as mentioned yesterday, ben’s pencil box may have been the cause for his rocky start to the school year.
well, it looks like we have found the ying for his yang.
yoga.
at least that is what his note from his teacher said yesterday.
no incidents and plenty of zen.
hello yoga, where have you been all my life?
ben has had a rocky start to school.
one peer tutor bit.
one peer tutor hit.
one teacher hit, two days in a row.
these have been isolated instances. he seems to like the once a day approach as to not use all his moves too soon.
i would much rather prefer his moves stay on his body.
i can’t help but wonder if it is the pencil box he picked out for school that has brought out this bad boy persona.
i did not know they made a pencil box with spikes.
who does he think he is? pony boy?
i thought we were evening out the tough guy pencil box when he picked the super mario toothbrush for his hygiene kit at school.
the teeth marks on the peer tutor’s hand tell me i am mistaken in this assumption.
welcome to school year 2014/15.
while walking through the mall with my two lovelies this past weekend, i realized, without realizing, i was making comments on the clothes i was seeing.
“this is a shirt?!” it looked like a dish cloth
“these are shorts?!” they happened to be the same size as the hot pads i use in my kitchen.
“does this dress even cover the buttocks?” it was the term buttocks that made me realize what i realized i was realizing.
middle age is right around the corner and i am driving fast to get there.
i did not see any clothes i would wear.
does this mean my hipster days are over?
have i reached my prime and now i am slowly making my way to my un-prime?
are these now in my future?
i will now start learning words like ‘whippersnapper’ and ‘when i was your age….’ and ‘back in my days…’
i will also start wondering when my old people smell will start to kick in.
but first, i will plan my midlife crisis, and it will rock that old people smell to its core.
the bi-annual cleaning of ben’s teeth occurred today.
why bi-annual you ask?
because when ben goes for a teeth cleaning, an anesthesiologist is required to make this magic happen. and he happens to have my teeth, which means he is missing enough to make gaps that insure no plague will build up anytime soon which allows more time in between cleanings. yay for genetically bad teeth.
as with all trips down la la land lane, ben needed more help than the average size individual. the nice doctor felt that one valium would be enough to put him in a calm, dazed state in which one can easily manipulate him.
wrong.
“this dude needs a lot.” the doctor said. “is he done growing?”
unfortunately for ben, the underestimation of valium led to the definite estimation of a shot right into his arm to take him out.
“whoa!” ben started when the inkling of realization dawned on him that the shot was indeed intended for his body.
the following quotes were heard by my daughter, who was sitting in the waiting room waiting, which is a rather prudent use of a waiting room.
“i wish, i wish……..this is going to be massive…….i wish.” ben kept saying. i don’t know if he thought the shot was going to be massive or his wish was going to be massive.
“THEY’RE COMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
“HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME!”
“GET AWAY FROM ME!!!!”
with the valium, shot, and happy gas going, ben was still able to put up a fight when the actual i.v. was going in and he was still able to read the movie list and pick a movie to watch. poor thing did not know that in 5 minutes he was about to be knocked forcefully by heavy duty drugs into la la land.
“this is a strong kid.” the dr. said while trying to hold ben’s arm, and this was ben in slow-mo.
on the upside of the whole la la land adventure, ticket for one, ben did not once call me ursula mom.
em and ben have gone back to school, and, once again, high school will never be the same.
they both have new teachers, which makes me a nervous nelly since 1) emma does not talk and 2) ben, although communicated his wants and needs rather well, cannot sit and tell me about his day.
when i picked them up at the end of the day, ben was struggling. the end of the day is when his anxiety kicks into high gear because he is suddenly very sure that i will not make it to pick him up.
when i got there, he was sweating through all his clothes, face flushed, and ready to fight.
then he saw me, and all anxiety left him. this kid knows how to make a mom feel wanted.
em, on the other hand, was coolness in a 5’2″ package of awesomeness.
i took them to the local market to pick out a treat to celebrate survival of the start of school year 2014/15 where ben immediately picked out the following:
and
and
i was able to talk him down from the mountain dew to a sprite, and the mega pack of jerky to a small pack of jerky, but he refused to budge from the mega bag of popcorn.
i guess the first day of school required some serious drinking and eating to get over.
yesterday, with wanton disregard, i sullied the hubby’s picture reputation, and i did it in the public forum of facebook, which the entire world obviously uses.
it read as follows: for the first time ever in the kid’s illustrious school career, i was not home for the first day of school, but at work. i left the hubby in charge of the camera for first day of school pics. we will not be posting first day of school pics. thank you and good bye.
as you can see, these words insinuate that he failed at his picture taking duties, he did not. he did get this picture.
it was here that things started to get a little sketchy
and they stayed that sketchy for 5 more pics.
sweetheart, i publicly apologize to you, not on facebook, which the world uses, but on my blog, which 155 people read. same diff.
you are the anne geddes of this household.
today was the first day of school for my little pack of wolves.
i missed them so much.
how much you ask?
enough to make it all about me.
and this is how missed them.
for those of you who don’t know me, this is exactly what i look like.
i think i am going to miss my kids more often.
my daughter does not have any experience working around a beehive. she does not own any of the gear to protect herself, nor does she know how to smoke-out some pesky bees.
in other words, she is totally unprepared for the next three years of her life.
but still, i will send her to the hive.
i am sending her into the buzzing hive of uncontrolled body odor, teen-age angst, uncontrolled emotions, testosterone levels of hazardous proportions and wanna be queen bees.
that’s right, she is heading to junior high.
that three year time period in our life when we fit as much awkwardness as humanly possible.
i hated junior high.
hate does not begin to express my feelings about junior high, so let me expound.
animosity, horror, loathing, hostility, venom, abomination, bete noire, no love lost, revulsion, disgust, abhorrence.
i still don’t like the wanna be queen bee of my junior high years.
did not like her at the 10 year reunion.
still don’t like her 14 years after the 10 year reunion.
so, what advice to i give my daughter heading into the hive?
bring on the bees.
dear road bike,
it has been over a year since we last hung out, i missed you.
yesterday was a breath of fresh air mixed with leg pain and buttock pain.
i have missed how you never cared that i did not wear a matching biking outfit whenever we went out.
i really haven’t missed how you never did any of the work going up hills, and then you took all the credit for going fast downhills.
or you seat, i really have not missed your seat.
i am sorry i neglected you and left you sitting for so long with terrible tires.
but i say, let bygones be bygones.
i am glad the hubby got new tires for you even though it means we will be hanging out again and leaving him.
it’s time we rocked the roads of northern utah once again and make everyone watch us in awe.
in this post, i will expound on the etiquette of when to stare, and when not to stare.
learn it, live it, love it.
when to stare:
butt cracks, one cannot help it, stare away.
car accidents. admit it, we stare.
superman, with a beard. never stop staring.
although it is ok to stop staring at this.
arm pit hair on women. that is a shudder stare.
now let us discuss when it is not ok to stare at.
at my children.
i understand emma and ben are unique. they are not freaks. they are not so unusual that you need to turn your body to continue staring as we walk by.
the are not so interesting that i have to actually say, ‘you need to stop staring now.’
what needed to be stared at was your out of control children.
that would have been a good thing for you to notice.
yes, ben walks like he has his own drummer keeping rhythm.
yes, emma does wear noise reduction head phones and is usually carrying some household cleaner.
BUT.
that might merit a look, of course, but not a full-on stare with mouth open.
when it would be acceptable to stare at my children is if you happen to see this.
then by all means stare, and say hello while you are at it.
this message has been brought to you by an accomplished starer.
Stodmor's Blog: Surviving motherhood without eating your young 