Potent quotables

The following are actual quotes from conversations in my kitchen - the participant(s) shall remain nameless.

"I like that Sharon Falin, but I don't think LaBamba is really that bad"

"you know, when you're older you should eat a banana every day because of the citrus"

"I didn't know that Larry King was a S. E. X. freak, did you?" (sex was spelled out so the kids; ages 11 and 9, wouldn't understand - I got the single raised eyebrow from Jackson for that one)

"I don't listen to Westrick much anymore, but have you heard of Brooks and Dunn? They're breaking up."

Was he conscious? "No, he was awake and talking."

And from Teddy:

Ted: You know what would be great?

Me: No, what?

Ted: If I was on a cruise ship along with the swedish bikini team and the lotion boy got sick and I looked just like him. (looking wistfully skyward) Yeah, that would be really great.

Me: Go to bed

Camela

Jackson's big day

Little Toot Run
I've mentioned it before at some point, but it's a mile long race at the elementary school one grade at a time. It's only a practice race until 3rd grade and then it's real. I have no idea what the difference is as last year they all lined up and started at the same time and ran a mile and ended up with a winner in 2nd grade - but way back in 2nd grade it was just pretend. But this year, in third grade it's for real.... whatever. In 2nd grade Jackson came in 2nd place and for a year he's been pining away for the real 3rd grade version because he just knew he was going to win. Jackson is a very fast runner, in any sport he plays if he's not the fastest kid on the court or field it's a surprise - but.... we're talking about a basketball court at the shortest and a soccer field at the biggest. It's certainly true that he can almost always outrun any other kid to the ball or pass everyone else on his way to a TD, and that is certainly a wonderful skill, but these are not long distances and the Little Toot Run is a mile long.

For a year and a half (it was postponed from the fall because of bad weather) he's been talking about this race; seemingly hanging much of his self worth on it. Many a day he'll come rushing up to me "Mom, can I go jog around the neighborhood, I need to work on my stamina".... "uh, sure dear, that's a great idea". Brad and I have been working all year long to make this less of a make or break thing for him with extremely limited success. We've also been stressing that a mile is a lot longer than the length of a football field and he can't sprint the whole way - we've had better luck with that one.... So this brings me to this year's Official Little Toot Run. - thank God.

For weeks he's been talking about how he's going to win. There are a lot of kids in 3rd grade; he might win, sure. I don't think it's out of the question, but honey, it's okay if you don't win. Please let him get that! As it approaches he tells us he's getting nervous. I think it's good that he can express that, maybe there will be a release valve yet. The night before he can't sleep because his infamous stomach hurts and he's going to throw up.. of course you are... I quickly put him in my bed to sleep and turn on some boring tv and he finally falls asleep. I have to leave early the next morning and I think there are better than even odds Brad won't be able to get him to go to school as he'll be hunched over his favorite bucket, but when I leave he seems chipper and I keep my fingers crossed. Okay this is going to be a stupid long post.

Brad is volunteering for the day long event at his school, they do it grade by grade; 5th, 4th, then 3rd. Finally it's time and the 3rd grades file out of the school.... only Jackson is not with his class. Brad asks his teacher and she tells him that 5 minutes ago Jackson started crying saying his stomach hurt and is with the nurse... of course he is.... The kids are just coming out to get final instructions and then to start the race, so Brad runs inside and finds Jack hunched over his favorite in-school bucket sobbing. Of course knowing Jack will be beside himself with regret if he doesn't at least try to run this stupid race somehow Brad managed to convince my son, the worlds most stubborn human being, to come out and give it a try. I'm not sure I could have done it, but I'm not nearly as nice as Brad.

Jack clings to Brad sniffling while the rest of the monotonous instructions are given all the while Brad is praying - please hurry up, I'm not sure he's going to last much longer... Finally they're off and he seems to be fine. He's in the middle of the pack for the first couple of laps and on the final straight away before the big up hill finish he starts passing people. When they get to the hill he's in third place. He passes one guy and it's just his friend Niall left in front of him. He passes Niall. Niall passes him. He passes Niall. Niall passes him. They both lunge for the finish line and cross in a dead heat - the race is declared a tie.... Jackson took a sharp right hand turn after crossing the line, dropped to his knees and threw up. Well at least he waited till he was done. I have no idea how he would have handled not winning - clearly something we have to work on - so I'm awfully glad he got a blue ribbon to bring home. And there's no one better to have shared the victory with than Niall - what a great kid he is!

The finger gun
Later that same day.... Jackson is at recess with all the rest of the 8 and 9 year old kids in third grade and he's running around with a bunch of boys and he aims his fingers in a gun like fashion at one of them and they all end up hauled to the vice principal's office. I truly don't know the whole story, maybe it was in fact worse and somehow these kids in their La La school in our ritzy little school district where the biggest offense is mixing plaids with stripes (okay that's not fair or true, but this is a far far cry from anything like a violent place) were actually contemplating real live violence but I'd bet all our salaries combined that it wasn't so. Anyway - it's bad enough that my 9 year old is in the office for pulling his fingers on some other 9 year old boy but then - the VP had the audacity to ask my son if he had access to a gun at home.

Okay, let's review here shall we... guns are legal in this country. Many, many a boy (or girl for that matter) has been hunting by the ripe old age of 9... wait let me review... guns are legal, you nit wit. Though that is so far from the point I can't stand myself. I can only assume that her question was to determine if the offending finger was in fact a substitute for the real thing he was planning to bring in to off the kid with the next day. What is the possible reason for asking a 9 year old in quiet little suburbia this question - because you think there's a real danger out there and you need to cover your bases. Does common sense not come into play here? Jack has never shown the slightest hint towards violence. It was a bunch of friends who all happen to be 8 and 9 year old boys playing on a playground; laughing and having a good time. And yet, she needs to know if he has access to a real gun at home - that must have been some finger.

And then... she calls Brad so he can confirm Jack's answer of 'No, he does not have access to a gun at home.' Because what????? What would the next step have been if the answer happened to have been yes?? Did I mention, guns are legal? So Brad calls me to share how friggin' stupid this whole thing is and I am pissed. I tell him I'm going to call the principal, cuz come on, are you kidding me. I'll give you an extremely generous pass - maybe - for sending the 9 year old boys to the principals office for pulling the deadly finger on the playground - but "Jackson, do you have access to a gun at your house?" "Brad, is it true that Jackson does not have access to a gun in your home?" - that's just gone too damn far for me. I call and leave a message. Brad emails me and asks me to cc him on any email I send to her. I have a history of blistering emails that he does not always fully support (did I mention he's the nice one?).

She finally calls back
Her: I assume you're calling about the lunch time incident
Me: Actually I'm calling for a variety of reasons including that, but let's start there. What do you want me to do, cut off his fingers? He's a 9 year old boy.

The conversation with her actually went very well. She apologized all around; for him coming to the office in the first place, and most specifically for the questions about gun access.

But later when I recounted the conversation with Brad - he was not remotely amused....
Brad: YOU STARTED WITH THAT??? YOU COULDN'T EASE INTO IT? GOOD GOD WOMAN!

We told Jackson when he got home, that it was the stupidest thing in the world and that he did nothing wrong and he was not remotely in trouble, but that he should probably try to avoid aiming his fingers at school anymore as they seem to freak out about it. He readily agreed.

Camela

Saturday

7:15am - Brad and Ted leave to get to the baseball field in time to warm up before Ted's 8am baseball game. Ted pitches 2 no hit innings, has a few good defensive plays, is walked and ends up stealing 2nd, 3rd, and home. He's wildly excited by how well his sports day is going.

8:45am - Brad and Ted leave baseball do a quick change in the car and head over to the soccer fields for his 9am soccer game. Luckily the soccer fields aren't too far from the baseball fields in our county.

8:50am - Jackson and I head to the soccer fields as well.

9:00am - Soccer starts and Ted has a pretty good game, though it took him some time to get into "soccer mode". I'm thinking he was so pumped about his baseball performance it took a while to get his head onto the soccer field, but it eventually got there and they ended up in a 2-2 tie with one of the best teams in his league.

9:15am - Brad and Jackson head out to Jack's 10am swimming lesson in the next town over.

10:00am - Ted's game ends and he and I make our way home.

11:00am - Jack's lesson ends and he and Brad make their way home.

11:30am - Jack and Brad wolf down some food and do a quick change and head off to his 12N flag football practice.

12:45pm - I head to the football field for the game

1:00pm - Jack's game starts. He has a great game as well - he has a long run for a touch down in the first half, then also ran in the 2 point conversion. And in the 2nd half he caught a interception for a TD.

2:00pm - Brad, Jackson, and I head home in two cars and I promptly fell asleep.

I know, I know - half of you out there had worse schedules this weekend, but I think 4 sports in 4 hours is just too damn much - but the boys had fun and that's all that really matters... right?

Camela

Concert clothes

Teddy has a band adjudication tomorrow... Great. Should I go, should I skip it? Where's Brad? Well of course he managed to fly out of town so he gets to unfortunately he has to miss it. They leave the school at 3:45pm and need to be picked up at a local high school at 8:30. And he's playing when you ask. Uh... yeah, no idea. So I could sit there with Jack all evening as he'd probably like me to or I could take Jack home and get his homework done and give him some down time and then go pick Ted up. Which do you think I'll pick?

But as I've mentioned elsewhere - first things first. I must find the concert clothes. I've known about this thing for a while - but did it ever once occur to me that he needed his concert clothes? Nope. Did the fact that the band director mentioned it help my poor brain click onto this bit of reality - Nope, not so much. Did it occur to my ever so organized husband? Man I hope not, cuz if it did and he didn't think it was worth mentioning before he headed off down south I might have to kill him - but I digress. If I'd thought about it before - say even yesterday of course I would have Teddy find his own clothes - my God the boy is nearly 12 years old. But as Teddy is the definition of an 'absent minded, easily distracted, can't find the shoes on my own feet' kind of kid I think that with 2 hours to go before they need to be packed up for tomorrow it's significantly safer and more peaceful for all involved if I go and find them.

Of course I disguise this as him looking for them with me helping him and he immediately goes to the bottom of his closet - I hope this is a valuable clue. He paws through a variety of Legos and cars and all manner of things I'm not sure I want to know about and comes up with a single black shoe. Okay, let me look. I went and got a small chair to sit on to save my back from what I suspected would be an arduous process and got to work. I found at least an industrial sized load and a half worth of clothes on the floor of his closet. There were seriously 20 pairs of underwear. Where did he even get 20 pairs of underwear. I do recall buying him some new underwear not that long ago after he complained of no longer having any that fit him.... Oh you gullible woman!

But once all the clothes were thrown into the middle of his room creating a 12 foot tall pile I found the second shoe as well as 2 white dress shirts and a pair of black dress pants. We were so in business!!! Of course the pants were size 10 slim. Teddy is a slim kid. But he'll be 12 in less than 4 months - I was doubtful. He did manage to get them on, but let me tell you this was not a good look - and I can't imagine breathing was much fun for him. He found some Navy pants - he told me he was sure the band director would be fine with it, after all as a percussionist he's in the back and who would notice. I told him not to point it out to anyone and if anyone noticed to tell them - "man, my mom was supposed to send the black pants, she must have gotten confused" he seemed okay with that while I totally sweated whether or not that was an okay thing to say to the kid. (of course he is a kid who has no idea of what tact is or when not to throw the truth into someone's face so maybe a bit of sanctioned plausible deniability isn't such a bad thing for him - if this had been Jack, the best liar in all the land, - I never in a million years would have gone there).

But alas - the blue pants were also a size 10 slim - he could barely get them over his feet - both pairs - where in God's name did we get 2 pairs of navy (go Navy beat Army) pants? but that's beside the point at the moment - Okay back to square one. (no not square one I must remind myself - I have the shoes and the socks and the shirt). I will buy you a pair of pants and bring them to school tomorrow before the bus leaves. (will I manage to work a full day sometime this month I wonder?).. Oh Brad - how do you always manage to miss all this fun?... As a last ditch effort I go through each item of clothing in all the drawers in his dresser, confident I won't find any black pants there and low and behold I find a pair of size 10 (not slim) black pants still with the tags on - we are such efficient people (not). They sort of almost fit him. Too short - but he's a budding geek and likes his pants too short and too tight - but don't in any way hamper breathing and they look almost normal. - We are back to "good to go!" woo hoo.

Now we've had to have a 3 hour long conversation (slight exaggeration) about whether or not it's okay to wear a clearly visible green Philadelphia Eagles shirt on under his white shirt.
Me: Why? I stupidly ask.
Ted: Because when the concert's over I can take off the white shirt and it will feel SO much better.
Me: What if you just go to the bathroom and change your shirt - perhaps you'll actually need to use the rest room at some point and you can take advantage of already being there.
Ted: (indignantly) I won't have to use the rest room
Me: why is that dear - do you have super human powers and don't use the facilities like the rest of us?
Ted: (as if I'm the stupidest person alive for not knowing this) I have never once ever had to go to the bathroom after a concert. (insert eye roll)
Me: okay dear, we're done talking about this - get in bed.

Camela

This and that

Brad
Has been in Indianapolis since Saturday for the Final 4. He has a friend who gets lots of swag showered on him because of his job and occasionally Brad gets the benefit of that... so fun for him. They watched both games on Saturday and then on Sunday they played golf (Brad said it was the quietest he's ever seen a golf course - I guess Easter Sunday isn't a big golfing day...) then played in a poker tournament. Brad said he must have been placed with a table of professionals... either that or he seriously sucks. Tonight they're at the final game and then he has a 7am flight home tomorrow morning.

Ted and Jack
Are on spring break and attending a sports camp. They came home seriously dragging today. I clearly didn't send enough food with them. I'm thinking I'll triple what I sent them with today when they go tomorrow.

Me
I spent hours this weekend over 2 days cleaning out and reorganizing my closet. I moved lots of things around to make a lot more sense. Created a big pile of give away stuff. Got the shoes under control. Found the entire floor again - not just the path there in the middle. It still wasn't fully done but it was in great shape and I was thrilled. I came home today from work and.... the tallest shelf that was full of out of season stuff and whatnot... had come away from the wall and everything had tumbled to the ground. No more floor anymore. Not even a little path. I got everything picked up - the floor is back, but I still have to rehang the shelf and I'm tired after a long Monday at work and a variety of chores at home... but here I go...

Camela