Wake up call…

Standard

Hello from Los Angeles!’ I wasn’t sure I would have a blog for you today. However let me tell you…the boy called me at 4:30 am LA time this morning; waking me up from a deep slumber. “Hello” I said in a gravely voice. “Hi momma!” The boy said through the receiver. “Bay it’s 4:30 in the morning here” I replied. “Oh I’m sorry, I just wanted to tell you I love and miss you” her replied. “I love you too have a great day at school” I said before hanging up.

My roommate Cathie asked “Did he just call to tell you he loves you?” “Yep” I said, a little worried the call woke her up too. “That is so sweet! They grow up so fast, then leave…. What a good boy”. Lying there I smiled; he is a sweet boy.

Later when I talked with my hubby I told him about the phone call “Oh Jeeze!” He said embarrassed. “I know, but he effectively let me know he was up and ready for school on his own…in the best and sweetest possible way.” I said. “I suppose…” He reasoned “Guess I’ll need to beat him later…” He replied.

“Yeah”

Oh boy!

Standard

Last week the boy’s High school hosted a “Meet the Teachers” night, which my hubby and I attended. Failing to bring a pen with us, I took notes via my IPhone. “What are you doing?” My hub whispered to me. “Taking notes” I replied.”Good idea” He said and I smirked. Then as luck would have it, another parent shushed us. Ah yes school is back in session.

Notes: Meet the teachers:

PowerSchool opens Monday 8/24
Picture day is tomorrow-bay must take a shower in the morning.

Integrated Math 2: OGT still in play. Math Lab avail 3-5 Wednesday for help in Math. Higher expectations for honors students. *need to get tutor lined up.
Active use of Moodle for the classroom.
Gmoore

Phys ed:
Exam: 20% of grade…phys fitness standards.

Am history: Marty McGurk

Text book must come home and returned daily. He must read the assigned text. He must write. He has 4 book reports due this year.
Must read 4 pages a day. Tests 100 HW section reviews-1 wk to do the work. If turned in early they get 5 extra points.

Anatomy: Chris Doyle

They must wear goggles and over sized shirts when dissecting cats. They may have the opportunity to see a cadaver.. Eww or cool…hope the boy doesn’t toss his cookies…or faint.

Lots of hands on learning. Did I go to HS with her? She looks familiar…check yrbk later.
Essay due Monday.

Religion: Emily Mislan
Marble composition notebooks needed for class by Monday. Will keep journals in notebook.
A response to a prompt. Notebooks will be collected on random days.
HW must be in tray b4 bell rings to start class or basic fail.
*first year teacher…please don’t argue bay!!

French:
Bring supplies everyday…workbook…
HW 30% quizzes 20% chapter test 20% project 10%
Homework must be on the desk before prayers. Oral participation is key! Quiz on spelling, vocab soon. Lots of advance notice on tests and quizzes. Next week. Must help boy get over embarrassment of trying to speak French out loud w/o students.

Am Literature: Mrs. Mihalik
Must bring all supplies to class. The binder is very very important. Organization is key!! No late HW allowed. Organization is key? Not allowed to carry papers in a stack? Must be neatly placed in binder? Dear Lord, Dear LORD!!  the boy is screwed!!

Very tough class schedule!!!

When we arrived home I looked at the boy and with heavy concern in my voice I said, “Oh my God bay!! I’m so worried for you. This year is going to be HARD! You need to turn in your homework the moment your feet touches the threshold of the classroom. They will not be asking for it…this is all up to you!!” Looking back at me he nodded his head and said, “I’m already aware of all implications”. “Are you?” I asked again. “Yes Mom, where do you think I’ve been the last three days? All of the teachers have explained this to us thoroughly” he replied. “But bay…I mean it…they are not going to take any shit from you!” I kept trying to emphasize. “Mom!! I got it!” He raised his voice and frustrated his reply back to me.

Looking back to is father we both sighed and said “We hope so….” We really really do.

 

tears from the clown….

Standard

The Horse Whisperer. The Eye of the Beholder. Shakespeare In Love. Midnight Cowboy. Beneath the Planet of the Apes.

******

We try to attend our weekly church mass service on Saturday afternoons. This affords us the opportunity to “sleep in” both weekend days, which on average is something I strive for, but succeed rarely. But I digress. This past weekend, the boy asked his father, “When can we see the movie Guardians of the Galaxy?” and his father’s response was  “Perhaps this Sunday…we’ll have to see.

******

“Mom I’m so bored…” the doll said. “Can’t we go see a good movie or something?” she asked me a few moments later. “Well your dad spoke with the boy earlier about doing just that” I replied. “What movie?” “Guardians of the Galaxy” I replied happily-as I’ve heard some very good things about the movie. “UHHHHGGGGGG” the doll replied. “What? Don’t you want to see this movie?” I asked her. “Yes, but not Sunday…” She whined in return. “Oh brother, you want to see that sappy movie “If I Stay” don’t you? Smiling at me she replied, “Exactly”. “Doll, that’s supposed to be a tear jerker, do you really want to sit through that?” I asked a little leery of her response. “Mom haven’t you ever been in the mood for a good cry? That’s what I’m in the mood for…” She explained.

*******

So the doll and I went to the cry jerker movie while the boys went off to see the action flick, at two different movie theaters. At some point while we waiting for the movie to begin I asked the doll if she had enough tissue to sustain her through the movie. “You know everyone can hear you, keep your voice down.” She replied. In a slightly louder voice I replied, “Good…because maybe they can share their tissues with you”. In typical doll response, she rolled her eyes and said, “I hate you”. “What-Period-Ev Period Er Doll” I replied, which was met with another eye roll. Finally after wading through what seemed like hours of advertisements and previews the movie began and we both were swept away.

Occasionally I would look over to see if she, like I; was crying. While I used the tissues I set out, she used her shirt sleeve to wipe away her tears, much to my dismay. But when the movie came to an abrupt end, I leaned over and said, “Worst ending to a movie ever!” to her. “What? That’s the end?” She asked to no one in particular. “Are you kidding me?” She asked again. Slowly we began to hear the rumblings and complaints from the people around us, “Did they end it there so they would have a reason to make another movie?” “What is that supposed to mean?” “Maybe if we sit through the credits there will be a surprise at the end-to explain this ending…” So many of us sat there numb; having wasted tears on such a dumb movie ending. “It was such a good movie until then…” The doll offered. “Next time you want to see a tear jerker, you and I can watch Beaches or Terms of Endearment together” I offered. A short time later as we exited the theater still shaking our heads at the travesty.

Though…I dare say, the doll and I may have had different perspectives of this travesty…she was upset with how the movie ended while I was upset I lost good money to have my emotions manipulated, yet given no resolution in the end. In effect I want my money back. Since this won’t happen my only choice is to store the movie in the imaginary file I keep for movies I wish I could get my time spent viewing as well as monies spent to watch.

The Horse Whisperer. The Eye of the Beholder. Shakespeare In Love. Midnight Cowboy. Beneath the Planet of the Apes. If I Stay.

Trust Issues….

Standard

Over the weekend, every time I opened my Facebook page, I was inundated with videos of friends, neighbors and the  occasional famous person, dumping buckets of ice water onto their heads. What began as a simple way to bring attention to ALS has turned into a world-wide phenomenon that has garnered more than $79.2 million dollars to aid in the research to find a cure for this horrific disease. I participated in the event last Monday after being challenged by my good friend Lynda and my sister Ann Marie and had the opportunity to nominate three people to do the challenge  and or make a donation.

While I was standing there preparing to dump the water upon my head, I looked over at my doll and said, “You’re next”. “Don’t you dare mom, you’ll embarrass me!” She replied. Ah yes, I would, but isn’t that a mother’s prerogative? Ultimately, I chose three people with whom I knew would do the most with the challenge. Two of the three participated on camera, while I have no doubt the third made a very nice donation instead. Yet as the videos began to scroll across my timelines, throughout the week, I began hearing rumblings from others, tired of seeing them.

We all seem to have such short attention spans nowadays. For me the ALS videos were a welcome respite from the usual political videos and commentary littered across my FB page. In a time when the world seems to be going to hell in a hand basket, what I found most remarkable about the IceBucketChallenge, besides the amazing amount of money raised, was the look of sheer joy on the faces of those who participated. They all looked as if  they had overcome something difficult or achieved greatness upon doing so. At the end of my video, my daughter with whom I spared, can be heard laughing. When I watch the video, I’m captured, not by my act of silliness, but rather on how beautiful a laugh she has.

Saturday the doll accepted the challenge from her friend Twin and participated in the challenge not once, but twice. The first time we employed the boy to help. Speaks volumes on the lack of trust between teenaged siblings, when I tell you, she couldn’t put aside the fear he would dump the water on her before she was ready or mentally prepared. He acted goofy which caused her to stop talking to the camera; scared to have him stand behind her, holding the bucket. “Doll I won’t go until I have the green light from mom” He kept saying, yet she didn’t believe him. After finally giving him the green light to drench his sister, the doll grabbed a towel and announced, “I’m doing that over…without the boy!” Who am I to argue? I got two videos for the price of one. Videos, by the way, showing joy upon their faces and providing hope for those afflicted.

I say, keep them coming!!

If I knew how to scrub names from videos I’d post both here…instead you’ll have to be satisfied with a few stills…

Ahhhh!! The boy yelled as he dumped.

Ahhhh!! The boy yelled as he dumped.

 

 

I Hate you boy!!

I Hate you boy!!

celebrating youth…?

Standard

The Irish playwriter, George Bernard Shaw’s”Youth is wasted on the young”  quote was first applied to me when I was a teenager. For the longest time after,  I didn’t understand what it meant or why it was directed at me; so I shrugged it off. Jump ahead twenty years or so, when my own children came along and I became acutely aware what the quote meant in the context of my world. Furthermore, I wholeheartedly agree…to a point.

My friend Mary Alice is the “point”.

My friend Mary Alice is very much like a little kid at times. She’s always in a good mood, even when she’s troubled by something. She’s always happy to see me, even if she doesn’t remember my name-she still knows who I am. What’s more,  she laughs at all my silly jokes and finds humor in everyday life. Typically she’s a go with the flow kind of gal. She likes it when we sing old songs… “Gonna take a sentimental journey…gonna set my heart at ease…” or silly nursery rhymes “If all of the raindrops were lemon drops and gum drops, oh what a time that would be…”. Yesterday as we walked around the park I announced, “Today’s selections are great songs sung horribly by me”. She laughed and said, I’d sing them horribly too” Which made us both laugh harder.  One day last winter, when we were trapped inside by the bitter cold conditions, I cleared off her long kitchen table and we played match box derby, sending toy cars from one end to the other-trying not to have them land on the floor. She succeeded more often times than not…the same could not be said for me.

I suppose one you reach a certain age, if the conditions are right, there is a chance you will start reverting back to your younger days and ways. After talking with Mary Alice’s youngest daughter Julie the other day, she explained, “Thank goodness Mom’s personality has remained intact; the same. My mother has always been a very youthful type mom. Only now-today, she no longer worries like she once did.”

I suppose that’s one of the blessings in all of this.

Yesterday was Mary Alice’s birthday-and I had the privilege to hang out and celebrate the day with her. As a lark, I asked friends on Twitter and Facebook to join me in wishing her a happy birthday-which many of them did. I almost felt like it was my birthday–all the birthday wishes to her on my timelines’ was  the best birthday card I could have ever given to her. When her daughter Karen arrived home from work to relieve me, I pulled up all the birthday wishes everyone had offered and showed them to her-reading them aloud for Mary Alice to hear. “Who’s birthday is it?” Mary Alice asked.  “Silly, it’s yours!!” I said and we laughed and giggled some more.

Who says youth is wasted on the young?

Not Mary Alice.

 

the doll….version 12.6-714/15

Standard

Did you know Monday was Percy Jackson’s Birthday and all of Percy Jackson Fandom (or maybe one or two tween girls) celebrated by making Blue cookies in his honor?

“Mom, can I make some blue cookies?” the doll asked Sunday. “Why?” “Tomorrow is Percy Jackson’s birthday and blue is his favorite color” She explained. “No…” “C’mon mom, look at what this girl did…” handing me her IPod to reveal a nice picture featuring a bunch of blue cookies”. “Yes, and we know she actually made these how?” I asked. “What do you mean?” the doll asked giving me a “duh mom” look. “How do we know she didn’t just steal a picture of blue cookies from Photobucket or something similar and then take credit for making them?” I wondered. “Like she would do that!” the doll replied. A little later she conceded, “You know that’s not a bad idea…but I would never do that.”

*********

Monday night the doll began telling me all about the new students in her class, the new teachers, etc, among many other things. All of a sudden in the middle of her conversation, she stopped, looked at me and said, “Why am I telling you all of this? I must really be bored!” Then made an abrupt exit, leaving me hanging…like from a cliff. “Fine, see if I do anything nice for you in the future…” I shouted after her, before shaking my head thinking to myself “What then heck?”

**************

The doll entered the kitchen Tuesday night with a down trodden look upon her face. Before I knew what was happening, she leaned into my right shoulder and began crying. Wrapping my arms around her I asked, “Why are you crying?” To which she replied, “I don’t know….” and then sobbed harder. So I held her, rubbed my hand up and down her back in a soothing pattern and just held on, for however long she allowed. After a few minutes she looked up and I wiped away her tears. Releasing her from my hug, she slid to the side where we stood next to one another; leaning against the kitchen counter. “Are you having trouble with your homework?” I asked. “A little.” She acknowledged. “Do you want my help?” I asked. Shaking her head “No” I nodded and said, “Okay” and then wiped a few more tears from her face. Looking back at me she said, “Thanks for the shoulder Mom”. “Anytime doll, anytime.” I replied.

********

“Mom I’m craving chocolate really bad!” The doll announced. “Well make some chocolate chip cookies…” I suggested. “Can I make them blue?” The image alone made me shudder. Thinking back on her tears earlier I said, “I…uh, I don’t know if we have any blue food coloring” I said, knowing full well we did. “If I find some….can I make some blue chocolate chip cookies?” Not really finding any reason to say no, I gave her the green light-er blue light to go ahead.

IDK ...they look more like cow patty's than blue choc. chip cookies...but they tasted the same.

IDK …they look more like cow patty’s than blue choc. chip cookies….

 

odd stuff….

Standard

We all have our weird days and moments. They just seem to happen. Sometimes when they do I think to myself, “Remember this for later…” Or I’ll take a picture with my IPhone with the hopes the picture will jog my memory. Many times I have pictures of the dumbest stuff and wonder what the heck I was thinking. But I digress. This short week has been filled with lots of weird stuff…perhaps because I’ve been fighting a chest cold and my perspective is off. Regardless, I’ll let you decide. Frankly this all may be another case of me losing my mind.

******

On Monday I was asked my Mary Alice’s family to collect a urine sample and drop it off at a nearby lab for testing. I’ve done these things hundreds of times for myself and children and didn’t think much about the task at hand. A short time later, Mary Alice and I entered the lab and I instructed her to have a seat.  After standing in line for a few minutes the Counter woman asked “May I help you?” “Yes, I have this sample to deliver, where do I put this?” I said holding up the bag containing the sample and an information sheet. “Oh there is a red bin, right around the corner, just set the sample in there”. She instructed. Turning I walked around the corner of the office and found a red bin; asked one of the Phlebotomist’s if this were the correct one-which she indicated was correct and placed the sample inside.Then I turned and grabbed Mary Alice’s hand so we could quickly leave the office.

Just then the Counter woman said, “Oh Sir…sir, does that sample have all the paperwork included?”

Was she talking to me?

I looked at Mary Alice for a moment then turned back to face the woman. “What? Are you talking to me?” I asked. “Yes sir, is the paperwork inside with the sample?” I nodded my head, then turned to leave. But not before saying, “Did she just call me a sir? Do I look like a man?” I asked to no one in particular. Mary Alice, God love her replied, “No…” and then began to laugh with an air of  “That’s ridiculous” in her tone. ” My reply was typical Me…”Well I know I’m a little heavier than I should be, but can’t you see I have breasts?”

We didn’t stick around for a reply as we continued out the door. I began to laugh-as in all honesty this was funny. Also to be fair to the woman I have to say, my chest cold that day resulted in me having a very deep voice. In addition I was wearing an oversized T-shirt-so who knows if she could in fact see the outline of my breasts;  I wasn’t wearing much in the way of make-up and I recently had my hair cut pretty short. All the perfect elements for misidentification….

Or perhaps the woman needs a new prescription for her glasses.