OK, I feel like Charlie Brown. This has been a real "I got a rock" Halloween.
I plan a hayride and the day of the hayride the tractor won't start.
My kids tell me my witch costume looks dumb and the green makeup I put on my face looks like frosting.
The sheet I bought to make a ghost with is still sitting on the couch with the 25 cent tag on it along with the mens suit I bought to stuff a dumby.
My popcorn balls are full of kernals and no one will eat them.
I tried to make my beer look like a bloody drink and the kids catch me putting red food coloring in my glass.
I drink way too much and fall asleep with my sparkly witch dress on and wake up in the middle of the night with a green pillowcase and and itchy body from the dress I should have taken off before I passed out.
The kids take apart the huge book I painted black and made into a spell book and realize it is an old almanac with maps in it.
The goats get into the jackolanterns and eat all the faces out of them.
I am going to bed now, I will try harder next year.
OK, so we go to church on Sundays now that we are living back home. The kids love it. We have a great church.
It's the only day I actually get to dress up. I havent worn pantyhose in a million years. One of my friends tells me to buy "thigh highs". She says they are the greatest thing. She says you don't need all that extra bulkiness that pantyhose has.
So I buy a pair.
I put my skirt on and put these weird things on. They have a thing on them that looks like a big rubber band that holds them onto your thigh.
They seem too tight to me. They make my legs look like a sausage stuffed into a casing.
I roll down the thigh high where I don't feel it will cut off the circulation in my legs and I go to church.
Everything is good.
We sing alot in our church.
On the last song I stand up and my thigh highs don't.
They fall down to my ankles.
I guess I rolled down the rubber band thing that clings to your leg.
I look around to see if anyone has noticed.
Karen is sitting next to me.
I keep singing trying not to start laughing.
I feel like Ruth Buzzy.
I look like Ruth Buzzy.
We sit down and I try to pull the darn things up.
It is not working.
Karen notices and tries to keep her composure.
I manage to get them up far enough so I can run to the bathroon when service is over and pull them up the rest of the way.
OK, last night after supper, I sat down for a minute and Sanford and Son was on.
For those of you too young to know what I am talking about, it's about a bunch of funny black people. They drink beer, talk about girlie movies, they talk about gay people, they talk about black people, they talk about white people, it is just funny as hell.
While watching it, I wondered what would happen if someone approached CBS with a series like this now.
Can you just imagine.
OK, you base the show around an old black guy who is having a heart attack every 5 minutes and he talks about his dead wife. He lives in a house filled with junk that he sells and his tiny lawn is covered with more junk he sells at his "Antique junk shop". If he lived in our town he would have some hefty fines for "debris".
Then you have old black men talking about gay people. They also talk about hot black women, going to girlie movies, girlie bars all while making fun of their black wives. I haven't heard the term "Battleax" in forever.
Then you have a Hispanic neighbor names Julio who they call "Oreo".
I can only imagine what would happen if you said that today.
In the old days we watched this stuff and laughed our buts off. We never took it beyond the 30 minutes that it was on Dad's little TV with the rabbit ears sticking out the top.
It was OK to poke fun at ourselves. No one died from it. No one got sued. It was just funny as hell.
I wonder what has happened to our world.
Gotta go find the TV Topics and find out when Archie Bunker is on tonight.
I swear by this thing. It's just a 3 ring binder with all the information I need on a daily basis. I have school crap in there, house crap in there, recipes, schedules.
Not that I use any of the schedules or ever read any of the newsletters I put in there from the school, but I am slowly getting better.
I try to look at it everyday.
I have birthdays in there on a calendar, dentist and Doctor appointments, when to pay bills, etc.
Not that I send the cards on time or pay the bills when they are due.
Basically I try to keep all my crap for the house in one spot, that helps. I have condensed about 100 areas of the house where I used to toss paperwork and put it in one binder.
Then I put the papers in plastic sleeves, that just looks neat. Makes it look like you are doing a book report for Mrs Wocjak. She sure would be proud of me.
Probably the best idea I stole somewhere was to make a page with everyone's Social Security numbers on it, birthdates and for those that are driving, license numbers. When I go to apply for anything like Health Insurance, I just whip this paper out and I look so organized Martha Stewart would want to do a whole show on me. If having this information on a sheet makes you nervous, just hide it somewhere. It's just nice to have it all in one place. I don't worry about anyone stealing my identity, I pity the poor soul who would go to the trouble to steal mine and realize he has wasted alot of time.
I keep the binder next to the microwave so I don't lose it.
I have stolen all these ideas from other people.
If you want to be organized, or at least look like you are organized, spy on organized people, watch videos on Youtube about organizing, read articles about organizing on the web and when you are done, put it all together and do what works best for you.
OK, I am not down on the school system, it is just really different than it used to be. I have 7 kids. Things have radically changed since I sent my first one off to school 100 years ago. (maybe more like 25 years), yeah, I'm that old.
Because I have a million kids and I have moved a million times, I have seen alot of school stuff.
OK, we used to be able to volunteer without being treated like criminals, you know background checks. I know they are doing that for a reason, but it's a little weird to old people like me.
We used to be able to bake crap like cakes and cookies, that is totally against the new rules. Everything must be "prewrapped". No peanuts due to "peanut allergies".
No costumes on Halloween in some schools. No reference to Santa, witches, leprachans, bunnies who bring candy or anything else that represents "fun".
I find it hard to believe that my generation is messed up because we believed in the Easter Bunny. Maybe those witch costumes I so proudly created along with the Leprechan suits I sewed are the reason I got divorced? I think I can blame Santa on my smoking and of course the tooth fairy is the reason I like to drink.
Thank you school system for figuring this all out for me. This has saved me thousands of dollars in counseling sessions.
I think that the fact I spent hours playing on the swingset is the underlying reason I have an anger control issue. Holy crap thanks again.
I won't even touch the whole Mary Poppins issue.
The fact that I can't spell anymore and have no idea where in the hell the quotation marks go is due to the fact that I ate way too many cream cheese and jelly sandwiches at lunchtime and over the period of years it has eaten away what little brain cells I started with.
Once again, I thank you.
OK, a million years ago when all the cavekids went to caveschool (back in the 70's and 80's), we had to behave on the bus or Big John would have you kicked off, it was that simple, he knew your parents and that was enought to scare anyone. If you didn't eat your sandwich out of your crumpled up brown paper bag, Mrs. Miller would tell your mom, once again, she lived down the street from us.
The principal went to Fish Fry on fridays with
Grace's parents and the Priest at Bible school called my mom by her first name (am i scaring the crap out of you yet?)
If someone was a bully to your friend, you kicked the crap out of them. Just ask my sister. I shoved the neighbor out of the bus window (totally on accident). How was I to know he was sitting in the seat with the "swinging window".He never bothered anyone on the bus after that.
How do they think kids are supposed to learn how to stick up for themselves?
Do they really think that eventually we didn't know that the Easter Bunny was pretend? I know of one kid who still believes, he's got a great job in Tennesee making a ton of money doing something no one else in the class has any idea about.
Let's get a grip.
Too many attorneys, too many wimpy parents.
When these kids go out in the world do you think that their jobs are not going to have situations where they may have to stick up for themselves?
Do you think that maybe at some point in their lives they may be short on money and may have to eat cream cheese and jelly sandwiches for a while?
The whole fat kid thing is another blog in itself. We ate the most crap of any generation. I was never fat. Our TV time was very limited, we played outside, we ran around and played dodgeball in gym, we rode these things called bikes. Not just in parks, but in driveways. Our bikes were our only modes of transportation until you got a car. We didn't get cars at 16. We worked at jobs and saved up money and bought cars. We bought crappy cars, then saved up more money and bought better less crappy cars.
Toss out those DS games and limit TV and computer time and make kids go outside. Better yet, go outside with them. Now there's a thought. I got a note home from school yesterday with a form for the kids to take "Zumba" or Rumba or something to that effect. It cost 50 bucks a kids. You have got to be kidding me.
Here was our workout schedule when I was growing up.
Summer: throw haybales all summer, swim, ride bikes, pick weeds in the garden, walk to the neighbors house. Mow the 5 acres of lawn with a push mower.
Fall: stack firewood, ride bikes, walk while trick or treating, stack more firewood. Pick more weeds, stack more wood.
Winter: bring in firewood, feed cows hay you stacked all summer, bring in more firewood, go sledding, bring in more firewood.
Oh yeah Spring: Rake stones off lawn, feed cows hay, get ready for Easter Bunny.
I have to go, the cream cheese is thawing out on the table and I have to make 3 witch costumes for Halloween. I have to go put some quarters under Izzy's pillow from the dreaded tooth fairy.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010Suck it Public School System
Seriously. I have heard the complaints about schools getting so PC it's ridiculous, but it wasn't until today that I really got it. What the freakin' heck (I'm not swearing mom) is going on around here? My daughter just started JK and today is her fourth birthday. Me being me, I dressed her in a tutu, tiara and her diamond encrusted number FOUR shirt...It's her birthday for crying out loud! I also made each classmate a gift bag filled with peanut-free Halloween candy. The Principal stopped me (her teacher was sick today) and told me food was prohibited and rudely asked "don't you read the newsletter?". I totally get the whole "don't bake anything" rule due to peanut allergies, but pre-packaged candy with the peanut-free label right on the side is a no-no now too?
K., so Izzy cried "my friends can't have their presents?" and looked at me with those big, blue, tear filled eyes...damn...I told her I'd be right back and took the little ones to the dollar store to buy and make 20 toy filled gift bags. I return two hours later with two tired two-year olds in tow and present the principal with 20 gift bags filled with play-doh, bubbles, stickers and a few other random toys... She then says to me, "since you obviously don't read the newsletter, I must inform you that costumes are not allowed at our school". She then gives my little Izzy a glance that could kill and I have to remind myself that slugging her stuck up principal is probably not a good "role model" thing to do. I politely tell the principal that a tutu is just a skirt and she rolls her eyes and says for Halloween she can only wear orange and black. Fine BEEOOCH... For Halloween Izzy is going to wear the biggest orange and black tutu I can make with a orange and black head band that looks like a witches hat...It's just a hair accessory, not a costume.
Taking away Halloween, Christmas and all the other cool holidays is just down right retarded. Come on people. Next are you going to get rid of hotdog days because Jewish people don't eat pork, let alone pork anus? I mean, what religion does Halloween offend? I completely agree with removing the prayers from the public school system, but this is too far. When is enough enough? Aren't there religions out there that believe women shouldn't work or show their faces? They should remove all female staff from the public school system immediately, starting with Izzy's bitchy-ass principal.
OK, every now and then you have to change things. I am taking off the skinny girl who sews and has no kids and lives at home off the blog. I like her but I really feel I have nothing in common with her at all.
Enter the organized Canadian girl.
click on her blog, she will keep you in stitches. She has a daycare, uses foul language and doesn't act phoney. I have looked up tons of organizing sites and videos and they are so boring it's not funny.
I even had a blog I used to follow about housekeeping. I tried to find her yesterday and she is gone. I found a bunch of blogs about her being too darn religious and phoney. Must be they scared her right off the web. Don't know, don't care.
I liked her, but I really wondered how in the hell cleaning the bathroom could possibly be a blessing from God?
OK, so you are driving down the road with your 4 kids in your minivan.
You are listening mindlessly to the radio.
Everyone is trying to talk to you at once and you can't hear any of them.
Then all the sudden "The Boss" comes on the radio.
Suddenly you are sucked somewhere into the 1980's.
You can't hear anything the kids are saying.
Your minivan turns into a red Chevy Monza.
You are wearing purple lipstick, a leather jacket, jeans that are so tight you can't breathe and so tight at the legs you could barely fit your plastic jelly shoes through them.
Your hair is long and pulled up on the top of your head in a ponytail thing.
You think you look like Cindi Lauper.
You think Bruce Springstein is singing to you.
The song ends.
You look around.
You are driving a blue minivan, your hair is super short, there are 4 kids sitting in the seats behind you, your stretch pants are flared out at the bottom so you can fit your super wide feet through the bottom because you are wearing rubber barn boots.
You take a minute, giggle to yourself and wonder what in the hell Bruce Springstein is doing right now.
OK, so I had to drop my van off the other day to get fixed and I had my sister in law pick me up.
"Let's run to town and get those pictures developed", she says on the way home.
"OK", I answer thinking it will only take a few minutes.
It's no secret I hate shopping.
We go into the Pharmacy where they are having a sale on film developing. There are 3 machines to use to pick out your photos, of course 2 of them are broken. There is an older couple using the other one.
No big deal, how long can they possibly take to choose pictures? 5 minutes? Maybe 10?
We get the ads from the front of the store, cut out the coupon we need for the discount and return to the photo section. The people are still there.
No big deal.
We shop around a bit. I find a planner I was looking for and grab it. I am ready to go.
I go back to the photo area, the people are still there.
OK, guys this is getting old.
We continue to shop, looking at overpriced nail polish, overpriced Halloween costumes and overpriced vitamins. They did have Depend undergarments on the marked down rack.
As we round one of the corners there is a big end cap shelf with a display of girdles on it.
"Annie, look at this, I found what we need".
I walk over and read the print on one of the girdles. It reads "The biggest loser girdle". I look at my sister in law with my usual blank stare.
"It's a show where people try to lose weight", she explains to me.
"Then why are they selling girdles"?
"Those are for the people who don't lose I guess".
We are both trying not to make a scene laughing out loud.
She puts the girdle back on the shelf. As she rounds the corner she grabs a giant candy bar. One of those HUGE bars. "Look Annie, they have the monster candy bars next to the girdles".
"That makes sense", I reply.
I am still trying to figure out why the show "The biggest loser" is selling girdles.
I am trying to compose myself, I don't want to be escorted out of the store, I need my pictures developed.
I wander back to the picture area. Those damn people are still there.
"I have absolutely had enough".
"Anne, be quiet, they will hear you".
"I certainly hope so".
They never even turned around.
I grabbed my planner, threw my camera disk back into my camera and went to the car.
My sister in law followed.
I lit up a cigarette.
"OK, I have figured it out", I start talking like my Dad.
"Those old people aren't real customers and those photo machines really aren't broken. Those old people are working for the drug store. You walk in, see there are people using the machine and go wander around the store for a while. You mindlessly buy overpriced crap you don't need."
"Why in the hell are the machines broken during a photo sale?"
My pictures are still not developed, I have not written anything in the planner I bought and I am thinking I should have bought the girdle.
OK, so I am at Springville Auction pawing in a box of crap and someone taps me on the shoulder. "Are you Annie?"
"Yes, Aunt Mary, it's me". I reply.
Aunt Mary is one of my girlfriends aunts I still call Aunt Mary.
I have not seen her in like 20 years. We start talking about the old days, crap we used to do when I was a kid, laughing so loud everyone at the auction thought we were drinking.
I would bring up a stupid incident then she would remember one. It was so fun I didn't want to leave.
I drove home remembering all the fun we used to have.
The really weird thing about the day was this:
On the way to the auction I took an extra minute to show my brother in law where my girlfriend used to live. It's a ways off the beaten path, not too far. The old house is gone now, the view is still as stunning as I remembered. I had not been there in 20 years.
What are the odds that I would run into someone from that part of my life the same day I am showing someone the property?