Rule Number Two

I have a rule that I live by in dealing with kids, whether my own or the ones I teach: I never smell anything that is thrust in front of my nose, accompanied by the words, "Mrs. H. (or Mom), smell this!" Now I have another rule to add to the "don't smell things" rule: Don't touch anything thrust in front of you, accompanied by the words, "Mrs. H., touch (push, press, etc.) this!"

Let's find out how I learned this lesson. We must go back to the little street fair held last weekend in a parking lot. This is the fair where I was working in our local union booth. People would stroll by, adults and kids. I was hoping to see some of my students. I saw one student walk by, who called out, "Hi, Mrs. H.!" He wasn't a student of mine from last year; he was in another 6th grade class, the rowdiest class, and I think he was a trouble-maker. The kind who just made bad choices. "Hi," I replied.

Later, he came by again. He was with another boy I didn't recognize. He held out this item that looked like an Ipod to me. "Hey, Mrs. H.!" he said. "Push this!" And he indicated that I should push the silver button on the Ipod.

"What's it going to do, shock me?" I laughingly asked. He hesitated, and said, "Just push it." Now, it did look like an Ipod. So I thought I was being foolish about it. I expected some loud music or something. But guess what? It shocked me...Sent a jolt into my thumb.

He laughed and laughed. "You're the first person who actually pushed it!" he exclaimed.

I stared at him. "Get. Away. From Me. Now." I said through gritted teeth. He quickly left, and I didn't see him the rest of the day.

The little shit (oh, did I just say that?).

Get Serious!

This weekend there is a summer festival going on in the town where I teach. Being our school's teacher union rep, I received an email from our union president, asking for people to volunteer on the district union booth at the fair. I volunteered to help man the booth from 11 am to 1 pm. I didn't mind; I figured my girls could come with me and wander around together, and I also thought I might see some of my students from last year.

Anyway, so yesterday morning I woke up in plenty of time to enjoy a few cups of coffee before getting ready to go to the fair. I also woke up my girls, telling them if they wanted to come with me, they had to get up, get dressed, eat breakfast. Then I left their room and finished getting ready. The girls slept on.

Soon it was about 20 minutes to 11:00 am. It would take about 10 minutes to get to the fair. I figured the kids didn't want to go with me, so that my husband would just run me over to the fair. But I was wrong. Both girls insisted they wanted to go, which meant that they had about 5 minutes to get dressed and eat something. They scurried like little mice to get ready. Luckily, we made it on time.

Last night, as I was saying my goodnights to the girls, Emily asked me if I had to be anywhere at 11 am the next day. No, I replied. Good, she said. Because she only had had 5 minutes that morning to get ready and to eat.

"But I woke you in plenty of time," I said. "You could have gotten up and dressed and eaten right then, but you just kept on sleeping."

"But that was just a playful wake-up," she replied. "I didn't think you were serious..."

The Long Haul

I'm finally reading another novel, and have gotten beyond page 50, so it looks like I'm in there for the long haul. The book is called The Reading Group. It reminds me of the other book I read called The Friday Night Knitting Club, in that the story revolves around the lives of a group of women who get together regularly, in one case, for the knitting club, and in the other, for the book club. This book, though, really focuses less on the actual books and meeting than it does on the individual lives of the members. It's not bad, perhaps a tad bit low-brow, but much better than a romance novel.

I didn't realize until I began reading it, though, that it is set in London, and is written by an English author. Therefore, there are some very definite English-terms that are sometimes perplexing. I guess I didn't notice the "The #1 British Bestseller" across the top of the novel when I bought it. Not that it would have stopped me from reading it. I just think it's funny that I didn't pay attention.

Done

Well, after 9 am I did call and talk to the pool manager. She apologized, which I didn't want her to do, as it wasn't her. We talked a while (I'm sure you can imagine...), and I told her the whole story. I said that I would give him the benefit of the doubt that for some reason he thought that by cheering, he was making light of the situation, and thereby possible deflecting her disappointment in herself. But, when the manager said to me that I could "help" the situation by relaying that thought to Emily, that what he did was meant to help and not insult, I said, in no uncertain terms, that I definitely would NOT do that. I told her I had no idea what his intentions were. I told her that HE could tell Emily what his intentions were. I said he could tell me what his intentions were. From my viewpoint, and Emily's, his intentions were to poke fun. I made that clear, I think. I made sure she knew that I expected her to talk to him about reacting to a child in such a manner that it could be seen as being disrespectful, even if that was not the intention...I figure it's a learning experience for this kid. But don't do it anymore.

Kids Teaching Kids

Oh, I got so mad at my girls' swimming instructor last night. I've been taking my kids to this particular pool for 4 summers now. There is a pool closer to me, but I prefer this one, as they keep the class sizes smaller and I feel the lessons are better. So I drive farther for lessons. This year I signed up for lessons all of July, Monday through Thursdays. It's a lot of swimming, a lot of driving, and it was a lot of money. But since we aren't really taking a vacation this summer, I knew it would work just fine. I looked forward to how much they'd improve with their swimming.

Anyway, they are in the same swimming class, which makes it nice and easy for me. They have a young guy instructor on Mon\Wed, and a young gal on Tues\Thurs. The gal is a good instructor, as I find that the young women are. But the guy...He's very full of himself, for reasons I simply cannot fathom. He is no Adonis, you know? Apparently he is a diver, and he literally spends just about the whole lesson session standing on the diving board, bouncing. He doesn't much get down at the kids level and give the pointers necessary for them to become better swimmers. He stays up on the diving board for all of us to see, and, apparently, to admire. Sometimes he sits on the diving board, and still bounces up and down on his largish behind. He irritates me.

But last night was the thing that clinched my dislike for this boy. The kids have been practicing doing a "kneel-dive" off of the low platform. Both instructors have been having the kids do this-it is something they work on at this level. Emily seems to just about always do a "belly-flop" when she dives from the low platform. She obviously needs the instructors to give her pointers to become better at this, or perhaps to do it more often, as they wait until the last 5 minutes of class, and the kids do it once.

But, as usual, in the last 5 minutes of class last night, the kids were to do their kneeling dives off the low platform. Emily went off, and you heard just a loud "slap" that I knew must have hurt her thighs. Right away, HER INSTRUCTOR AND ONE OTHER GUY INSTRUCTOR NEARBY began to clap and cheer! Now what was the purpose of that? The only purpose I can see is to embarrass and humiliate her. Did the instructor give her tips to avoid doing belly flops in the future? Not that I could see. And they apparently did the same humiliating thing to Stella-I missed it, as I was angrily telling this gal in the office about the whole thing.

Since when has humiliating a child become a teaching technique of theirs? I am angry. I will not have anyone humiliating my kid. At a decent hour, I'm calling the pool and speaking with the manager.

Stupid kid.

Revolving Door Birthday

Yesterday was Stella's birthday party celebration. It's always chancy in the summer when you send out those invitations. You never know who will be around. It's a busy time of year. Last year, she only invited three girls, so I called each family to find a time that worked for all involved. This year, her list of guests was longer, and since she wanted a sleepover, I didn't really care if not all could make it. This year we decided to take the girls swimming at an outdoor pool nearby, and then back to our house for a sleepover. This was what Stella wanted.

The only thing I did do was to call a neighbor whose daughter is a friend of Stella's, and whose birthday is the day after Stella's. I thought we should have the parties on different days. But she hadn't decided yet when to have the party for her daughter ("...we are going out of town the 17th, and my birthday is the 12th, so I just don't know...I don't think it matters..."). I felt stupid for calling. So I just chose the Saturday before Stella's birthday, and sent out the invites.

But like I said, this is a busy time. Stella invited seven girls, and this is what played out:

Skylar-Never RSVPd, assumed to be out of town

Anna (friend from our old neighborhood)-couldn't come as she was going camping with her grandparents

Erin (the neighbor with a birthday the day after Stella's)-This was weird. I tried to coordinate parties. Plus, Stella delivered an invite before Erin even got her invites out. But, Erin (meaning her mom) chose that same Saturday anyway to have Erin's bday party. And Stella was invited. Well, Stella couldn't go. Erin, though, did come to our party later that afternoon after we got back from swimming, but didn't spend the night, as she felt she needed to catch up on her sleep...What kid thinks like this? So she left about 9 pm.

Julia-came later at about 2 pm while we were at the pool. She had gone to Erin's bday first. She spent the night and left the next day at 11 am.

Brittany (BFF)-Came at 12:30 on Saturday, and left at 11 am on Sunday. The only person who stayed for the whole designated bday party.

Kaleigh (the most complicated)-Came at 12:30 to go swimming. Her mom picked her up at the pool at 2:30 to go to a soccer game. Another woman brought her back to our house at 6 pm. But since she had a soccer game on Saturday, she didn't spend the night and was picked up at 9:30 pm that night. There were many phone calls from her mom about all of this...

Rebecca-Due to some 4H and family commitments, Rebecca wasn't slated to arrive until about 9 pm that night and was to spend the night. But she couldn't wait that long, so her mom brought her over at 7pm.

In all, only three of the original seven girls spent the night, but that was fine with me. It was fairly quiet that way. As far as I know they are still sleeping.

Possibly, Maybe

The other day I started to read The Inheritance of Loss. Now, it may be a fine book, and one that I'd get into, but right now I just can't concentrate that hard. I need a book that grabs me from page one. But I might have found it. It is called The Reading Group. I bought it at a new/used book store nearby. It's used. The first couple of pages showed real promise. I'll keep you posted.

One thing I read in the book So Many Books, So Little Time that made me pause was the idea of what a risk you take when you, not recommend a book to someone, but when you actually give or loan them the book. You are really giving them a part of you. It puts you in a vulnerable position, actually, both as the giver and the receiver. The giver is taking a risk, because what if the receiver doesn't like the book? What does that say about your taste? Or your friendship?

And the receiver is likewise put into an awkward position. Are they obligated to read the tome whether they want to or not? If they don't read it, and they see the giver often, what then? Do you lie? Read the crib notes? The Amazon review and call it good?

It's like setting up someone for a blind date. Only do it if you know both parties really well. I'm guilty of being a giver before I really knew the receiver. I've also just been given a book that I know I'll never read. It was given to me by my sister-in-law. Now what do I do?

My Search Continues

I'm having a hard time finding a book to read. I so loved The Three Miss Margarets and the sequel, The Ladies of Garrison Gardens. Right now I'm in a rebound book-relationship; I begin a book, but it just is not my soul-mate, so I abandon it. I feel like I just won't ever find another good book again. And those two books I loved weren't great works of literature, I know. Just a darned-good read.

I got the book Honeymoon with my Brother per my mom's request, but had a hard time caring about the main character who is a well-off Republican. Even if his girlfriend did dump him at the alter.

I then started to read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. Her books The Bean Trees and Pigs in Heaven are two of my all-time favorite reads. But this is a whole book about her family's adventures of living off the land? Can even Ms. Kingsolver make that interesting? And further, while I was at swim lessons for my girls, I brought the book along. It was closed on my lap. I was idly running my hand over the cover. I felt a bump, and knew something was between the cover and the first page. I opened the cover to see a squished fly. Gross. Now there is blood there on the book. From a dead fly. Somehow natural and fitting for a book about living off the land, but repulsive to me, and I think I can't read the book now because of the fly blood.

So now I'm trying to read a book called So Many Books, So Little Time. I got this book as I could relate to the premise of the book: a gal who loves to read, and doesn't have enough time to read all the books she wants. That's me. But the book is not as witty as I hoped it'd be; after all, the author is married to someone who is on the Saturday Night Live staff and should know and appreciate funny. But I don't know any of the books she talks about, and I find it somewhat sickening that someone can afford to write a book about reading books (of course, I'm just jealous...The further-premise of the book is that she decides to spend a year reading a book a week, and write about that experience. She fails that goal, but how can someone afford to just read books? I wish I got paid to just read books...). And it's sort of just bragging about what high-brow books she reads...She didn't once mention The Three Miss Margarets. Some of the books she recommends might be good reads, but I need to see the actual book, as I judge books by their covers all the time. And I haven't connected with her enough to make a list of the books she recommends, and take that list to Barnes and Noble or Half-Price Books to see what they look like. It's ironic because she talks about falling in love with books, but I can't seem to fall in love with her book. I'm almost ready to set it aside.

I'm wandering aimlessly in my literature world.

July 4th

Another 4th of July has come and gone. I'm left with one thing to say: "Same, same, same..."

Fireworks are legal here on the 4th, and it seems that everyone must go crazy and spend lots of money. Eric took the girls out to get some, and only spent $33. The girls were happy. Our neighbor did the same, really, spending about twice that amount (but he does work for Microsoft...). Our other neighbors? They literally blow huge amounts of money. It's incredible. Our one neighbor even had launching things made up for the fireworks-a set up to rival any public firworks display.

The culdesac is ideal, and that's where we all congregate for the displays. We just walk out our front door. Everyone shoots off their fireworks. Kids are all over the place, which of course makes me very nervous. But no one has blown off a finger yet-knock on wood.

My girls were happy with their sparklers, "mole" things that spun and glowed different colors, Purple Rain ("Purple Rain..."), Pop-Its, and the cu-de-gra: this heart shaped thing with three wicks that was small but mighty-it didn't disappoint. They made these things last all night.

Three different neighbors, who are young or young at heart, and relatively well-off, bought the big stuff. They would load up the launching tubes, and light them at once. As they were going down the "line," lighting the fuses, the fireworks would explode. I was really nervous. I fully expected them to get injured. But they didn't. They were spectacular to see, but the cardboard and plastic containers would just rain down on us, and that got a bit old. In fact, I tend to reach a saturation point when it comes to the fireworks. I mean, how long can you watch them, really? There is a reason that most displays put on last about a half hour. After that, it all begins to look the same. So after I reached my limit, I came into the house and did the dishes. And watched the movie "Big" that was showing on PBS.

When I was a kid, the 4th of July was really down-played at home. When I was really little, I do remember getting together with family for a picnic. But as far as fireworks went, mom allowed us to have sparklers and that was it. She hated (and does to this day) fireworks. She always hated loud noises. I remember one 4th of July that Dad bought some bigger stuff-stuff that would send out colorful sparks, but not booming stuff. Even then, she had a fit and was so mad at Dad. If we wanted to see nice fireworks, we had to go to the official 4th of July display in town. So, I still have some of that nervousness inside me, and although I can watch and appreciate, I still always expect something to go wrong.

But that heart-shaped one we got was great. I think we'll get more of those next year.

To Whom It May Concern...

Just in case anyone reads my blog, either accidentally or on purpose, let me tell you that The Three Miss Margarets and it's sequel, The Ladies of Garrison Gardens, are two of the best books I've read lately! I highly recommend them. I'd loan them to you, but I have to loan them to my mother first.