Lowering my standards….

What a day! I have been horribly let down by the standards of young people I encounter, including my own young people.

Now, I will generally not write about work, it is not blog appropriate. But what happened today has taught me a lesson. Some kids at school today, well, abused their off campus privilege. I was upset that they would do this, they are all the sweetest girls. Great students. I was in a spot between them and their parents. It hangs on my heart all day, worrying about where they were for an hour, having to tell their parents, their not respecting our rules. I was disappointed and hurt.

Later, my kids and one extra are being driven to swimming by my hubby. Now who knows who started it all, but the kids conversation went in the gutter. P-O-T-T-Y talk. References to peeing and private parts. If I was drivin’ I’d been listenin’ and been stoppin’ THIS car! I don’t tolerate potty talk at all and my kids know it. So, out of guilt, Ruby gives me the full report of who said what and that she hardly said anything (right…) I was ticked. Shamed both children and encouraged them to not contribute or listen to conversation unbecoming of well behaved children.

Later still, River reports that a kid in his class is “gonna take him down” out at recess. And already has a few times. When I hear who, my jaw drops. The one kid I hoped he would become friends with. I know I’m a snob for saying this, but there are many kids from unstable homes with uninvolved parents in River’s class. This kid that was picking on him is from a really nice family! The other kids are looking better now. River hasn’t made any good friends this year and he weeps for his old preschool best friend Logan.  So do I.

So… I can’t win today. So, I think I need to lower my standards. I’m too uptight. I expect perfection and I’m just not getting it. I need to go lower.

The girls: let it go. They are good girls, this rite of passage was bigger than being late to class.

The potty talk: let it go. This is what kids this age do. Part of discovery I guess. I will still frown on it an hold my own children to a high but not quite so high standard.

Kindergarten bullying: Not letting it go. Sending my hubby to “volunteer” during recess tomorrow and deal with the trouble maker.

Sorry this was not a funny blog. Do any other moms feel like this? Do you feel like your standards are in constant conflict with the world your children live in? How do you not lose your mind?

Grace…not!

Today was a big day at work.  Our middle school students were downstairs in the common area, one by one giving presentations on a subject they had picked to study since the beginning of the school year.  They were so cute and nervous.  I gave out more tums to kids today than I have all year.  But here’s the serious bit….. be respectful during the presentations, and by all means, be quiet.

So… I am tip toeing in my CLOGS down the stairs.  I decide to side step side so as  not to tap the rubber tread with the sole of my clog and make a tiny noise.  I am going for NO noise right?  I fell.  No shit.  Hurt my ankle a little.   Managed to do it without too much noise.  But still folks, what the heck?  I think I am going to chart my falls and see how frequently they happen.  I think there will be a direct correlation with the number of days I wear my clogs.

Not myself…..

Tell me if this has ever happened to you: To momentarily escape from the monotany and predictability of your life you…maybe….daydream during a song, while driving?

Here’s me the other day: driving home, have so many things to think about that I revolt and decide to, well, not think of any of them and become “not myself.”

“Not myself ” is who I would maybe be had I not chosen the path of marriage, family, job, and home ownership. “Not myself” is in THIS moment, a cute folk singer, who has an incredible voice that just wows everyone who hears it. And she is so passionate, and well, she can hold a note for a really long time. Patty Griffin. Singing “Chief.”

The ipod is cranked, and in my head (not out loud) I am belting out:

I wish you could see me when I’m flying in my dreams, the way I laugh there way up high, the way I look when I fly. The way I liiiiiiiiiiiiiiivvvve. The way I flyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy(mom?)yyyyyyyyyyyyy(maaooom?)yyyyyyyyyy(MOM!)yyyy..

me-”WAAAAAHAAAAATTTTT?!?!?!? WHAT COULD BE SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU HAVE TO KILL MY FOLK SINGER MOMENT…THAT I WAS HAVIN! Dog gonnit! Clearly my kids were not aware that is was NOT their mother driving the van.

Or rather that I got flushed back into reality like a terd taken out by a high powered industrial toilet.

Dammit. Here’s Patty, aka “Not myself”:

Peace.

Zero

Today I got nothin for you. No-thing. Zero. Can’t think of anything witty to say. Or profound.

Except that maybe I could tell you that I love my kids and my son cracks me up. We got caught up in a cheesy movie on Disney tonight… basically some kid hits puberty and turns into a merman. Normally kids would grow hair.. this one got scales. What cracks me up about River is that as he is watching a glistening, sparkling, underwater moment, he extends his arms out sweetly into an arch, mimicking the mermaid mommy on the tv. He forgets that there is anyone else in the room. Until, I snicker. Then he spins around and thunks me on the arm and says in his most threatening 6 year old voice, “Don’t tell anyone!” Whoops. I just told….uh….EVERYONE! But he is just so cute! I love to see them get pulled into the “feel good” of these movies that would make one, not in the presence of small children, want to barf. I mean really, the predictability, the Cheese for Pete’s sake! But they are not for us, these movies are for kids. Mine are dreaming of mermaids right now I’m sure.

Oh… and Oh…mah…golly goodness! I had to have the birds and bees conversation with my daughter last night! She is 7. I will blog on that later. I am still reeling from having to “go there.”

I guess that was not zero after all. It was 254 words to be exact.

Peace (255)

My ‘hood

I live in the coolest neighborhood ever. Indianola. I like to call it Indianfrigginola sometimes, because it has a fun ring to it, but there is nothing ‘friggin’ about it that I’ve found yet. It used to be a summering community for Seattlites back in the day so there are cute little cottages scattered about. We have a sweet community store, a wee little Post Office, and the best beach in the Puget Sound….fa real. There are kids everywhere. Great neighbors throughout with a sense of humor. Check out our stop signs:

My Bed

I love my bed. I’m like a kid jumping into a pile of leaves when it comes to my bed. Wheeeee! I love it. Soft sheets, heavy, thick down comforter….cozy happy place. Now, it is all about sleep for me and my bed. Other stuff happens there..occasionally, but it is the snuggle down cozy warm comfort that gets me excited. Then sleep. My husband would prefer that it was his presence in the bed that caused my excitement, and sometimes yes, but mostly it is the promise of undisturbed sleep. Mostly. It is just where I am in life, ok?

Devil car.

We bought a used Honda last fall. I’m a VW girl. I think you were all made aware of that in my introduction. Hubby wanted the honda. It hates me. I hate it. It was pimped out with a super loud muffler. It even had a sticker on the back that said, “muff motion.” Yeah.. that’s appropriate for me to drive to work…. I work at a SCHOOL!!!! The sticker is gone, replaced with apple sticker. VW drivers usually use macs. We are cool like that.

The car and I have a mutual hatred. Mark says I gotta drive it to work, less wear and tear on the VW van. I whine. I stomp. I give in and drive it to work. I can’t even listen to my ipod in it. The belkin thing works crappy… ugh.. whine, whine, whine. I have to run an errand while I’m at work..to the post office. Now… the car was nearly out of gas when I was encouraged to drive it that morning. To me, this is like not replacing the roll of toilet paper when there are only a couple of sheets left. Driving in to work.. the gas light comes on. Mid day, I run my errand, and stop to fill up the car before returning to work. No starty. Cranking….. nothing. The ignition went out. Bad news… it will have to be towed and fixed ($$$$). Good news.. I won’t have to drive it for a while.

It’s fixed. I drive it, reluctantly to a friend’s house. Fun Jenny (www.jennyonthespot.com) We are going to laugh hard and shop. When we are done, we hop in, and……no starty. Car flippin hates me. I call Mark, he makes a suggestion… with the battery, and viola! It starts. I safely get Jenny home and then myself. I am SOOOOOO driving the van tomorrow!

River Speak

My son is hilarious. He has natural wit and accidental humor. Here’s a few of my fav’s from his mouth…. and as he comes up with them, I’ll share more:

Post Hurricane Katrina, I’m in a bad mood, kids won’t clean up their room. I say, “You know, I’m just gonna pick up these toys on the floor and send them to the kids in Louisiana and Mississippi, because the hurricane washed all their toys away and they’ve got nothin’ now!” That night at the dinner table, River announces to his dad that he is going to send some of his toys to “Mrs. Ippi” because her kids lost all their toys in the storm.

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The kids and I are sitting at the table with one of my friends and her two kids. About to eat lunch, River says, “Wait! We have to say grace first!” My friends daughter, who is an absolute hoot in her own rite, says in a very matter of fact way, “We don’t say grace. We are not Christians.” River looks around the table at all of us, grins, and says with the appropriate tone, “Awkward!” Folks, he was like, four years old!

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I am driving the kids home after school one day, talking about their day. River holds up a paper ghost, wearing glasses, playing a guitar, glued to a Popsicles stick. Ruby tells me about her day. Then we are quiet…just heading home. River breaks the silence to announce that,”Mom, F#ck is a bad word.” Me… “OH MY GOSH YOU BET IT IS! WHERE DID YOU HEAR THAT? THE BUS? SOMEONE AT SCHOOL? SOMEONE IN KINDERGARTEN? WHO DO YOU KNOW THAT IS SAYING THAT WORD?!?!?!? I am clearly freaking out. He starts to cry. Oh…..um…..oh……did you hear momma say that word? Daddy when he fell the other day? Honey…honey… it’s ok, you can tell me. Through his tears he tells us that they were studying the letter F that day in school. The kids were sitting around sounding it out…”Ffffaaaahhhh, Ffffaaahhhh, Ffffaaaahhhhrog.” You get the idea. Well, that’s when my boy dropped the F-bomb. Accidentally of course. I asked what his teacher said about it. She said we don’t use that word in the classroom. Clearly. But it has been heard on occasion at his home. To top it off, he says to me, “Mom, I don’t know bad words, really. But I know bad manners.”

Yes those ARE my children!

Me: white girl, red hair, freckles, everyone thinks I’m Irish, which I’m not but I work it on St. Patrick’s Day anyway.

Husband: Very goo rooking Asian man. He’s Korean, but grew up in the midwest, so he is a twinkie, yellow on the outside, white in the middle.

Our offspring: Mostly Asian….mostly.

Of course I pondered what our children would look like, made my little Punnet squares with our dominant and recessive genes (biology major here). But when Ruby was born, wow, what a shocker. She looked just like Mark, minus the gotee and the man goods. Then, 19 months later River arrives. Mark actually said in the delivery room, “Wow, he’s a white baby!” And he was too, fair skin, light hair, round eyes.

Our kids are stinkin’ beautiful. Really. Now that they are older, River looks like he could be a mixture of something, but Ruby… no. She could pass for 100% Korean. I could look at them all day long. They are yummy.

No one thought they were my children when they saw them with just me. People have said, and I am not joking here:

“When did you get them?” me- on their birthdays!

“Where are they from?” me- my uterus! Yes, I really said this to her.

“Are they biological siblings?” me-duh!?!!? Like they were reunited somehow!

“Would you like information on the Korean adoptees association?” me- sure, I’ll give it to my HUSBAND!!!!

Now, I am not insulted, but amused by these sort of comments. Around here there are so many children adopted from China that it is not unusual to see a white mom with Asian kids. I guess it is so common that more people assume that is my story rather than my marrying an Asian man.

So… here is the WORST encounter I’ve had. Now, remember that I said River looked mostly white when he was born, right? I’m in the doctors office, with him and he is just over a month old. We are there for a normal check up. A woman walks in and sits next to me. She coos over my cute kid. Then she says, ” Now that is what I don’t like to see, (pointing to a couple across the waiting room), salt and pepper mixed together.” Black man, white woman, with twins in little carseats… rocking their babies back and forth as cute as could be. This was just after MLK day, mind you. My face got hot, my stomach churned, and I mustered the nerve to tell her that I completely disagreed with her, and what’s more, the cute little one in my arms she was cooing over was biracial as well! Humpf! She went on to tell me she didn’t mind the ‘orientals.’ Oh….. and that she just felt sorry for what the kids would endure. I told her old ass that the world doesn’t work that way anymore. She got called back for her appt, and the woman across from me promptly handed me a tissue box. I bawled. I was so caught of guard. I should have been braver, I have always felt like I let MLK down that day.

Stupid, stubborn, ignorant people suck.