3:29 p.m. - Sunday, Oct. 21, 2001
Weekend from Hell
Not that all my weekends are spectacular, but it just seems that this school year they are getting worse. For instance, not only do I agree to work at the football game on Friday, but again I am placed at the visitors stands to sell tickets. This game was soooooooooooooooooooo pitiful, that I opted to refund whatever fans did show up. By the end of first quarter we were winning 34-0. Our coach realizes that killing them completely (their first season w/ a football team in..um..10 years or so), would be insulting this new team so he lets his seniors get their yards then puts in the JV. We're at 41-0 now. He, again, realizes that a huge loss for them would only make their soccer team larger next year, he puts the freshmen in. I'm waiting for the cheerleaders and side-line waterboys to get in on the action. By the end of the game (41-0), the visiting team left the field smiling. That's what I call guts. I even found myself cheering for them when they "almost" got a touchdown. It was a sad game, and I was annoyed. No one came to see them. Ugh.
Saturday was ok. I did nothing all day, then drove my lil one to my mom's where my husband was replacing their siding (stupid stupid stupid). I get there and MOM is in an evil-you-shall-die mood. Dad is bitching because mom has a vendetta. I, in my infinite stupidity, somehow got stuck in the middle of this mele of death. I leave their house, relieved to not be living their, and feeling bad for leaving my lil one w/ my husband. The two of them didn't deserve that treatment either (but apparently, they are good at ignoring people). So, I go across the hi-way and up the hill to the h.s. There, I met up with a friend from h.s. who was meeting me so we could watch a marchingband competition. A friend of our's from h.s. who graduated a year before us is there with his marching band. Tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnyyyy. Our h.s. marching band was huge, and the more I thought about it the more I laughed - aloud. We watched them play (they're pretty good) and suddenly a sort-of-familiar face walks towards us. Its our OLD band director from h.s. He isn't much older than we are. With him is his new YOUNG wife. Young, like, REALLY YOUNG. Like at least 10 yrs younger than us and barely legal. A former student, apparently. So, that was weird. But, what made it worse is that this YOUNG wife of his works w/ one of my BEST friends. Gets weirder. He and his child bride live only 10 minutes from me. Even weirder. He doesn't look like he used to. ((Big Face))
I don't even know who won. I was wrestling with my friend's lil one (those WERE the days) who was insistent on "walking" on his own, but always ended up under the bleachers. I'm glad mine are fully functional. Whatever weird fantasy I had of having another child just flew OUT the window. Smelly puke faced stinky diaper children who cry/scream/drool. OH GOD, what was I thinking. Tho, my kids were good at that age. I didn't play games. I used a leash. Yes, I know... leashes are for pets. Have you ever had a hyperactive non-responsive 2 yr old? If you did, you'd understand. Besides that, my older one was a runner. I put him in the stroller with food, drink, toys, and tied him in for the long haul. I'm fortunate to have had good kids. They don't yell at me, threaten me, steal (that I've discovered yet...except for that incident years ago with my older one at the County Fair. But a lil dose of "scared shitless" took care of that one.), or hit. They never hit. My lil one hit his brother ONCE. Only ONCE. That's it. They yell, but that's to be expected. I've mastered the "use your voice," method and have recently added the clause, "unless some bully gets in your face, then hit him really hard and run fast."
Today, the hellbender of all days, I had to work at my seasonal job (under diress, btw). I was assigned the menial task of taking tickets from people (Harvest Festival of some sorts occurred intentionally today), encouring the kids to partake in the "Trade" game. I knew it'd be lame, I could sense it walking in today. I wasted the best part of a Sunday standing there, fending off bees (I left my EPI shot at home...stupid stupid stupid), stupid people, angry people, and little kids who have to TOUCH EVERYTHING.
No offense to those who are easy-going w/ your kids, but GODDAMMIT, teach them to BEHAVE, will ya? My kids behave because I'm overbearing. But I also love them to pieces. Big difference. I HATE HATE HATE listening to this: "I never hit my kids because I love them."
If you loved them so much, you'd discipline the little bastards occassionally. Trust me, a little spoon action wouldn't hurt when necessary. I never *beat* my boys, but bet your bleeding hearts I sure patted them when they repeat-offended. They haven't been spanked in eons. Its my "fear" mechanism. It must work b/c I never use it. I've used soap, timeouts, spanking, and grounding. They're futile if you don't back them up. Tah dah. I'm a backeruper. I rock.
So, now I have to grade: 30 + essays, a gazillion flags from 2 weeks ago, and write lessons for this week. Why am I writing this if I have work to do? Because I'm a procrastinator. I'd even be the leader of procrastinators, but I'm ... lazy.
Guess I should go. Tah tah for now.