My husband was eating lunch. It was 3:33 and he had been home from work for about 20 minutes.
And I was in the kitchen taking the bread out of the oven.
And we heard the front door open and close.
My husband said, “It is 3:33, I wonder if that is Sarah.”
I thought a moment and replied, “Well, you could call out, ‘Is that Sarah?’ and if someone answers, you will know it isn’t her.”
Friday, March 18, 2011
Story of the Day 3/ 10/ 2011
These things just seek her out.
Stories.
Okay, they seek out Sarah. She just seems to be a magnet for things that make for good stories. Unfortunately, things that make for good stories are usually painful while they are happening, even if you know, at that moment, that they will make good stories.
But I am wrong, it is not that Sarah is a magnet for these things, it is just that there seem to be a lot of stupid people who seem to be in charge of the things around her. Or maybe that really is the same thing.
When I came home from work, yesterday evening, Sarah was already asleep, but she had left a message for me taped to my bathroom mirror. It said, “Do you know who is my interpreter for tomorrow?”
Unfortunately, I did.
When Sarah woke up, this morning, I told her, and she gave me a really horrified look and said, “No, not the vagina woman!”
Now, Sarah had this interpreter a few times and she let the Resource teacher know that this terp cannot sign well, has poor vocabulary and can’t understand Sarah. So, perhaps you might think that this terp would not be scheduled again. But she was. And then, there was the day that she spent an entire class period explaining to Sarah how to measure the surface area of a vagina, and a right vagina , and of assorted other vaginas.
And of course, Sarah’s obnoxious mother (me!) let the school know that this terp had a slight vocabulary problem.
And the school let the teacher know and let the agency know. And then, they scheduled this woman to terp, again, for today.
So, to be honest, I was expecting another story.
When Sarah came home, I asked, “Did she spend math class signing vagina?” Since today was the review for the test over measuring the surface area of…triangles, this was, actually, a rather obvious question.
But she hadn’t. Although the teacher drew 4 triangles on the board and demonstrated how to solve for surface areas, he managed to avoid saying the word “ triangle” during the entire class period.
However, the terp managed to find another word to masturbate…I mean mutilate. “Perfect”. Which, when she was done with it was not perfect, it was “F***”.
Now, in a normal situation, you might expect that Sarah could say something to the interpreter like, “ Ummmm, you really should sign it this way.” And then Sarah could demonstrate the correct sign for her.
But, of course, this is not a normal world, and this is the same terp that we have previously explained to the school, cannot understand Sarah.
You might wonder, what do I mean when I state that this interpreter cannot understand Sarah, so I will give an illustration from what happened , today.
This morning, Sarah and the terp both arrived before the start of the first class. Sarah asked her (knowing that she commutes from near Chicago),"What time do you wake up in the morning?"
This is not a tough question and Sarah signed it clearly and slowly.
The interpreter said, "What?"
Sarah again, more slowly, signed, "What time do you wake up in the morning?"
The interpreter said, "Please tell me, again."
Sarah signed the same thing very slowly.
The interpreter got a puzzled look on her face and looked at the classroom clock, looked at Sarah and signed, "Time now?"
Sarah said, "No, not what time it is now. I mean what time did YOU wake up, THIS morning?"
The interpreter said, "You?"
Sarah said, "No, not ME. I mean YOU. What time did YOU wake up?"
The interpreter sat there looking puzzled for a couple of minutes then said, "Oh, 4:00"
Maybe this will illustrate why Sarah cannot correct the interpreter when she signs "F***", why Sarah cannot participate in classroom discussion, or ask a teacher a question, and why she is petrified a teacher will ask her a question and she will have to rely on such an interpreter to interpret what she says.
Of course, this interpreter is scheduled again for next Tuesday. I am sure it will be a very educational experience.
And another Story.
Stories.
Okay, they seek out Sarah. She just seems to be a magnet for things that make for good stories. Unfortunately, things that make for good stories are usually painful while they are happening, even if you know, at that moment, that they will make good stories.
But I am wrong, it is not that Sarah is a magnet for these things, it is just that there seem to be a lot of stupid people who seem to be in charge of the things around her. Or maybe that really is the same thing.
When I came home from work, yesterday evening, Sarah was already asleep, but she had left a message for me taped to my bathroom mirror. It said, “Do you know who is my interpreter for tomorrow?”
Unfortunately, I did.
When Sarah woke up, this morning, I told her, and she gave me a really horrified look and said, “No, not the vagina woman!”
Now, Sarah had this interpreter a few times and she let the Resource teacher know that this terp cannot sign well, has poor vocabulary and can’t understand Sarah. So, perhaps you might think that this terp would not be scheduled again. But she was. And then, there was the day that she spent an entire class period explaining to Sarah how to measure the surface area of a vagina, and a right vagina , and of assorted other vaginas.
And of course, Sarah’s obnoxious mother (me!) let the school know that this terp had a slight vocabulary problem.
And the school let the teacher know and let the agency know. And then, they scheduled this woman to terp, again, for today.
So, to be honest, I was expecting another story.
When Sarah came home, I asked, “Did she spend math class signing vagina?” Since today was the review for the test over measuring the surface area of…triangles, this was, actually, a rather obvious question.
But she hadn’t. Although the teacher drew 4 triangles on the board and demonstrated how to solve for surface areas, he managed to avoid saying the word “ triangle” during the entire class period.
However, the terp managed to find another word to masturbate…I mean mutilate. “Perfect”. Which, when she was done with it was not perfect, it was “F***”.
Now, in a normal situation, you might expect that Sarah could say something to the interpreter like, “ Ummmm, you really should sign it this way.” And then Sarah could demonstrate the correct sign for her.
But, of course, this is not a normal world, and this is the same terp that we have previously explained to the school, cannot understand Sarah.
You might wonder, what do I mean when I state that this interpreter cannot understand Sarah, so I will give an illustration from what happened , today.
This morning, Sarah and the terp both arrived before the start of the first class. Sarah asked her (knowing that she commutes from near Chicago),"What time do you wake up in the morning?"
This is not a tough question and Sarah signed it clearly and slowly.
The interpreter said, "What?"
Sarah again, more slowly, signed, "What time do you wake up in the morning?"
The interpreter said, "Please tell me, again."
Sarah signed the same thing very slowly.
The interpreter got a puzzled look on her face and looked at the classroom clock, looked at Sarah and signed, "Time now?"
Sarah said, "No, not what time it is now. I mean what time did YOU wake up, THIS morning?"
The interpreter said, "You?"
Sarah said, "No, not ME. I mean YOU. What time did YOU wake up?"
The interpreter sat there looking puzzled for a couple of minutes then said, "Oh, 4:00"
Maybe this will illustrate why Sarah cannot correct the interpreter when she signs "F***", why Sarah cannot participate in classroom discussion, or ask a teacher a question, and why she is petrified a teacher will ask her a question and she will have to rely on such an interpreter to interpret what she says.
Of course, this interpreter is scheduled again for next Tuesday. I am sure it will be a very educational experience.
And another Story.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Story of the Day 3/7/2011 #2
Ely has had a headache.
It has been growing and growing and growing.
It had grown to the size of a very nice bike. A very nice bike that happened to belong to his roommate. Wait, is a person your roommate , if you live in the closet?
At any rate.
His headache had grown to the same exact size as his roommate’s bike.
Which was missing.
His roommate is away for a week or ten days or something like that and Ely, one morning, went out and left the porch unlocked.
When he came home, he realized that he had done this, but nothing seemed to be disturbed.
Until later, when he noticed that his roommate’s bicycle wasn’t on the porch.
His roommate’s bike is always on the porch.
Except, maybe it needed a repair, or maybe it…
Or maybe it was taken.
So, with a headache that was growing day by day, Ely was awaiting the return of his roommate.
This evening, I received a brief email from Ely:
“AMELIA HAD HER BIKE IN FOR A TUNE UP!!!!”
And I didn’t even have to ask, I know that Ely’s headache is now gone.
It has been growing and growing and growing.
It had grown to the size of a very nice bike. A very nice bike that happened to belong to his roommate. Wait, is a person your roommate , if you live in the closet?
At any rate.
His headache had grown to the same exact size as his roommate’s bike.
Which was missing.
His roommate is away for a week or ten days or something like that and Ely, one morning, went out and left the porch unlocked.
When he came home, he realized that he had done this, but nothing seemed to be disturbed.
Until later, when he noticed that his roommate’s bicycle wasn’t on the porch.
His roommate’s bike is always on the porch.
Except, maybe it needed a repair, or maybe it…
Or maybe it was taken.
So, with a headache that was growing day by day, Ely was awaiting the return of his roommate.
This evening, I received a brief email from Ely:
“AMELIA HAD HER BIKE IN FOR A TUNE UP!!!!”
And I didn’t even have to ask, I know that Ely’s headache is now gone.
Story of the Day 3/7/2011
As related to me by my children:
Aaron said to Sarah, “Not fair, you got a big letter from Ely! And you got a drawing from Ely, All I got was a little letter that is the size of my penis!”
Taking this non-sequitir comparison in stride ( after all ,she is a Margolis-Greenbaum), Sarah replied, “Do you know why I got a big letter while you got a little letter? Because a big letter matches the size of my penis!”
Aaron moaned.
Aaron said to Sarah, “Not fair, you got a big letter from Ely! And you got a drawing from Ely, All I got was a little letter that is the size of my penis!”
Taking this non-sequitir comparison in stride ( after all ,she is a Margolis-Greenbaum), Sarah replied, “Do you know why I got a big letter while you got a little letter? Because a big letter matches the size of my penis!”
Aaron moaned.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Story of the Day 3/6/2011
Most of today has been spent dragging load after load of things out of Sarah’s room.
She is not going off to college, but she is in the midst of re-decorating, and the first step is to purge her room of all the “childish” things she has spent the past 12 years collection.
Good-bye to the card tricks and magic sets, good-bye to the nerf balls and keychain collection, good-bye to a load of chapter books that she read in Elementary school, good-bye to several hundred thousand basketball cards.
And, of course, it also meant purging her closet, where even more piles of these collectibles were lurking.
Being the good mother that I am (please don’t laugh), I was helping her to shed this detritus. I was lugging off stacks of old books and toys, and as I stood waiting to collect another load from her, she screamed.
She took a huge leap back from her closet and told, me to “get it!”
“What?” I said in my clueless-ness.
“I don’t know what it is, but it is awful! Get it out of there! I don’t even want to see it!”
Well, I have spent years being the person in the family who disposed of the mice caught in the mouse traps, squashed spiders and trapped bees to release outside, so I figured it was another such lovely spider as one occasionally finds in a closet. Or perhaps a centipede.
I really do not enjoy the job of pest-disposer, but I put up with it….but I was really hoping it wasn’t a centipede, because they gross me out …
Cautiously, I approached the closet, and looked onto the shelf. Staring back at me was a very furry, very large spider.
A very furry, very large, very still spider.
“It’s dead”, I thought.
When confronted with such a very furry, very large spider, dead is a good thing. I mean for the spider to be dead.
I poked at it, and something didn’t seem quite right.
I looked closer and poked again.
“It is fake!”
This didn’t’ reassure Sarah at all. She looked at me, totally repulsed and said, “I don’t care, just get it out of here.”
Which I did. But, I do not understand her incredible fear and loathing of this fake spider. I mean, after all, she is the same person who collected it and put it in her closet only a few years ago.
But then, it occurred to me, maybe the ultimately weird thing has happened and she has turned into a girl.
“Nah,” I thought.
But then Aaron spotted the spider sitting on the “get rid of” pile and asked if he could have it. “ Hey, Mom, this is so cool!”
She is not going off to college, but she is in the midst of re-decorating, and the first step is to purge her room of all the “childish” things she has spent the past 12 years collection.
Good-bye to the card tricks and magic sets, good-bye to the nerf balls and keychain collection, good-bye to a load of chapter books that she read in Elementary school, good-bye to several hundred thousand basketball cards.
And, of course, it also meant purging her closet, where even more piles of these collectibles were lurking.
Being the good mother that I am (please don’t laugh), I was helping her to shed this detritus. I was lugging off stacks of old books and toys, and as I stood waiting to collect another load from her, she screamed.
She took a huge leap back from her closet and told, me to “get it!”
“What?” I said in my clueless-ness.
“I don’t know what it is, but it is awful! Get it out of there! I don’t even want to see it!”
Well, I have spent years being the person in the family who disposed of the mice caught in the mouse traps, squashed spiders and trapped bees to release outside, so I figured it was another such lovely spider as one occasionally finds in a closet. Or perhaps a centipede.
I really do not enjoy the job of pest-disposer, but I put up with it….but I was really hoping it wasn’t a centipede, because they gross me out …
Cautiously, I approached the closet, and looked onto the shelf. Staring back at me was a very furry, very large spider.
A very furry, very large, very still spider.
“It’s dead”, I thought.
When confronted with such a very furry, very large spider, dead is a good thing. I mean for the spider to be dead.
I poked at it, and something didn’t seem quite right.
I looked closer and poked again.
“It is fake!”
This didn’t’ reassure Sarah at all. She looked at me, totally repulsed and said, “I don’t care, just get it out of here.”
Which I did. But, I do not understand her incredible fear and loathing of this fake spider. I mean, after all, she is the same person who collected it and put it in her closet only a few years ago.
But then, it occurred to me, maybe the ultimately weird thing has happened and she has turned into a girl.
“Nah,” I thought.
But then Aaron spotted the spider sitting on the “get rid of” pile and asked if he could have it. “ Hey, Mom, this is so cool!”
Story of the Day 3 /4 /2011
I am part of my son’s routine. His stand up comedy routine.
I am sure you had already guessed this.
And I can’t blame him.
Not only that, but I gave him more material to work from when we went to the grocery store.
This was very convenient because my taking him to the grocery store is already part of one of his sets, so it will fit in nicely.
( to see what this is in reference to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WP5ZFDrM0FE&feature=player_embedded#at=138 )
So, as you know , if you know me at all, I like a good bargain. I am always checking the sale ads for the grocery store, and on my way out, I usually stop at the spot where they dump the “ markdowns” . These can be things that were seasonal (Valentine’s candy in March), goods with damaged packaging , things that just weren't popular ( someone really thought those paper plates would sell?), and , of course, cans and boxes that are close to or out of date.
While looking through the markdowns I held up a box and asked Aaron " Hey, look what I found! Do you want me to get you a box? They are nice colors?”
I signed this, but I also spoke it really loudly, since he is deaf and he hears best that way when he is opting to go the hearing aid route and is not standing right near me.
Well, apparently, imitating me dong this is going to be part of his next set. And also my response to his query as to whether or not they were out of date.
I don’t’ know why. I mean, they were a really good buy for a package of 24 condoms, and as for being out-of-date, well, if they are, it would be kind of nice to be a grandmother……
I am sure you had already guessed this.
And I can’t blame him.
Not only that, but I gave him more material to work from when we went to the grocery store.
This was very convenient because my taking him to the grocery store is already part of one of his sets, so it will fit in nicely.
( to see what this is in reference to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WP5ZFDrM0FE&feature=player_embedded#at=138 )
So, as you know , if you know me at all, I like a good bargain. I am always checking the sale ads for the grocery store, and on my way out, I usually stop at the spot where they dump the “ markdowns” . These can be things that were seasonal (Valentine’s candy in March), goods with damaged packaging , things that just weren't popular ( someone really thought those paper plates would sell?), and , of course, cans and boxes that are close to or out of date.
While looking through the markdowns I held up a box and asked Aaron " Hey, look what I found! Do you want me to get you a box? They are nice colors?”
I signed this, but I also spoke it really loudly, since he is deaf and he hears best that way when he is opting to go the hearing aid route and is not standing right near me.
Well, apparently, imitating me dong this is going to be part of his next set. And also my response to his query as to whether or not they were out of date.
I don’t’ know why. I mean, they were a really good buy for a package of 24 condoms, and as for being out-of-date, well, if they are, it would be kind of nice to be a grandmother……
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