The Lumberjack's Wife

We went to the river this weekend-for our last weekend of summer.

David and the boys set up a gigantic Slip-N-Slide.

And I never saw anyone make it completely down the slide and into the river-

but they all had fun.

We went floating.  Alex and Lauralee came for a visit, and they brought Callie.

Remember Callie?

I sure do.

Anyways.  The weekend was fun and filled with food and fishing and swimming and we rounded off the weekend at The Big Fireworks Show.  And I strongly feel like everyone should attend The Big Fireworks Show.

We have been going for maybe 11-12 years now.  It is the same plan every time.

You go early and lay down a tarp.  You hold the tarp down with canned food for a canned food drive.  It is the honor system and no one messes with anyone else’s tarp.

Sometimes people bring an old loveset to put on their tarps.

You arrive and you sit in a chair on your tarp.  You listen to an announcer lady thank all the people who donated for the fireworks.  It has been the same announcer for all the time and we call her Marge, although I am 100% sure that is not her actual name.

David always falls asleep at this time.

Announcer Marge had a special announcment that involved an actual marriage proposal.

And she had everyone in the crowd join together and chant:

“Put That Ring On It.”

(not put a ring on it.  put THAT ring on it.)

I believe the girl said “yes.”  And the guy “put that ring on it.”

We stand for the pledge and The Big Fireworks Show begins.

The Big Fireworks Show is always a comination of two shows:

Light Show

Fireworks Show

I did not record the whole thing for you, beause that would be coco-nuts.  But I did record some tidbits so you could get the gist.

Light Show

Fireworks

Light Show

Fireworks

And it follows that pattern long into the night.

At the end, the announcer gal shouted:

“Don’t we live in the best country in the nation!”

And that is why we have been to that show for the past 11-12 years, and will continue on being in attendance for all eternity.

Happy Weekend!

Today is Friday.

Today I came into school early in the morning to try and finish getting ready for my new second grade classroom.  My knee was very sore and I was limping.  My principal and vice principal asked me to meet with them first thing.  They saw I was struggling with knee pain and got me some ice packs and set me all up with ice for the meeting.

During the meeting, I went from teaching second grade to first grade.  Which is fine, because I double love first grade, but it was exhausting because I had already labeled my whole classroom for my new second grade students.  I wasn’t forced to do this, rather I was willing to do so because another teacher was having a hard time emotionally with letting go of a few second grade students and it was really quite ok with me if she wanted to teach second instead.

When our meeting was over, I stood up and the skin behind and on top of my knee was hard and white and looked like it had frost bite or something!  In my stress, I forgot to make sure I had something between my skin and the ice packs and I think I freezer burned my skin.

And it plain old hurts.

So I went to my classroom and tried to get organized.  I have hardly any faces to any names and this was my third class list, third schedule, and third draft of my welcome letter to parents to sort through and I was all sorts of confused.  Plus I think the skin all around my knee was dying a slow and painful death.

So, I cried.

I had tried hard to stay strong, but I cried.  And these are the reasons I cried:

1.  My knee hurt.
2. The skin around my knee hurt.
3. I loved my new kinderteacher partners and now I had to say goodbye.
4. The sweet gal they transferred from a new building?  She had started the week teaching kindergarten, was switched to second, had met all her second grade students, and then was forced to out school.  She wanted kinder rather than second, which is how I was removed.  And she is lovely and nice and stressed.
5. I had reached out to my families from last year and told them last night that I would have their kids after all.  Then I had to retract.
6. The skin around my knee really hurts.
7. I am tired.

After I cried and texted with a few friends, I had a cup of coffee and got to work.  And a teacher partner from last year stopped by to help me relabel a few things and brought me a personalized cup, of which you can see in the following picture:

It reads:

“When something goes wrong in your life, just yell PLOT TWIST and move on.”

I had to go to the doctor for a knee check up and was ordered more physical therapy and burn cream because I did something way wrong to my skin. I wanted to go home, but really didn’t want to come back in tomorrow.

So, I went back to school.  I slathered on the burn cream.  I had a snack.

The snack gave me new life and I remembered how much I double love first grade and teaching first grade is like second nature to me now.  I lovingly labeled and made copies and wrote plans (only for Tuesday.  I am not exemplary) and knocked it all out of the park.

Then Hadley got off of work and came to help me.  And life is better when you have someone working right beside you.  And I gave her some money and she went to a restaurant to get some take out for the two of us, since David and the boys had already left for the river.

Before I left, I took a few pictures of my completed room.  The room that has been all the following classes in the last 36 hours:
Kinder/1st

Kindergarten

Second

First

And I am now ready for students.

If you enlarge the picture, you might be able to see the two new wall decals I put in the room.

The first says:
“Work hard, be kind, know that you are loved.”

The second says:

“Treat others the way you want to be treated.”

So obviously, I have uncovered the secret to having a loving and kind classroom.  And I just know those two decals will solve all the problems in the world.

Also, I got this on clearance:

It is a framed picture that says:

“No Drama Llama”

And I plan to pull it out anytime there is drama, so I can remind them that we are the:

“No Drama Llamas.”

And that is just perfection.

Anyways.  The room is finished.

I am ready for kids.  I love first grade.

I hope I can read Charlotte’s Web again.  Because it is the literal best.

And I know I have the best job in the world.

And, also, I work with the best people in the world.

Everyone is great, and everyone wants to do what’s best for the kids.

So.

Three cheers for Hadley.

Three cheers for Teachers.

Happy Weekend!

It is 11:51 pm on Thursday night, my knee is hot and swollen, and here are tonight’s top stories.

For the past week or so, our school has been busting with kinder-2nd grade enrollments for this upcoming school year.  I was told in June I was teaching 2nd.  Soon after, I was asked if I would be willing to teach kindergarten, should we need another kinder.

About two weeks ago, I went into the building and started prepping my room for second graders and by the end of the day, I was told I would be teaching a kinder-1st multi age combo.  Which sounded easy-peasy-lemon-squeezey and not at all like an impossible challenge.

Leading up to open house, and watching our enrollment numbers, eveyone was sure the district would decide we needed another teacher hired, and that would even out our K-2 numbers a bit and give us some wiggle room, because, Reader, we were all busting at the seams.  Our poor principal was on the phone often with the district advocating and trying, but things were set to stay the same.  At 2:00 on Wednesday, we were all given our class lists and had two hours to get ready to welcome our new students and families into our classrooms for “Back to School” night.

Since this is not my first rodeo, I wore junky shorts and a t-shirt to school and brought fancy, “I am a professional and know how to teach your child to read” clothes to change into.  My “I know how to teach reading” outfit insisted I needed black sandals instead of my every day casual sandals, but alas, the puppy brothers ate my awesome black sandals.  So I texted Hadley from school and she went to the mall for me to find “I know how to teach reading” black sandals, and she found some and she bought them and she brought them and she even brought me my favorite comfort coffee drink:  Big Train Vanilla Chai with Nonfat Milk Hot.  So, three cheers for Hadley.

I took my class list and alphabetized and attempted to get as organized and welcoming as I could, and at 4pm, the doors were open and the whole building erupted with the joyous sounds of teachers and students being reunited after a long summer.  I am not sure if you are aware of this, but we teachers have the best job in the whole wide world.

I welcomed new families, helped the kids put their supplies away, passed out information, and pleaded with parents to sign up for the Remind messaging app.  Parents were confused and not sure what a kindergarten/first grade combo class was and asked me what exactly this all meant.

I decided to NOT share the new joke I had come up with, which was:

“I like my classrooms like I like my pizza:  Combination style.”

And did my best to instill confidence in the hopeful parents that I, the gal in the “I know how to teach reading” outfit knew what she was doing and would make sure my kinders were taught kindergarten skills and my firsties were taught first grader skills.

Several former students from over the years came into my room to give me hugs, as they had missed me since I was at eSchool last year, and my heart was full and I tried not to tear up and keep looking like I knew how to teach kindergarten and first grade reading at the very same time.

I left school and went home.  The boys felt fussy that I had no dinner ready for them, and I felt fussy that I am the only person in this house who can ever see dust.  So,we had leftovers and called it a night.

Thursday.  Today.

Today, I went to school and tried to sort out some things from Open House the night before and had a few training to attend at the school.  I was all finished with meetings by about 11:30am, checked with the office to make sure I was still teaching a kinder-first combo, and went to start entering all my new families emails in into my email contact list.

And then I was told to wait on labeling anything because we had a new kindergartener register and I might need to switch to a straight kindergarten class.

And then myself, the other two Kinder-Teacher-Babes, and the admin sat down and redid the kindergarten lists to spread out kinders amongst three classes.

Around 1pm, our kind counselor went and got pizza for us stressed out Kinder Teachers and we ate our stress.  And it was delicious.

Meanwhile, there was stress going on in the upper grade hallway because an intermediate teacher had accepted a job in a different district right before open house the night before.  So that classroom was bare, sad, and teacherless, so all of us teachers had a “Let’s Try And Make this Room Happy” party and pulled out extra bulletin board borders and decorations and got that room all happy for the sub who will start the year in that room.  And I want to know how I can get everyone to come and set up my room in  a half hour next summer and forget all this working on my room for hours business.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to us, the district is crunching numbers and decided to eliminate a classroom at a different school and have that poor teacher move to our school the weekend before school was to begin.  Which sounds relaxing.  We were told that teacher has only taught kindergarten and will only teach kindergarten, and, long story short, at about 4pm, I was told I was teaching 2nd grade.

I am truly fine to teach whatever kinder-2nd, but I was so hopeful that I would not have to tear down my classroom and relocate, since I was in a first floor room, which is where we like the kinderbabies.  I was told I could stay.  I was given a new class list of kids who I most certainly did not meet the night before, (and who had themselves met a different teacher the night before), and started to switch gears to change my room up to a second grade looking room.

Mother and her sister, Candi, came and brought me fountain Diet Soda and helped me with some labeling and sorting.  And that is just plain nice.

I got home at 7.  David had pizza and wine ready.  HD was proud of himself for doing all  the laundry in the house, even though he left all the clean laundry on my bed to be folded, because, “Mom, doing laundry is so easy.  I don’t know why you complain.  But I didn’t fold because I hate that part.”  And David folded the laundry while I told him about my day, iced my knee, and filled my tummy with comfort pizza for the second time that day.  I was asleep by 8:30, but woke up around 11:30 with pretty bad knee pain and here I am blogging and wishing my fairy godmother would bring me some ice.  But so far, she is not.

I really have nothing else to say.  I am not upset, but I feel very unprepared for the year and am hoping nothing else will change at this point.  And I think now I will end this post and go get some ice.

Later, Dudes.

I saw something on Facebook that read something like:

Tell me what your grandmother smelled like.

My Grandma Connie smelled like mentholatum.

I was born in California and did not move away until I was almost 4.  We lived close to my Grandma and she and I were pretty close.  When we moved away, I eventually became penpals with her.  My brother and sister always felt I was the favorite of Grandma Connie (and can you blame her?) and always thought my letter writing/fan mail to Gma was a bit over the top.  A bit brown-nosey-ish, if you will.

One year, she asked what I wanted for Christmas.  I said:

“A framed picture of you,” which gave my siblings more evidence for my “brown-nosing.”

Whenever I missed her, I would go to our medicine cabinet, open it up, and smell the mentholatum.  Still absolutely love mentholatum to this day.

Check out this retro pic of Grandma Connie with one of her gal pals-

She is on the right.  What a fun picture.

We went to the river this weekend, and it was beautiful.

The three dogs really love it when anyone throws a ball for them.  And they all must fight over one ball, they will hear none of this “ball for everyone” business.

Norman the dog is now very interested in jumping as high as he can, yet he always jumps too soon and cannot ever win the coveted ball.  If you look closely, HD hasn’t even thrown the ball yet.  My nephew is with him.

Before we came to camp, it was pig butchering day.  Have I ever told you how much I hate butchering days?

Nephew had asked David to bring him the foot of one pig, and David obliged.

Nephew tried to give it back to us.

Us:  No way!  You asked for it!

Nephew:  I didn’t know it would be this disgusting!

We need a better plan for all butchering days.  The problem is completely centered around three major issues:

1.  Dogs
2. Blood
3. Guts

Remember Norman from the last butchering day?

So yesterday, we kept the dogs in for as long as we could and HD tried his best to get all the mess cleaned up.  But the dogs still found some “leftovers” and then Charlie came in the house and threw up pig blood and guts.

And it looked exactly what you might think vomited pig blood and guts might look like.

Hadley cleaned it up, but didn’t put forth all of her heart into the task and when someone walked by, they knocked the empty box over that housed the blood/gut vomit and it spilled again on the carpet and I had to clean it again.

And so I asked David for a cup of coffee this morning and he was like, “I don’t know.”

And I was like, “Yes, you should, because I cleaned up vomit with guts and blood.”

And so he got me coffee.

Tomorrow is our official “Back to Work” day, but the students won’t come for another week.

I believe I am teaching a K/1 combination classroom.

Yes.  I do believe so.

Yes.  My heart has been broken into a million pieces over the loss of Hazel.  I decided I would cry a river all night Tuesday, and then try to move along with my life on Wednesday.

Let’s talk about Wednesday.

On Wednesday, I was driving to school, with a crying headache from the night before, of course, because it was kindergarten pre-screener day.

On my way into town, I remembered how Hazel would get her head stuck in the cattle panel and not know how to remove it.

Remember?

She did it again a few days ago, and Hadley went and helped her out.  I remember thinking to myself, “Oh, I better keep tabs on her so she doesn’t get stuck and has no one to help her.”  So, naturally, on the drive into work, I started to panic and think that maybe that was what had happened to her.  She was laying right near a fence when I found her, although the area was not visible from the house.  I started to cry, of course, because I know within the past few days, I called for her from the deck, heard her moo back at me, did not see her, but got distracted and went on to other things.  So I was worried that she was stuck in the cattle panel and heard me and then I didn’t help her.

I know.  Bleeding hearts of the world.

I got to work and then looked again at my phone to see the picture I took of her when I found her, dead.  The fence she was near was just barbed wire with no cattle panels.  So it made me feel a bit better, although I don’t know why.  I think I am definitely heartbroken and also hopeful that it wasn’t my fault.

You know what else made me feel better?  Two things:  Kindergarteners and Lunch with Erika.

Kindergarteners:

Oh, mylanta, they are hilarious.

Boy:  Hey!  This is my first time here!

Girl:  So aren’t you supposed to do something fun with me now?

Boy:  I had a birthday a few years ago.  I turned five.

Boy:  I don’t know how to learn.

Me:  Ok, fellow teachers, I will take all the kinders because I love them all so much.

Lunch with Erika:

You know what is supes fun?  Packing a boring lunch, deciding not to eat it, and going out for a delish lunch with a pal instead.  I give it two thumbs up.

I had the most delicious salad and Erika let me talk a bit more about Hazel and even looked at the sad, dead Hazel picture, and that was just nice.  And the restaurant dude let me sub cucumbers for croutons and it was a great choice on my part and very kind on his part.

It was like two surprises in one:  a delish lunch and pleasant company.  And trust me, that picture of Hazel was no picnic.  And we should honor Erika for that.

Erika.  We honor you.

Also:  I got a fountain Diet Pepsi, and fountain Diet Sodas are just what this world needs.

Thursday.  Today.

Today I should get a medal for not flipping out on my boys, although, I must admit, I was close.

Please remember they deserve all the recognition for taking care of me when I found Hazel-for collecting her and burying her and planning for me to plant memorial plants in her honor.

But today.  Today, they were something else.  Especially LD.

LD stands for Little Dude, yet the only person he is taller than at this time is David.  And I feel like he will pass David up within a year.

Before we left for town, of which the boys ABSOLUTELY knew was the plan, we had somebody stopping by the house to buy pigs.

Because David was The Magical Turn Buyer and now we are flipping pigs.  For what we hope to be a profit.

LD, who is 13, and lived on a farm since he was 23 months old, CHOSE to wear white socks and slides (sandals) to help pig purchaser man purchase pigs.

In order to go help the aforementioned pig purchaser, LD would have walked by the boot box that contains a plethora of community mud boots that we encourage all family members to don when working with animals.

Anyways.  I was driving to school with the boys, because, I have to set up that dang classroom, and I smell pig poop.  And then I look at LD.  I look at his shorts and his legs and his white socks and everything is splattered with poo/mud and I feel like I have every right to kill him.

I didn’t.  Rest assured.  But you try driving 40 miles into town smelling pig poop and knowing that your child walked right by mud boots and chose this fate for himself.

Go ahead.  Try it.

Also.  We have a fly problem.  I blame David and his incessant need to purchase livestock. And sometimes flies get in our cars and when we are driving we roll down the windows in hopes that the flies will vacate, but they don’t, and then David said to me, very casually, one day:

“The flies will not fly into wind.  That will only work if you are stopped.”

And it has completely blown my mind.  How did he know that?

Did you know that?  Is he messing with me?

Anyways, I get to my classroom and HD was helping me and LD was in charge of giving himself a sponge bath in my classroom, and can you see me rolling my eyes from where you are?

Then Hadley surprises me with a quick drop by to see if I needed any help and she helped me to do many things and I did have to threaten the boys that I would kill them if they rolled down the hallways again with my rolling chair, but I did get some decoations hung, which was swell.

And three cheers for Hadley!  She is nice.

And then one boy said this:

Boy:  I have armpit hair now.  Like a man.

Other Boy:  Nuh-uh.

Boy:  Bet.

Other Boy:  Bet.

Boy:  Bet.

Other Boy:  Bet.

And then Boy decided to close my classroom door so he could prove the armit hair, yet I was trying to get some copies from the copy machine, so I opened the door.

Boy:  Mom!  Do you want to see my armpit hair?

Me:  I most certainly do not.

Boy:  Well, close the door so your teacher friends won’t see!

Then we went to get haircuts, the boys and I, and LD tried to talk me into letting him get a mullet, and can you see me rolling my eyes from where you are?

Because I am.

I am fit to be tied.   I am missing so many things from when I packed up for eSchool.  The most annoying thing:  my lunch count tray.

Reader.  I had the perfect lunch count system.  I had a try with three compartments labeled:  Main Dish, Choice, and Cold lunch.

Reader.  I cannot find that tray.

I bought the tray about 7 years ago at the dollar store.

For $1.

I went back to the dollar store and they have no such tray.

So I have no lunch count plan, and more annoyed, I could not be.

Anyways, I am now for surely (probably) teaching a kinder/1st combo.

(Most likely)

I went to physical therapy this afternoon and the poor dudes, who annoyed me all day with the rolling chair, had to wait in the waiting room for me.

PT:  Let’s see.  Last time we did 5 minutes on the bike.  Do you have time for 10?

Me:  Certainly.

PT:  Do you have time for the treadmill, too?

Me:  Absolutely.

PT:  Do you have time for the Russian Stem?

(Don’t ask.  I literally have no idea.  But I do it and I don’t like it)

Me:  Sure thing!

PT:  Can you do a full ten minutes or do you want to do five?

Me:  Let’s do 10.

And those boys had to wait a solid hour for me.  And that was good.

Oh, yes.  It was good.

Also.  I told them they are in charge of their own dinner.

I am such a Karen.

My heart is so sad, Reader.

I decided to take my first post-surgery walk to check on cows.  I was calling for Hazel and waiting for her to moo back at me, like she always does.  As I walked further along, I saw a dead calf on the ground.  I didn’t want to go and look to see, but, I did, and it was Hazel.

I cried all the way walking back home.  My boys, who can be so obnoxious, immediately saw me crying, asked what happened, and sprung into action.  They insisted on burying her so I could plant flowers around her.  That was very sweet of them to take the time to dig a hole for her, and it really meant a lot to me.  They even went back and put rocks on top in hopes that no coyotes would dig her up later.

Kate sent well-wishes and ordered a little grave marker for her that I can put by her graveside later on.

I have no idea what happened to her.  I sent some pictures to a vet-tech friend, and really, we don’t have any way of knowing.

I will be ok.  She was just a calf.  But I sure did love her.

On Sunday, I overheard a conversation between David and the boys and I became quite concerned.

I was concerned because I heard them discussing a future purchase of 100 full size pigs.

Me:  Hold up.  What is the deal with this 100 pigs business?

David: (sigh) Ok.  Do you know what a “turn buyer” is?

And he was looking at me like I definitely should know what a “turn buyer” was, but I definitely did not.  But good news, Friends!

David won the right to be THE Turn Buyer!

Lucky him.  And here is what I *think* it is.  4H children enter pigs into the fair.  People from the community purchase the pigs from the children.  The purchasers can either chose to keep the pig for themselves to purchase or they can sell it to the Turn Buyer.

And that was David!  My actual husband!  He put in a bid and he won the bid, but he had to take all the pigs, which could have been up to 100.  And the Lord bestowed his favor upon me, because David was only needed to buy 30 pigs, rather than 100.

The turnly bought pigs had to be picked up Tuesday at 7am, and, unfortunately, David was already committed to being an electrician on Tuesday at 7am.  Hadley was supposed to volunteer at the fair for parking lot clean up at the same exact time, so Hadley, the boys, and I, hauled the stock trailer to the fair so we could pick up David’s lucky purchase.

We arrive at the fair and as soon as I get the truck and trailer near the loading area, I must turn the keys over to HD.

Pig People:  Does he know how to do this?

Me:  He sure does, and you definitely don’t want me doing it.

As soon as he started to maneuver, he wowed all pig peoples and I was pretty sure he was about to get offered a job on the spot.

Pig People were discussing how to load the pigs into our trailer and there were problems because the back of the trailer was too low for the pig ramp, so Pig People were starting to build a makeshift ramp and HD was all,

“Or we could just load them in this side door, which is higher off the ground”

And the Pig People were wowed yet again, but in order to get the side door correctly aligned with the ramp, HD was going to have to do some fancy rig work, but that was no problem for my 14 year old.

Meanwhile, LD, my 13 year old, had found some spare lumber and a drill and was building something?  Because . . . ?

We finally get everything all situated and then we get the pigs loaded.

At this point, we have been at the fair for two hours and Hadley is now finished with her parking lot clean up duties.  She reports that people are disgusting and she picked up a lot of trash, pacifiers, socks, a rogue pair of underwear, and $2.12.

Because I am the mom and the most responsible, I must now take over the truck/trailer driving, much to HD’s chagrin.  So he had to add his critical commentary on how poorly of a job I am doing, and I was like:

“But did anyone die?”

And I got us home safely.  And even all the pigs lived.

As soon as we got into the driveway, I turned the keys back over to HD so he and LD could back the trailer up into our unloading area.

I captured this little video while walking back from getting the mail.  Just so you could hear the pig screams.

You are quite welcome.

And just look.  Look at what I, yes, I, Taylor Maliblahblah, hauled home, not killing anyone?

That would be 7,638 pounds of hog in one trailer.

Next, we had to sort the hogs into three different pens, based on their tag numbers and some sort of perfect pig scenario that David and HD had come up with together over the phone.

And then they were all disgusting and flopped around in the mud.

So there you have it.  And now my part is done.

And if this doesn’t prompt David to finally buy me that #1 Wife T-Shirt, I don’t know what will.

***

After SEVERAL hours and sorting and organizing, I am happy to report that my classroom looks like this:

Bleh.

I work on it until I hit a wall.  Once the wall is hit, I can do no more-not even close cabinets or pick stuff up off the ground.  And Hadley strongly feels I should get a new calendar and ditch the apple calendar that I have had for 8 years.

I kind of agree, but the thought of buying one and laminating one and then putting velcro on the numbers is very off-putting.

I don’t know.  I just don’t want to.  I am teaching some sort of a combination or solid class of anything between K-2.  I told my principal to put me wherever, except I would cry all day if she made me teach 4th or 5th.  Because I like to show my employer that I am flexible, but I do have my limits.

May your day be full of luck, just like David’s was, the moment he won the Turn Buyer Bid.

Happy Tuesday.

There have been times in my life where I was acting all philanthropical and decided to donate blood.  I don’t mean to brag, but I am blood type O negative, so I am pretty much always in-demand.  Unfortunately, they will not leave me alone.  Audrey, from Vitalant, who may or may not be a real person, calls me daily.  My phone doesn’t even allow the call to come through to me and just sends her straight to voicemail.  Because even my phone is over her. And how annoying is voicemail?  So I have to call my voicemail and waste 90 seconds of my life to get to the point where I hear my robot friend, Audrey, chipperly announce:

“Hi!  This is Audrey, from Vitalant!”

And then I delete the message.

Kate:  Mom.  Why do you check your voicemail like that?

Me:  How else am I supposed to check it?

Then Kate shows me on her phone how the voicemails come through in text form and she can just delete them without having to go through the whole song and dance of calling the voicemail and entering codes and all sorts of nonsense.

Kate:  See?  It is easier.

Me:  My phone doesn’t do that!

Kate:  Oh.  Probably because you have that iPhone SE and not the cool iPhone.  Both me and Hadley’s phones do the text voicemail.

Me:  Did you upgrade to this?  Am I paying for this?

Kate:  I don’t know.

So then I had to waste an afternoon trying to dicipher my phone bill to see if I am paying extra for this voicemail.  And I don’t think I am, but I am still annoyed about it.

Audrey and her Vitalant chums have now also started texting me.  In addition to the voicemails.  At the end of each text, it says:  TextOptOut to stop receiving messages.  And everytime I TextOptOut and then soon after they text me again.

The liars.

LD was using my phone when they texted me again.

LD:  Mom.

Me:  What?

LD:  You have so many messages from this place.  And then you have TextOptOut, but then they still text you.

Me:  I know.  It is the worst.

LD:  Mom.  I just texted:  OptOut and they sent me back a reply that said, “You are now unsubscribed.”

Me:  *mind blown*

LD:  You weren’t supposed to include the word “text.”

Me:  Ohhhhhhhhhhhh.

LD:  That was kind of a boomer thing to do, Mom.

Me:  I agree.

Let’s talk about my Emerald Vacuum.  Do you remember the Emerald Vacuum, reader?

This is what has become of my Emerald Vacuum:

Tragic.

Let’s discuss.

Tragedy the first:

One of the puppies at one point in time ate the cord off.  Because even though we love them dearly, they are all very ill-behaved.  David, who is an electrician by trade, was able to put a new plug cord on even though I have absolutely no idea how that would even be possible.  So that big round thing is the new plug he put on after one of the dogs ate the cord.

Tragedy the second:

This one’s a twofer, because not only is the vacuum destroyed, but it is a complete mystery to every single person living in this house as to how it happened.

The boys think it may have happened while they were cleaning their room?  But no one was even touching the vacuum?  It just broke?

Me:  Can we fix it?

David, laughing at me like I am a fool who texts TextOptOut instead of OptOut:  No!  That thing is a goner.

Me:  Duct tape?

(Is it duck tape or duct tape? I am unclear)

David:  Nope.

Me:  Well, you fixed the cord!  And that seemed impossible!  How did that happen?

David:  It is almost like the boys were taking the vacuum and swinging it like a bat and hitting each other.

So, I ponder things.  And would it be within the bounds of reason to think my boys would do something like that?

Yes.  Yes, it is definitely a possibility.

But is it possible they did this without tattling?

No.  I definitely would have heard about someone getting hit with a vacuum like it was a baseball bat.  I don’t know.  I never know what is going on over here.

And, so.  We are laying the Emerald Vacuum to rest.  She served us well for 17 months.

***

I made my first attempt at David’s grandmother’s famous huckleberry pie for his birthday:

It was almost too pretty to eat.  I could look at it all day.

***

Son:  Mom!  I woke up in the middle of the night and my skin was so itchy!  What do I do?

Me:  Hmmm?  Try putting lotion on?

*Half hour later*

Son:  Mom!  I am about to get in the shower.

Me:  Sounds good.

Son:  How do I do that skin thing?

Me:  The lotion?

Son:  Yeah?

Me:  You put it on?

Son:  How?

Me:  You rub it on your skin?

Son:  How?

Me:  *face palm*

Son:  I don’t understand.

***

Yesterday, Hadley , the dudes, and I, started to try and unpack/set up my classroom.  And a more exhausting effort, setting up a classroom cannot be.

Hadley and HD were trying to set up my classroom library.  This is a challenge because I have a partial system in place, and then at some point I stopped caring and so there is no clear direction on about half of the books.

For example, I have a bin labeled “Mo Willems #9” and I have about 7,245 copies of different Mo Willems books because, dude, the kids love those and can read them pretty early on.  So the Mo Willems bin is easy.

But then I have bins that say like Animals #1 and Dogs and Cats #12 and Fiction #15, and #16 (because apparently I was tired of categorizing and just started to lump things into fiction.  And then I stopped putting numbers on books because I got frazzled, so basically, my classroom library is a train wreck.

Me:  Just do your best.  Sort the books the best you can if there isn’t a number on it.  I won’t be mad.

Hadley is able to handle this task with ease, but this task is blowing HD’s mind.

HD:  Mom!  Mom!  Mom!

Me:  What?

HD: I don’t know where to put this book!

Me:  You can start a pile for books you don’t know what to do with and I will deal with them later.

HD:  Mom!  It says “Scholastic” on it!  You don’t have a bin labeled “Scholastic!”  Mom!

Me:  I don’t have books based on publisher.

HD:  Huh?  Mom!  Mom!

And I truly appreciate their help, but like, dude, I don’t even know what to do with all these books.  It is all so overwhelming.  And then my knee starts to fuss and I get hot because the AC doesn’t work right in our building and everything is just blech.

HD and Hadley had to leave for awhile, so it was just LD and I.  I asked LD to help me put a shelf in a cabinet, and for reasons I will never understand, he went and found the custodian and  borrowed a screw driver, took the hinges off, put the shelf in, and put the hinges back on.  Took like an hour.  I am 97% sure he did not need to take the hinges off.  But he was quiet, so that was nice. Then he went and bought a pop from the vending machine and stretched his 5′ 10″ body in the middle of the floor while I tried to shove stupid classroom books into books bins without any rhyme or reason.

Me:  Can you fill my water bottle up in the staff room?

LD:  No way!  I am not going in there so all your teacher friends can say, “Oh!  Look at how tall you are!  How tall are you now?”  It is embarassing.

So, I went to go and fill my water bottle myself, shared the humorous tidbit with my teacher gal pals, and teacher gal pals all walked into the classroom to tell LD he had gotten SO tall and just how tall was he?

It was enjoyable.

I started off the day organizing my room to teach second grade, as that is what it was looking like I was going to teach, enrollment-wise, and then I ended the day being told there was a chance I would be teaching a kindergarten/1st combo class.  So that is blowing my mind.  I am trying to have confidence in me, but it is not easy.

And I asked the custodian if there were more book shelves, and he was so nice and magically put two additional book shelves in my classroom.

And then I pushed my luck and asked if there were more bulletin boards, and he brought a tape measurer down and is, and I quote, “seeing what he can do.”  And that is just nice.  And why is the beginning of each school year so insane?  I ask?

Also, where are all my things?  I cannot find my student book boxes, my clip boards, my tray for lunch count-it is all very vexing.  So I woke up at 4am today so I could worry and wonder where all those things were.

Also.  How does one teach kindergarteners and first graders at the same time and in the same room?

Please Advise.