  Her daddy took her.  She specifically requested him so that he would bring her and her best friend to see the alligators.  I guess she didn't think I was capable of protecting her from the big, bad alligators behind the very thick, bullet-proof glass.  But that's not really the point.  Sorry.  ADD moment...

Anymeanasslittlegirl, she already has a best friend.  Her BFF, Abby Lou, is the daughter of a coworker.  It's quite ironic that they became such good friends because last year she told me that she didn't like girls with short hair.  Seeing as Abby Lou has short hair, I was quite surprised by their instant bond.  The two of them are like Thelma & Louise.  Rice and beans.  Candace and Stacy.

This BFF duo is actually trouble disguised as completely adorable with ringlets and hair bows.  As with any girl besties situation, there's always the third wheel.  You know, that friend with whom both of them will hang when the besty is not available.  The girl who longs to be a best friend, too, yet she's just not.

That's Sarah Lynn.  The third wheel.  The one that my little mean girl, G, didn't want to invite to her birthday party last year because she had short hair.  Did I tell you these girls are all five???


Back at the zoo...

Sarah Lynn wanted to hang out with the two BFFs.  She and her mom stayed with the group of my coworker, Mr. OCD, Abby Lou, and G the mean ass.  While walking through the animal exhibits, the BFFs were holding hands.  Of course, Sarah Lynn, desperate to be a part of their little clique, wanted to hold hands too.  When Sarah Lynn tried to hold my little diva's hand, she pulled away and said "I need this hand to push my hair back when it gets in my eyes."

WTF???  It gets worse.  In front of an animal exhibit, Abby Lou and Sarah Lynn, were standing together against the rail watching the animals.  G didn't like that so she pinched Sarah Lynn.  Of course, this made Sarah Lynn run off crying to her mom.  Mission accomplished for G, though.  Sarah Lynn was no longer standing next to Abby Lou.

Mothers of daughters - BEWARE!  It's part of God's plan.  You will reap what you sow!

Nothing Like the Wrath of Daddy

My daughter woke everyone up this morning at 5:49 a.m.  I was pissed and begged her to go back to sleep.  I even let her crawl in bed with me and her brother.  (Yes, my son's pretty much taken over my bedroom.  Daddy has been sleeping on the couch.  To say our sex life is exciting would be an....uh....well, a bad April Fool's joke.)  I tried rubbing her back, but no deal.  She wanted to talk...

Against my better judgment, I got my butt out of bed.  My intentions were selfish, though.  I got up to turn on some cartoons and make her a nice pallet on the couch.  While I was feverishly working to get her away from me so I could go back to bed, she went back into my bedroom and woke up her brother.   

Crap!  Now they're both up!  Wait...Ahhh, yes.  Now they are both up and out of my bed.  Cha-ching!  I've got the bed to myself.  Surely they can play together for an hour or so without torching the house.  I'll fix them some cereal and sneak back into my bedroom while they eat.  Perfect plan!

Even at 6:00 a.m., my genius can kick in.  Just as I got back to bed, I hear this:

E:  Jaden, J-A-D-E-N

G: Is this what a D looks like?

E:  Yes, now Daniel, D-A-N-I-E-L

For a moment, I was totally impressed.  I know E has learned a lot in kindergarten this year, but how to spell the names of his friends???  That's freakin' awesome!

E:  Luke, L-U-K-E

G:  What is his number?

What a minute.  Those aren't his classmates.  Those are his team mates.  They are writing something somewhere.  So I yell.  I'm suspicious but not enough to get my butt out of bed.  E and G!  What are you writing?  What are you writing?  You better not be in your daddy's stuff!  Too late.  I hear them scurrying around the dining room where their dad has put all the baseball gear of his t-ball team.

Shit!  I had to get up.

I find them on the floor with the brand, new, tags-still-on-them baseball hats.  Writing the names and numbers of the players on the inside of the bill.  With MARKER!  Oh, hell, their daddy is going to kill them.

I'm giggling on the inside because that is what he gets for going hunting this morning.  Mama is spoiled, you see, and always gets to sleep in on Saturdays while Daddy gets up with the kids.  This morning, though, he was in the woods and Mama was out of her mind desperate for more shut eye.

I called to tell him the news.  It's official.  He's going to kill them.

As I began typing this blog, I heard my two angels run up the stairs into their bedrooms.  I heard the doors lock.  They're scared, shitless.

I remember those days when I was scared my dad was actually going to kill me.  Ah, sweet memories...  Why am I enjoying this so much???

Got Church?

Growing up, church was not a big deal at my house.  Oddly, being Catholic was a very big deal.  Going to church and actually practicing Catholicism?  Not so much.  My family went to church for funerals, weddings, and the occasional holiday. 

As a teen, I went with much more frequency because I practically lived with my cousins.  We went to mass either Saturday evening or Sunday morning.  Every Week.  Or face the wrath of Uncle Pat, a devout Catholic and a very big man.  He was my godfather as well as my uncle.  I think he felt personally responsible for ensuring that I not become a certified heathen.  Hell, no one else was concerned much.  Thank God for him.  He's gone now, but I appreciate that he loved me enough to make sure my ass was in that pew each week.

In college, I lost my religion.  And my mind.  Alcohol and parties and cute frat boys with no name.  Many of you have been there and know exactly what I mean.  Do I need to elaborate???  Lord, I hope not.  Some skeletons are better left in the closet.

Marriage and the trials we faced while trying to start a family brought me back to God.  And back to church. 

I've often heard people say that church is not necessary for a relationship with God.  They may be right.  I used to feel the same way.  I didn't mean it, though.  I didn't really know what a relationship with God entailed. 

Sure, I prayed.  I prayed that my boyfriend wouldn't leave me.  I prayed that my perm would relax before school picture day.  I prayed that I'd make the cheerleading squad.  I prayed for that new job.  I prayed that I wouldn't get pulled over as I sped through town.  Yep, I thought the Big G and I were tight like that.

But let me tell you what I get from going church that I didn't get from all that "praying."  I get my mind and heart right for the upcoming week.  For the one hour that I sit and listen to the sermon, I really, REALLY listen to the message.  And each time, it seems that my pastor wrote the sermon just for me.  As if he knows exactly what I did or did not do.  It's as though God is speaking directly to me through him.  Relax, I'm not hearing voices.  I just have a guilty conscience, I think. 

I also take that opportunity to reflect on the previous week.  What could I have done differently?  What will I do the next time I'm faced with a similar situation?  Am I really a good Christian?

I know this post is a bit different from my usual crazy-as-hell rantings.  No, I've not been kidnapped by aliens nor have I joined the Heaven's Gate commune.  I've just been out of sorts lately.  Irritable and pissy.  I've been bitching and moaning and carrying on about anything and everything.  I've been self-absorbed and negative.  And, until today, had not been to church in nearly a month.

I wouldn't be having these thoughts right now if it weren't for a recent conversation with a friend.  I don't know how the topic of church came about, but he stated that going to church each week helped him stay on the right path.  Were it not for Sundays, he'd forget his purpose.

Needless to say, I went to church today.  I'm glad I did.  At this moment, my mind and heart are in the right place.  Maybe that's why the week technically begins on Sunday? 

By Friday, I'm sure my Christianity will be out the window because someone or something will get on my last damn nerve.  I'll be ready to rip someone's head off.  Thankfully, I can get my mind right again next Sunday.

Amen!

Why Everyone Else Thinks We Are Idiots

I am a Southern girl, born and breed.  In addition, I am extremely proud of my southern roots.  My dad's family are Ragin' Cajuns straight off the boat from France.  Thanks to a free subscription to Ancestry.com, I learned that his great grandfather was the founder of Bayou LaBatre.  To say my southern roots run deep is a complete understatement.

However...

I completely understand why people north of the Mason-Dixon think we are jackasses!  It's because sometimes WE ARE!  Seriously...  Our cup runneth over with stupidity.  Though I know of no one personally who is a product of inbreeding, it must be much more rampant than I originally thought.

Why am I on a tirade, you ask???  Because I cannot fathom why ANYONE (southern or not) would support cheating.  Furthermore, it makes my blood boil to hear the phrase, "well, everyone does it."

Yes, genius.  Many people may cheat.  And probably 90% of them don't get caught.  Does it make the cheating any less pathetic???  I think NOT.

Recently, the, now former, head men's basketball coach of the University of Tennessee has been in the news.  A lot.  He was fired.  For REPEATED NCAA recruiting violations.  He basically contacted high school athletes and made offers to said athletes although he wasn't supposed to.  Of course, "contacted" is an understatement.  He took them to dinner and to clubs and probably even bought them hookers (though I have no proof of such activities).  MULTIPLE times.  Even after being reprimanded by the NCAA!  He basically said "Screw you, Mr. Commissioner.  I'm Bruce Pearl, and I do what I want."

He cost the university millions of dollars in fines.  As a result, he lost his job.  As he should have.  That's not the part that pisses me off.  No, what has my panties in a big, fat wad is the outcry of support he's received from UT basketball fans.

They are picketing in front of the administration offices at UT.  They are all over the news and giving interviews so that the rest of the world can confirm that they are, in deed, complete and utter fools.  I wanted to throw my computer through the television when I heard a young man state, "Everyone cheats.  They just don't get caught."



No, asshole!  Everyone does not cheat. 

His comment just came at the wrong time for me, I guess.  As a teacher, cheating is a topic very near and not so dear to me.  Call me a nerd, but I'm honest.  Furthermore, I expect everyone else to be.  I do not deal well with those who are not.  (Remember my recent tantrum about my son's completely fabricated eyeglasses story???)  I guess it goes back to my laziness.  Truthful people are just easier to manage.  They tend to do the right thing thus require less monitoring.  A school teacher's dream.

This year I've dealt with more blatant cheating than ever before.  Maybe because I'm more experienced?  Those first few years are all about surviving without bodily injury.  Not me -- the kids.  Anyhoo, I think that there really are many people in this world that think cheating and lying are perfectly acceptable.  As long as you don't get caught, right??  Some folks take it even further and will defend their dishonesty all the way to the Supreme Court.  You would not believe the lawsuits filed against schools because something happened to a kid while he was being a moron and violating the rights of others.

It turns my stomach just thinking about it.

So little Johnny's feelings were hurt when the Security Officer handcuffed him in front of his peers?  Oh, the fact that he just stole $800 from the cafeteria and physically assaulted two administrators while trying to get away is not justification enough?  Give me an effin' break, people!
* A totally fictitious scenario that does not reflect anything that has ever occurred at Our Heavenly Angels High School where I work.

Yes, by God.  Cheating, lying, stealing, breaking the rules...  They ARE big deals.  While Mr. Pearl may have done a phenomenal job with the men's basketball program, he violated the rules.  Repeatedly.  Consequently, he was fired.  Time to move on and hope for another good coach with a little bit of integrity. 

Call me an optimist (or naive), but I do believe that such a coach exists.  

Irregardless of What You Have to Say, We Cannot Conversate

Things that bug the shit out of me #457...

People who use bad grammar! Regardless of what the rappers say, conversate is NOT A WORD!  The word is converse, dammit!  If you type it and a squiggly red line appears beneath it, that means it's WRONG!

Another word - irregardless!  It drives me crazy to hear educated people use that inappropriate, non-word.  Irregardless negates itself.  Use Irrespective or Regardless; you cannot combine the two and split the difference!


Your an idiot!  posted all on someone's Facebook status.

No, biotch...you're an idiot!  Seriously, though, I want to slap folks on the forehead when they use your and you're interchangeably.  I absolutely refuse to like anything on Facebook that has your used incorrectly in the title.  If you're going to take the time to actually create a group, how about using proper English in the freakin' title!

Other non-grammar irritations???? 

• White shoes before Easter!  Yes, I realize that it is 80 degrees outside.  I also understand that Easter is late this year.  However, regardless of what those heifers at Seventeen Magazine say, it is not appropriate to wear white shoes between Labor Day and Easter. 

• Deodorant is not OPTIONAL!

• Jacked up toes in sandals.  If you are going to wear sandals (hopefully in a color other than white), have your damn toes done!  If you can't afford a pedicure, how about a little soap and water???  I can't even eat my lunch just thinking about it.

I think that's all I've got today.  Stay tuned, though; I'm sure someone or something will piss me off before it's all said and done.  My dear friend PMDD is here for a little visit.

Day Effin' Light Effin' Savings Time!

Those damn Nazi communist bastards say to spring forward, folks! 

I know, I'm dramatic and tend to over exaggerate.  Okay, so maybe it's just the regular government of this wonderfully free United States of America.  I'm not feeling so "united" right now, though.

I've often considered relocating to Arizona.  Or Hawaii.  But Hawaii is out of the question because I'm kinda scared of being washed out into the Pacific Ocean.  I'm sure the place is lovely and all, but volcanoes and tsunamis are not my idea of fun.  Of course, I live on the New Madrid fault now which is supposed to produce "THE BIG ONE" in terms of earthquakes.  But it's been pretty quiet for the past 40 years.  Out of sight, out of mind, I guess...

Oh!  But where was I?  Yes, now I remember.  Daylight Savings Time.  It sucks.  I've never been a fan.  I know people love having light outside until 8-9 p.m., but I think the sunlight is entirely over-rated.  Just ask someone who's ever had skin cancer.  That stuff is dangerous!  I'm willing to forgo the catastrophic effects of sunlight for an extra hour of rejuvenating SLEEP!

SLEEP is my friend.  It is everyone's friend.  Sleep is necessary for proper brain function.  It is crucial to the physical and mental development of children.  Without it, we would be a bunch of incompetent zombies with ADHD!!!  Nothing against ADHD.  I've got it.  But there are studies that show kids who don't get enough sleep are more likely to develop ADHD.  Your brain needs sleep to concentrate and process!!!

I, personally, cannot seem to get enough of it.  Now the state of Tennessee is going to take an hour of it away from me.  Without my consent.  I'm not sure, but I think that is illegal.  Somewhere.

Sure, I can go to bed a little earlier, but that's not very practical.  I mean, how much earlier can I get?  I'm already fast asleep by 8 p.m. on most nights!!

Which brings me to another point...  My kids and I go to bed pretty early.  If my daughter has had a long day, she's ready for bed as early as 6:30 p.m.  It's kinda hard to snuggle up under the covers and peacefully enter dreamland with the sun glaring in your damn eyes.  Black out curtains in the bedrooms do help, but still...  The bells on the ice cream truck are sure to disrupt the whole process.

I suppose I could stand down and choose NOT to participate.  Have my own little boycott, if you will.  I'm not sure work will entertain it, though.  And Mr. OCD will have a damn cardiac arrest if we aren't at least 45 minutes early to EVERYTHING!  (Lately, we've had to skip church because the kids and I weren't dressed and ready by 8:15 a.m.  The service doesn't start until 9:30 a.m.  The church is less than 8 miles from our house.  Thankfully, the Big G is pretty understanding.)

Ahhh...  Looks like there's only one effin' option.  LB has to put on her big girl panties and SUCK IT UP!!!

FML!  Don't expect me to be pleasant on Monday morning, dammit!

 

The Ju-Ju Gene

My son has it.  The Ju-Ju Gene.  It's a defective gene from my husband's side.  I've named it after the MIL from Hell who I thought was out of our lives.

Not true.  While we do not speak to her or interact with her in any way, she is alive and kicking in our immediate family via the genetic make up of our offspring. 

My poor son has it bad.  He gets completely psychotic when things don't go his way.  He is a complete narcissist.  He gets very upset if his sister receives any praise because, well, it's supposed to be all about HIM.  He would just as soon cut her jugular than look at her. 

This week more effects of the Ju-Ju Gene have surfaced.  It's one of the worst, in my opinion.  A characteristic that, on a good day, will make my head explode.  It's called lying.  It seems Mr. Adorably Deceptive accidentally bent his glasses on Monday.  Instead of coming clean, he blamed it on a classmate.  On Tuesday, when he got in trouble with a substitute teacher, he bent them out of anger.  Again, he claimed his classmate grabbed them off his face and broke them.  The glasses, after Tuesdays incident, were officially broken and in need of repair. 

I was pissed.  And pissed at the other kid.  Two damn days in a row that kid has grabbed his glasses!  Why didn't the teacher do something???  Or let me know something???  Who is this mean-ass kid?

As a result, I emailed his teacher about it.  Imagine my surprise when she explained to me what had really transpired!  When I confronted him, he confessed.  However, he continued to lie to his dad who picked him up from school yesterday afternoon.  (At 6, you apparently don't realize that your parents may actually talk to one another.)

It makes me cringe just thinking about it.  Trust and honesty are so important to me.  I'm lazy.  It requires too much work to be suspicious of people and their actions.  It requires checking and double checking.  Consequences and punishment.  I just want to lay on the couch and watch T.V., for Christ's sake!

Anylittleliar, his dishonesty this week has cost me him TWO nights of television!  I could not sit him and his sister in front of the T.V. while I surfed the internet.  I was unable to watch Phineas & Ferb last night because of his punishment.  (K, maybe the narcissism comes from my side of the family.)

I hope we can overcome genetics.  I don't know how well I can coexist with a compulsive liar.  Could it just be a phase?  Will a lobotomy help?  Electroshock Therapy, maybe??

Please God let him get a smiley face today.  Tonight there's a new episode of Star Wars:  The Clone Wars, and I don't want to miss it!