It's Been Forever!

My son found my blog at school by searching his name on Bing, and we had a good laugh over the post he found. Time has sure flown! It seems like every time I turn around it's Friday again, which is a lot better than always being Monday.

School is hard. A professor explained why when she told me about dendrites, and how if you're out of school for a long time they shrivel up. When you start back to school, they're forced to reroute and regrow. So that's why it hurts. But I'm still loving it.

In fact, today is a celebration day. I got my grade for my first really real speech in speech class. It was a 99% with compliments underlined! Yes, it's a good day. Plus, there's no school tomorrow, and my parentals are coming tonight to spend the night!!!

We've had some drama though. A predator has been killing some of my beloved birds. My beautiful golden sex link was struck down IN the chicken yard IN broad daylight! I couldn't

believe it. Then, when we were in Idaho, two Barred Rocks fled and left nought but their feet and feathers. It's a good thing I'm married to a stud, I tell you. Look what he did!

Lewis caught the culprit in the act. He dropped him in one shot, so animal lovers, he didn't feel a thing.

We are loving our little farm though. We have two goats, Cymbeline (a milk goat when she's bred) and Ophelia (a meat goat). Lewis built them this cute little barn we call the Garn. For goat barn, get it?

Aren't they such cute girls? Liam has been worried that we're going to kill them and eat them. I tell him not to worry, we're not going to eat them, just their babies. Can you pre-pay for counselling?

Their cozy little home.

My First Day of School, or Earlgirl's Descent into Hell

Look at me! I'm all excited, not knowing what humiliations are in store.

I was so prepared for today. I'd printed my schedule, walked the route I needed to take, packed my bag the night before with a bazillion pens, water and trail mix (just in case). It didn't make any difference. My day was the BOMB. Like Hiroshima. It started out great, I got pictures of me with my backpack, heading off to adventure. I left home at 8:05, which was cutting it a bit fine. That put me there with 5 minutes to make it from the parking lot to my seat. Do-able. Especially for the first day. Just as I was pulling up, I grabbed my schedule from my bag. To my horror, it wasn't my schedule, it was a receipt for my parking pass. I knew what building to go to, but I had no idea what class it was, or what room number! My heart did a little herky jerky thing, then the mom in me took over. I'd walked the route on Friday. I would remember the room when I saw it. I made it to the right building, but couldn't recognize the class room. Curses. By this time classes had started 5 minutes ago. There was nothing for it but to head to the registrar's office and get another copy. But I didn't have my pin memorized, and I didn't have it with me. I still raced to the office, and found an empty computer. I guessed my pin correctly (THANK YOU THANK YOU!) and after two tries, printed my schedule. I dashed back to the right building and made it to the exact same room I'd been hesitating over 10 minutes before. I took a deep breath, and interrupted the teacher 15 minutes into a 50 minute class. Nice. Naturally, the only seat available was front and center. I slid into it and tried to disappear. I grabbed my text and notebook and pretended that I'd been there all along. The teacher resumed his lecture, and mortification turned to horror. I had no idea what he was saying. He was using terms and symbols I didn't know existed. Was this Math 107? How could this be? Was this a dream? I need this class. NEED IT. I can't get into the Ed program without it. And he's speaking Greek in the first 15 minutes of the first day. I'm screwed. I wonder, am I in the right room? I look around me, and everyone has the same text as I do. All the while, the teacher is looking at me strangely, like "who are you?" Then I start to notice other things, like this girl to my left has pages of handwritten equations. He's calling students by name, like he already knows them. Something is wrong, very wrong. He's asking them if anyone had any problems with the homework. Then my heart stops. And I know. Today isn't the first day of school. I've gotten the day wrong. As soon as he finishes, I'm up there in a flash. "Um, you know those nightmares you have about the first day of school? I'm living one right now." I explain my mistake, and assure him that I'm actually a responsible adult and the mother of 5 sons, and an exchange student, who's waited 15 years to go to school, and I thought this was the first day, and how screwed actually am I? He laughs and fills me in on the mountain of assignments I've missed. I thank him, apologize again, and sprint across campus to my next class. Every other teacher laughed with me and got me up to speed. As I drove toward home, I was laughing hysterically. No schedule. 15 minutes late. Showing up on the 3rd day of class. At least I wasn't naked, right?

I'm So Jealous. I Want to be Jewish after Seeing This:

Dear Middle School Writing Teacher:

Upon receiving my very own writing assignment. Logan declined to answer some very personal questions with unswerving veracity. I allowed him to complete the assignment as a work of fiction.
Example:
Who is your greatest hero?
Adolf Hitler, because he can grow a killer mustache. (Get it? Killer?)
What is your least favorite chore?
Plasma donation day.
What would be your most cherished gift?
My very own bed in the house, the shed roof leaks in the rain.
What is your favorite subject at school?
Lunch, it's the only meal I get all day.
What is your greatest accomplishment?
Learning to wipe myself was the best 13th birthday present I could give myself.
What is your greatest aspiration?
To be first lady of the United States.
Do you feel like the kids at school like you?
They laugh every time I come near, so they must like me a lot!
What is your least favorite subject?
Gym, for what happens to me in the locker room.
What is your biggest complaint about your family?
They make me dress in girls clothes at home.

It went on and on, and we laughed until we cried.
Then she sent the assignment home for the parents to fill out. What? To test us to see how well we know our child. Nuh uh. Not going to happen.
I wrote this letter and stapled it to the assignment.

Dear Teacher,

When Logan brought the interest inventory home, he was very uncomfortable with the assignment. He felt that his biggest fears, disappointments and embarrassments are something he’d rather keep to himself. The sharing of personal details like that occurs best when a relationship of respect and trust has been developed, and he has simply not had the time or opportunity to develop that with you. I understand that the ability to access strong emotional experiences is vital for good writing, and such introspection doesn’t come naturally to middle schoolers. Becoming self aware is an important process that I applaud.

Inventories like this also could be valuable for assessing the mental health or family stability of a student. Please rest assured that Logan is a valued and loved member of our very intact family. In fact, filling out his inventory was a bonding family activity that made us laugh until we cried. He had my encouragement to make it a work of fiction. Writing fiction is still writing, and I hope you enjoyed it as much as we did.

Giving parents a writing assignment makes me equally as uncomfortable as it made Logan. It reminds me of the time my CPS-worker sister did a bonding assessment on my toddler and me unawares, long before she became a parent. So I guess we both found the assignment intrusive and kind of freaky. We can’t decide; is it a nosey getting-to-know-you exercise, or a let’s see how well these parents know their kid exercise? Either one, we’d rather abstain.

Logan loves to write. He’s been writing fifty-plus page stories for years. He will enjoy learning all that you have to teach him this year. He’s a great kid with a positive attitude, and he’ll knock himself out trying to please you and perform up to your expectations. Just don’t expect him to dish about his private bidness.

Reclusively yours,

Earlgirl

Sweet September

What's sweet about September? Not much, but does roll off the tongue, doesn't it? Our big news is that a skunk killed both our ducks! Kit Kat and Sweaty Bicep, alas, are no more. We set traps and on the second night, the mystery killer was revealed. It was none other than an adorable skunk. Seriously, it had the sweetest face! Of course, I didn't see its face until after it was dead and I was in no danger of being sprayed....


This is our dead skunk. Lewis was merciful, and put it to sleep under a tarp with fumes piped in from a tube in the exhaust pipe. It doesn't look like a vicious killer, does it?
But this is what it did to me sweet little Leghorn that was just getting ready to lay thundreds of eggs for me.
Note to Skunk: Don't come between me and my beloved chickies and/or ducks. The fumes of justice will seep in upon you.

Did This Just Really Happen?

How could time have flown like this? I went from this, in 2005,

To this 2 year old in 2007 wistfully watching his best buddies leave him,
To this confident boy, ready to take on life. I just put this kiddo on a school bus, and as he made his big leap into the wide, wide world, I felt a giant tug under my ribs.
There he goes!


There he is, sitting next to Kelton peeking over the seat.

So proud of you Liam!

Making Tear Soup

A sweet friend stopped by yesterday and gave me a present. When I opened it up, there was a children's book called Tear Soup. Along with the story, there was a journal, a very applicable copy of a conference talk, and a letter from her. She is also acquainted with grief, and her words touched my heart so much that there are puckers on the letter now. I laid down and read the story. Lewis has been out of town, so I really had time to think and ponder. I went out to the shop and dug up all the photos of Michael I could find. I started writing in the journal all the things Michael's children will want to know about him. An idea hit me, and I scoured my old email archives and found a treasure trove of communication between us. I cleaned the house and got some really cleansing sobbing done. I feel a little better for it. I found some really fun pictures too.


Did you know gmail keeps a record of every IM session? I didn't, and I'm so glad they do! Take a look at one I found:

2:54 PM michael: Hey sis,

me: Hello Brutha'

2:57 PM michael: How's life?

me: busy, exciting, and stretching me. you?

2:59 PM michael: nice, I'm in the lull time of the day. these are the only thirty minutes of my day until I go to sleep that I can relax.

me: I'm kinda doing that too.

3:00 PM michael: so, any new drama?

3:01 PM me: yeah, an electrical inspector came by that could have cost us 20,000. But it didn't. I almost cried. Just a few lilttle changes to the basement bathroom, and all this well.

3:03 PM michael: hurray!

we might have made new friends,

me: yeah? anyone interesting?

michael: Jen has been so starved for friends she been getting a little depressed

3:04 PM they live down the street and have a great Dane 2 six feet albino boas and a bearded dragon

me: you're not friend enough for her? What is she, some kind of women's libber?

michael: and they shoot guns for fun!

3:05 PM I guess not

me: wow, they sound cool!

I know I love my friends. We've been appreciating the beauty of gerard butler today.

3:06 PM michael: I'm always cautions when I start hanging out with people. but Jen just throws herself into friendships

Who is that?

3:07 PM me: who's that? Gerard Butler of 300 fame?

michael: ?

me: Holy hunk of manliness fame? We've been watching P.S. I love you.

3:08 PM You've never seen the cover of the movie 300?

michael: are you talking about the guy in 300?

spartans?

me: yeah. gerard butler.

3:09 PM michael: oh okay, crazy movie

yep very manily

me: never seen it.

3:11 PM michael: clean flicks. I loved it until a bad guy forces this guys wife to sleep with him. that kind of stuff enrages me. so the whole movie has a bad taste in my mouth

me: gotta dash, kid in a tree!

It just makes me smile. Our conversations were frequently about nothing much, but there were the ones, usually when we were walking together, that I never want to forget. I'm glad I have a special journal now to record them in. So this has been an intense weekend, but a good one. The story helped me realize that I don't have to sidestep the hard days. I'm just making tear soup and that's part of the process of healing.