On Rollie’s actual birthday, we were supposed to take him to the Braves game, but it was pouring and we decided maybe we should bag it and just take him to dinner. Anywhere he chose. He chose Galaxy Diner. And he wanted a banana split, dang it.
Braves clobbered the Padres and we missed it. But we had fun anyway.
By popular demand, (okay, an aunt and a couple of Grandmas), here is the video I have so far of the Tills in a tutu. . . .
This first one is Tiller and her class in the hallway at the rec center, getting some water. Kind of boring at first, but you get to see Ms. D, the bigger-than-life trashy, bleached blonde sixty-something woman, who teaches the class. She is wearing the I Love New York shirt. The first time I met her, she was dressed like Jennifer Beals in Flashdance. My neighbor said one time she taught the class wearing a “Roofers do it on top” shirt. Effin’ awesome!
I need to work on my camera skills, but it was the first time I’ve used this camera. . . . This is Tills leaving class to go to the car.
And one more on the way to the car. Really, this is all about the tutu. If you have ever met Tiller, you will realize that her in a tutu is about as funny as me in a tutu.
Rollie started Kindergarten yesterday. I took him to school, deciding to forego the bus on the first day, so as to avoid any mishaps. Ha! Joke was on me. I parked on a side road near the school. (First day of school is complete and total mayhem!) We walked through the wooded path on the backside of the school, and just as we were coming out of the trees, it happened.
Beesting.
Rollie got stung by a mother-frackin’ bee two minutes before school started on the first day of Kindergarten. So, there i was, wiping his tears, and carrying all his stuff (backpack, lunchbox, plastic Kroger bag of school supplies), and trying to find out where the nurse’s office is, then finding out that the nurse was on vacation. I finally gave up and went to the cafeteria and got him a plastic glove of ice from the lunch ladies. So, yes, while everyone else was quiet, hand over heart, saying the Pledge, and having a moment of silence, that was me leading the sniffling bee sting victim through the halls and into the cafeteria. Bee sting trumps Pledge of Allegiance, people.
We were late to the classroom of course, but I got him settled in, made sure that the teacher knew he had been stung, and dodged insinuations that I should be room mother again. I kissed him goodbye and headed out for my coffee in front of the school.
Turns out he did fine all day and had a good time. Me? I think I might make it, too.
So, this week has been crazy. I started back on Weight Watchers. I started training for the Thanksgiving Half-Marathon. Todd and I are trying to plan our basement renovations. I am writing the first monthly newsletter for my kids’ school. It has to go to the printer the same day that school starts. I am babysitting my nephew tonight and tomorrow.
Got off to a terrible start this morning when I showed up at the open house registration with the wrong paperwork. The list of required documentation said “Proof of Residency, such as a utility bill, deed, et.” I brought my Comcast bill. They said they needed a utility bill and that phone didn’t count. Since when is phone not considered a utility bill!? Luckily, Todd had one in his car and ran out and got it, but I am pretty sure that I will be known in the future as “that bitchy Mom that got all huffy over the Comcast bill.” Oh, well. I have been called worse. And would it have killed the folks at the school to apologize to me for the confusion? Am i off base here?
We proceeded to get Rollie squared away, and found his new Kindergarten classroom. His teacher seems nice, but I would be lying if I didn’t wish that her grammar was a little better. (Not sure if that makes me a snob or what. Is it too much to ask that my child’s teacher be well-spoken?) I do believe that what kids learn at home trumps what they learn in the classroom, though, and so I am sure he will be fine. And I do like that she seems kind of old school otherwise.
Anyway, it’s Wednesday, and Rollie starts back to school on Monday. It will be nice to get back on schedule. Even if it means that I am old enough to have a Kindergartner! And oh, my GOD. He is going to ride the bus. I am scared. Very scared. And busy, and I guess kind of bad for being so judgmental about my kid’s teacher.
Wait til you hear about me buying his baseball equipment. Now that is a funny story.
I love, love, love this website. What a cool idea! It also makes me jealous of all of these folks with designated work spaces.
I want the coffee table book. Fascinating.
I need me a Lady’s sitting room. A parlour. A library. An office. Whatever you call it. A place of my own, to shut the door and lock out the world.
Want.
Another sign that we made the right choice when we picked a new neighborhood . . . we stopped by a real live lemonade stand on the way back from our picnic at the park. Two freckle-faced red-headed kids were running it. They even said, “Yes, M’am” and “You’re welcome.” When questioned on what they would do with the funds, they said they were “saving for college.”
Are you kidding me?!
Rollie was like, “I’d buy hot wheels!”
Oh, and the going rate for a pink lemonade, in about a 6 oz cup, is fifty cents. They even put a slice of lemon on the edge of the cup. I am so not kidding.
What? No Dixie Cups for ten cents? I kinda miss the Dixie cup.
In case you are in the area and want to help out the enterprising young chaps, they are located between the park and my house.
Cookout. Julie Merry in town. Haven’t seen her in ages. Much fun had by all. Adults got sloshy. Kids stayed up til after ten.
So, one of my favorite things about my new neighborhood is the Bunco (Drunco) group. About a month after I moved in, my neighbor Lauren invited me to sub for her Bunco group. I had heard about Bunco, but never played. I thought it was some stupid game that suburban moms play, a kind of modern-day Bridge club.
And it is. And now I know that my mom was having a damn good time at Bridge club!
It is a blast. You put in your ten bucks. You play a dice game as mindless as Three Man, during which you discuss how much you hate your kids’ teacher, how weird that one family down the street is, the naked guy who was hanging out in the local park, and a number of other subjects not appropriate for public consumption. They feed you appetizers and all the beer and wine you can drink. At the end, the winner is a winner and the loser is a winner, too! You stumble back down the block to your house. You are back in your bed by midnight on a school night. (At least, if you want to be. There were still a good number of folks hanging out when i left at Midnight!) Last night, we even all wore our PJs!
Most of all, you get to talk to an awesome and very diverse group of women, all of whom remind you that we are all just winging it, some seemingly more together than others, but winging it just the same. You realize that you are not alone in doing the hardest job in the world.
Added plus? One of my neighbors is the brother of my childhood friend, Leigh. His wife was hostessing, so Leigh was there, and I got to hang out with her, without kids, for the first time in. . . I cannot remember the last time I saw her without kids around. In PJs, no less.
Just saw a couple in the feeder. Hadn’t seen any out there before. (Which doesn’t mean they aren’t there, just that I am a beginner birdwatcher.) The ones we saw were definitely two males.
Interestingly, groups of Goldfinches are referred to as a “Treasury,” “Charm,” “Rush,” or “Vein.” Kinda neato.
You can read more about them here. I am pretty happy that I easily identified one for once. Maybe I’m getting better at this.
To see my little girl on a soccer field. . .
