Tags: school


the earth lies.

Unseasonably warm weather is horribly deceptive. Here we have warmth, and sun, and blue sky, and people running around in shorts and out doing stuff on their bikes again – and it makes your body shift back to summer. Your head thinks it’s summer. Then you look around at the tomato plants that have long since crapped out expecting to see new blooms, or the zinnias that now look like they’ve been set on fire for any new growth. Brain goes, “Oh hey! It’s summer. Grow!” and, of course, that won’t happen, because the tilt of the earth’s axis is now in such a way that is depriving northern hemispheric plant life of crucially needed sunlight. Despite the mental rejuvenation of that summerlike day, EVERYTHING ELSE AROUND YOU IS SLOWLY DYING.


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Originally published at batty.us. You can comment here or there.


it’s good.

Being the overachieving overachiever that I am, I volunteered to be a room parent for Boog’s class. Well, I was assigned the honor of HEAD ROOM PARENT. And, as I now have experienced, being HEAD ROOM PARENT actually means PICKING UP THE SLACK OF THE OTHER PARENTS WHO VOLUNTEERED BUT WONT RETURN YOUR CALLS.

Today is the last day of school for the year. Boog’s class is having a party at the end of the day, where they will decorate cookies. [yeah, dont get me started. heh] Because of budgets, pretty much everything has to be donated – cookies, frosting, etc. Cue the ROOM PARENTS. They help provide these things so that the little ones can have a good time. I did my HEAD ROOM PARENT duties and feverishly called the other parents for assistance, and the response was rather underwhelming.

So I did it myself. Mind you, I have not touched any conventional baking dough in over a year. After about 3 burned batches, I mustered up 36 cookies, and put them in bags, along with little treat bags that included winter stickers and silly bands. And maybe a candy cane or two.  Each bag got each child’s name along with some extra stickers. And prepared cups of sprinkles for the tables, and frosting, and cups for the drinks, and fun straws.

I walked the supplies up to the school this morning. Apparently it’s also jammie day, as I entered a room full of kindergarteners in their jammies. And they came up to me and said HELLO BOOG’S MOMMY and showed me their stuffed animals. Boog’s teacher was wearing a rather nifty pair of red leopard print pajamas that I covet.  And I gave her the rundown on what was in the boxes, and she was ever so grateful and gave me a hug. Being the huggy person I am, I appreciated that.

Boog is with Jeremy this week so I enjoyed seeing Boog even if it was brief. I would also like to give a shoutout to Jeremy for stepping up to the plate with helping at the party because I could not make it.

All of this came out of my own pocket. Did I mention that my contract with UH ends at the end of the year? Right now, though, I was just happy I could help.

In the winter, we tend to hole ourselves up a little more, maybe spend too much time in front of the computer, are less inclined to go outside as much, maybe slack on interaction with other people. The time spent wrapped up in our own heads might be a little too much, and maybe our perspective of the world shifts as our only witness to the outside world is the douchebaggery going on in the news.

And sometimes all it takes to rejuvenate your perspective is taking a bunch of cookies to a room full of kindergarteners.

If you’re feeling the same, go do good for someone today. No act of kindness is too small. Hold the door open for someone. Bring soup to a friend. Do good for someone else so they, in turn, can do good for someone else, and maybe this world can suck less.

Anyone can write a check. Do something.

Originally published at batty.us. You can comment here or there.


the aftermath

After a weekend of slight humiliation with Jeremy, boog was pretty down when he arrived at our house Sunday night. I also had him write apology letters to his teacher and to the kid he spit on. I think it’s not only important to make sure the kid knows he did something wrong, but also help him realize that his actions do affect others. I also think more people in this world need to remember that last part for themselves.

The result: lots of hugs. His teacher gave him a thank you hug, he got a hug from the spittee, and boog got a star on his hand yesterday for good behavior. We’re good for at least another week or two.

Oh, and the boy he spit on? His father hands me my venti bold at starbucks almost every morning. Here’s hoping he does not believe in retribution.

Originally published at batty.us. You can comment here or there.


full of spit

So I had my first parent teacher conference ever a few weeks ago. I felt so….motherly.  What is this ‘responsibility’ nonsense and why am I smack dab in the middle of it? Anyway, I got to sit in the little chairs in a school late at night and go over boog’s work. I am fascinated by the artwork of kindergarteners. I kind of want to be able to harness that reality-but-yet-not perspective again, where the sky is always blue lines on the top of the page, and it is perfectly OK for robots to have two heads.

Boog is doing brilliantly as expected.  He got the equivalent of all A’s in his classes, and he is so advanced in reading that the teacher is pulling him aside with the other advanced readers to make sure they keep that up. Boog’s teacher? awesome. She’s just going on about how great boog is, and how well he catches on, and she wishes she had a callsroom full of him. Admittedly, my reaction to that was “OH TRUST ME YOU DONT,” which, after that just kinda fell out of my mouth, probably sounded really bad. But anyway.

I’m sitting there all beamy and giving myself mental high-5s and congratulating myself for gestating such genetically superior offspring, and that’s when everything just kinda stopped and the teacher put in that big “BUT…” and insert record scratch here.

He’s spitting at people in class.  Spitting.  Mind you, I didn’t expect boog to sail through school being a perfect angel.  In fact, I have spent many a moment wondering just what boog sized havoc he was going to wreak upon his unsuspecting teacher. ‘Spitting’ never made that list.

Well, it’s gotten to a point where Jeremy received a call from boog during the day Friday, where he had  - yet again – launched his salivary product at one of his cohorts, and his teacher marched his little butt straight to the principal’s office and have him call Jeremy to tell him exactly what he did.

We are both baffled as to why he is doing this, as he doesn’t do this at either of our homes. It all reminds me of that episode of Roseanne where Darlene barks in class. Roseanne is my parenting role model, btw.

We’ve discussed and executed suitable punishments, but the mystery continues, and I gotta find slight amusement in this. Spitting? Really, boog? Surely you can come up with something more ingenious. You can mow the lawn and use belligerent correctly in a sentence, for crap’s sake.

I am contemplating making a sandwich board with the words I SPIT on it and making him stand out in the front yard after school.

Ok, not really. But the thought of it amuses me.

I got a buttload of recipes to unload, so keep an eye out for those.

Originally published at batty.us. You can comment here or there.


mr. boog goes to school.

I slightly remember my first day of kindergarten. It was 1978. My house wasn’t even a block away from the elementary school, so I got to walk. I remember heading out of the house with my backpack and my metal snoopy lunchbox, and my mom said goodbye and watched me depart. And she just stood on the porch, watching. And I’d walk a bit and turn around to look at the house and she was still there. Walk a bit more, look back, STILL THERE. GET IN THE HOUSE, MA.

And that is my memory of my first day of kindergarten.

Today was boog’s first day. It was Jeremy’s week, however he brought boog over to the house, we got all of his supplies together, and Jeremy, D and I walked boog up to the school.

The sidewalks were crowded this morning.  It was like every single house had at least one kid in elementary school. Everyone was really friendly. The crossing guards introduced themselves and became familiar with the kids.

We unloaded boog’s stuff and he found his seat. Parents were allowed to stick around for a little bit, just in case.

boog’s teacher has been teaching for pretty much as long as I’ve been alive. She’s a powerhouse, has a very strong personality and definitely knows how to handle the wee ones.

We said our goodbyes to boog and let him get on with his day, and we went to a reception in the auditorium for the parents, where I did not eat any of the donuts. After that, we headed home and sat on the porch for a bit, drinking more coffee and bullshitted a bit more before heading to work.

I am really excited about starting this chapter of boog’s life. This is where he really begins to grow and learn and become his own little autonomous person.  MY KID IS IN KINDERGARTEN, PEOPLE.

I got to talk to boog on the phone tonight to see how his day went. He said they went outside 3 times and he colored an apple with red, brown, and green crayons. *And*, he said, he didn’t have to sit in the time out chair.

Days Without Incident: 1

Originally published at batty.us. You can comment here or there.