My daughters have made it their policy to never use the bathrooms at school Esther was very proud of managing to attend her many years in public school without ever once using the school’s toilets, and Sarah is trying very hard to emulate her record.
As a result, the very first thing that both my daughters have done and do, when arriving home on the bus is to throw off their backpacks and make a run for the bathroom.
Don’t get in their way and try to say hello or anything, you are likely to be mowed down in their rush.
At any rate, after arriving home and making her first stop, Sarah came over and said to me, “I don’t’ want to discuss liquids, I want to discuss solids.”
I got a rather, “What!” look on my face, something that could be described as between incredulity and discomfort; and Sarah , with dawning comprehension of what I was thinking, said, “Wait, wait , wait, I mean F-O-O-D!”
Much better.
After all, the second thing both girls do is eat.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Story of the Day 9/21/2010
Please don’t tell Esther.
I mailed Aaron a present, today.
She will not be jealous, that is not the problem.
You see, Aaron lost his cell phone.
Again.
At least, this time, he didn’t lose his wallet. But it is hard to keep track of your cell phone ( and your wallet) if you wear shorts whose pockets gape open overtime you sit down.
There were a few possible solutions to this.
We could buy him another cell phone, get him another driver’s license, cancel the credit cards, kiss the cash good-bye. But having just done that, last month, I thought we should investigate the other solutions.
He could wear other shorts. You know, cargo shorts that have pockets that do not allow things to easily slide out every time you sit down or stand up.
But Aaron is rather attached to his multicolored patchwork , and his Hawaiian themed shorts.
A purse. Aaron could carry a purse. Well, we could call it a messenger bag or something like that.
Maybe one of those cool woven Guatemalan ones?
Or a fanny pack!
And I just happened to have a brand new one of those- well, brand new from Goodwill, sitting in my closet.
So , I boxed it up and mailed it to him.
And texted him.
And , Aaron being Aaron, texted and thanked me for sending it to him.
But when Esther finds out, she is going to kill me!
She would have preferred I sent him a purse.
I mailed Aaron a present, today.
She will not be jealous, that is not the problem.
You see, Aaron lost his cell phone.
Again.
At least, this time, he didn’t lose his wallet. But it is hard to keep track of your cell phone ( and your wallet) if you wear shorts whose pockets gape open overtime you sit down.
There were a few possible solutions to this.
We could buy him another cell phone, get him another driver’s license, cancel the credit cards, kiss the cash good-bye. But having just done that, last month, I thought we should investigate the other solutions.
He could wear other shorts. You know, cargo shorts that have pockets that do not allow things to easily slide out every time you sit down or stand up.
But Aaron is rather attached to his multicolored patchwork , and his Hawaiian themed shorts.
A purse. Aaron could carry a purse. Well, we could call it a messenger bag or something like that.
Maybe one of those cool woven Guatemalan ones?
Or a fanny pack!
And I just happened to have a brand new one of those- well, brand new from Goodwill, sitting in my closet.
So , I boxed it up and mailed it to him.
And texted him.
And , Aaron being Aaron, texted and thanked me for sending it to him.
But when Esther finds out, she is going to kill me!
She would have preferred I sent him a purse.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Story of The Day 9/7/2010
Another day, another story.
Sarah came home from school today, I bet you knew that this story would start that way, didn’t you?
Sarah came home from school today, and told me that today was the day the interpreter was evaluated. The evaluator, a woman, sat through three of Sarah’s classes: English, Geography and Geometry.
The interpreter made several errors, although, she was not heavily taxed because there were no complicated lectures, today.
Sarah said that the highlight of the day was when the interpreter signed “vertical angle”. Sarah looks at me and says” What is the sign for vertical angle?”
I thought and said, “I don’t’ know of a sign for it.”
She said, “That is right, it is finger spelled,” which she knows because she was taught about vertical angles when she attended the Deaf School.
“Well, M----- ( the interpreter) made up a sign. “
Sarah showed it to me.
“ And it is rude and has something to do with sex, although, I am not sure exactly what .”
Thank God!
Addendum - okay, I lied, at the very end of the story. Sarah does know what that sign means. But I didn’t’ teach it to her!
Sarah came home from school today, I bet you knew that this story would start that way, didn’t you?
Sarah came home from school today, and told me that today was the day the interpreter was evaluated. The evaluator, a woman, sat through three of Sarah’s classes: English, Geography and Geometry.
The interpreter made several errors, although, she was not heavily taxed because there were no complicated lectures, today.
Sarah said that the highlight of the day was when the interpreter signed “vertical angle”. Sarah looks at me and says” What is the sign for vertical angle?”
I thought and said, “I don’t’ know of a sign for it.”
She said, “That is right, it is finger spelled,” which she knows because she was taught about vertical angles when she attended the Deaf School.
“Well, M----- ( the interpreter) made up a sign. “
Sarah showed it to me.
“ And it is rude and has something to do with sex, although, I am not sure exactly what .”
Thank God!
Addendum - okay, I lied, at the very end of the story. Sarah does know what that sign means. But I didn’t’ teach it to her!
Story of the Day 8/29/2010
I am a woman of many talents, unfortunately, one of them is puking.
I have this hereditary condition- it comes with tinnitus (ringing in the ears), uneven hearing loss (one ear hears better than the other), poor balance, and this nasty little thing called vertigo ( yep, just like the Alfred Hitchcock film) . One of the nice little details about vertigo is that it means that I get car sick easily, plane sick, Ferris wheel sick, escalator sick, and sometimes just having my husband roll over in bed will get me sick. And, believe me, puking is not attractive. It is not attractive to the person doing it and it is not attractive to anyone else in the vicinity.
Although, it does have its benefits.
Yes, benefits.
You see, my children know how much I truly love them. Years ago, they were desperate to ride the rides at the state fair and I , not wanting y children to ride alone, got on with them. Of course, the end result was me puking off to the side of the ride- fortunately, after getting off of it. But to this day, Esther still remembers that I loved her enough t puke for her.
And there is the fact that I was willing to let them learn to drive.
You see, part of getting your driver’s license is the part where you have a learner’s permit, which means a licensed adult needs to be in the car with you. And, of course, you want to give your child every opportunity to practice those driving skills. Esther still remembers that very first time she drove up to Target. And I made it all the way there and even got my car door open before puking in their parking lot. Twice.
Of course, with Aaron, I think the very first time he tried to drive, in the parking lot of the school nearby, I managed to puke about 5 minutes into the lesson. Hey, don’t blame me- it is those standard transmission cars that lurch every time they stall out.
And, on some occasions, I even manage to get car sick when I am driving.
Like, this evening. I made the mistake of glancing at my friend. We were on our way to watch the Fever- our local WNBA team, play. And I was chatting with my friend Susan. And I glanced over one too many times.
And, luckily, there was a plastic bag in the side pocket of my door. Well, I should not say “luckily”, I usually have at least two handy in the car. And, even luckier, I managed to not need it. We got to the parking garage, and I took my time getting out of the car and regaining my sense of balance- and then we went into the field house. And I was smart enough not to use the escalator- but even the steps bothered me, and well, luckily the guy at the ticket office had a plastic bag.
Lynne, is this sounding familiar? Lynne knows to bring one with her when picking me up from the bus station.
I made it past the ticket takers, and into the women’s bathroom before puking a second time. Although, some of it hit the floor because the trash can was just a few feet too far.
And then, I thought I was doing really well, until before half time. But this time I made it all the way to the toilet.
Eventually, my vertigo pretty much subsided.
Of course, by the time it was the 4th quarter, all I could think of was eating- or, at least drinking some hot chocolate with whipped cream. Well, how do you think I manage to stay fat?
Do you think this might be why no one ever takes me anywhere?
I have this hereditary condition- it comes with tinnitus (ringing in the ears), uneven hearing loss (one ear hears better than the other), poor balance, and this nasty little thing called vertigo ( yep, just like the Alfred Hitchcock film) . One of the nice little details about vertigo is that it means that I get car sick easily, plane sick, Ferris wheel sick, escalator sick, and sometimes just having my husband roll over in bed will get me sick. And, believe me, puking is not attractive. It is not attractive to the person doing it and it is not attractive to anyone else in the vicinity.
Although, it does have its benefits.
Yes, benefits.
You see, my children know how much I truly love them. Years ago, they were desperate to ride the rides at the state fair and I , not wanting y children to ride alone, got on with them. Of course, the end result was me puking off to the side of the ride- fortunately, after getting off of it. But to this day, Esther still remembers that I loved her enough t puke for her.
And there is the fact that I was willing to let them learn to drive.
You see, part of getting your driver’s license is the part where you have a learner’s permit, which means a licensed adult needs to be in the car with you. And, of course, you want to give your child every opportunity to practice those driving skills. Esther still remembers that very first time she drove up to Target. And I made it all the way there and even got my car door open before puking in their parking lot. Twice.
Of course, with Aaron, I think the very first time he tried to drive, in the parking lot of the school nearby, I managed to puke about 5 minutes into the lesson. Hey, don’t blame me- it is those standard transmission cars that lurch every time they stall out.
And, on some occasions, I even manage to get car sick when I am driving.
Like, this evening. I made the mistake of glancing at my friend. We were on our way to watch the Fever- our local WNBA team, play. And I was chatting with my friend Susan. And I glanced over one too many times.
And, luckily, there was a plastic bag in the side pocket of my door. Well, I should not say “luckily”, I usually have at least two handy in the car. And, even luckier, I managed to not need it. We got to the parking garage, and I took my time getting out of the car and regaining my sense of balance- and then we went into the field house. And I was smart enough not to use the escalator- but even the steps bothered me, and well, luckily the guy at the ticket office had a plastic bag.
Lynne, is this sounding familiar? Lynne knows to bring one with her when picking me up from the bus station.
I made it past the ticket takers, and into the women’s bathroom before puking a second time. Although, some of it hit the floor because the trash can was just a few feet too far.
And then, I thought I was doing really well, until before half time. But this time I made it all the way to the toilet.
Eventually, my vertigo pretty much subsided.
Of course, by the time it was the 4th quarter, all I could think of was eating- or, at least drinking some hot chocolate with whipped cream. Well, how do you think I manage to stay fat?
Do you think this might be why no one ever takes me anywhere?
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