Well. This day is just terrific.

LLO had words with me this morning. I’m ruining her life, don’t you know. She’s getting absolutely nothing for her new-found independence.  The fact that I have to work in the morning this week instead of drive her  to and from activities means that everything is about me.  Sure, I’m having a blast working.  Working is about as much fun as you can have on a Monday morning.

Especially this Monday morning.

The babies started trickling in 10 minutes early, because parents either bring their kids early to camp or late.  This is a fact well-documented by years of experience. I could do a study.  Time is relative to parents.  And because they were babies (a very, very young group of kids and lots of boys. You know about little boys, right?) lots of moms hung around.  Before start time, I had a younger sibling barf on the floor.  Spectacular.  And a little boy crying to his mom.  And all these moms hanging about.  I understand about moms, I was one.  But, seriously, get out already. Within an hour, I had one mom finally say that she was taking her kid home.  I’m like, ok. Then I notice that I’m short one.  The one crying at the beginning of the day who seemed to come out of his shell and be very happy.  I’m short a kid.  Holy shit. I’ve never lost a kid. Never even come close to losing a kid.  I freaked. Spawn was with me and she didn’t remember seeing him go either.  So I go up to my boss in a panic. It’s what I do. And she looked and she called the mom.  Who had taken him home.  I’m positive she didn’t say a word to me when she left.  Spawn is positive that she didn’t say a word to her when she left.  What the fuck. Would you ever take your kid and not tell someone?  Would you ever take your kid in the first place?  Because kids are notorious for being slow to warm up.  Just let it ride, see what happens.  But no, she took her baby and didn’t say one damn word about it.  And didn’t even apologize for not saying anything.  Instead said that the kids weren’t welcomed.  What? The other mother said the same thing. So maybe it’s true.  I can’t imagine how it’s true. Really, I can’t. But it doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. Because summer camp is about word of mouth.  And you’d better believe those two ladies will be word-of-mouthing

Managed to make it through the last two hours without losing any more kids.  I think the kids were happy, but what do I know.  I think the remaining moms were happy, but again, what do I know. My boss wasn’t exactly mad, because this has never happened before. I usually get kids who want to join in, not get out.

Then I went on the search for LLO.  Who was spitting mad.  Because instead of sitting in the shade between swim team and band camp (the plan as I knew it), she walked home and then back while wearing pants and a long sleeved shirt (excuse me 3/4 sleeve shirt) on the hottest day of the year giving her the opportunity to again mention how horrible her life is and how selfish I am for being unable to drive her around like the chauffeur I was always meant to be. It’s all about me, don’t you know.

Because today was so much fun.

Now I’m going to go hide somewhere. Preferably with my eyes closed.

I got a book out of the library- must be 3 weeks ago because it’s nearly overdue and therefore it’s time to open it.  It called to me on the shelf. It has Tinkertoys on the cover and the mighty engaging title of Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast.  Yep, I like to do 6 impossible things before breakfast, but not before coffee, let’s be clear on that. Obviously, if I can do them they are not impossible.  Don’t cloud my thinking with your reality, thank you very much.  Anyhow, I read the introduction, something I don’t usually do, because I’m pretty sure I can figure out what a book is about by reading it.  Anyhow, as I was reading this intro, I had a couple points where I felt the need to scratch my head.  The author called himself an “atheist reductionist materialist”, he doesn’t believe in anything, and explained that he will explain “evolutionary biology” with “Just So” stories. I’m intrigued. Because he sounds crazy loco to me. 

In other news, over there is that.

http://promisesunshine.wordpress.com/2013/06/23/turtle/

Also, Spawn got back yesterday from a beach trip with her church youth group.  I just had the most fantastic opportunity to use my joke about her finding Jesus on the beach.  Even her friend laughed hysterically. 

Busy week. Kinda kicking my butt. Fun, though.  Alice in Wonderland theme.  I can’t take credit for the theme idea, but I’m having fun with it and the kids are quite clever and creative.

Squiggle painting with my wonderful assistant and her sister.  They both heard me call E by Spawn’s name- if I ever hear from Spawn again, she will LOVE that! as it drives her out of her mind when I call her E by mistake. oops (Spawn is away at the beach with church group, finding Jesus and not calling her parents.)  Well, that was an interestingly punctuated sentence. You’re welcome.

We’re doing scenes for crazy characters (which are undone at this point, but perhaps less undone by this afternoon) and I thought these two paintings were just fab.  Many of the others are as well, but I didn’t get pics of everything with anonymity preserved.

Trying something I’ve never attempted before, but acting/reading is art too so we went with it.  And we naturally had to paint a backdrop for our recitation of the Jabberwocky. It’s even cooler now, but here’s in progress.  Yes, that would be a Jubjub bird and the Jabberwocky is in the middle getting blood all over him. Yikes.  Oh, and there’s a beamish boy to the left of the Jabberwocky.

We had a tea party yesterday.  Wow. We’re not ready for the queen.

Completely unrelated. My wacky little wildish roses.  Which are not red.

Surely we need a song too: HERE.  trippy

cannot believe I forgot THIS SONG which is on the radio right now (to satisfy my daily requirement of Tom Petty). 

Here’s what I’m thinking about.

LLO is celebrating summer by living at the pool.  I’m ok with this.  Except that (isn’t there always an “except”?) she’s going by herself.  All the time. I’m not aware of any meetings of friends- I’m sure she sees people she knows.  I know she’s having fun.  But 12 year old girls can’t even go to the bathroom without a friend.  Don’t you think this is weird? And it’s further complicated by the fact that she asked me the other day if she was old enough to walk to and from the pool.  I dropped her off and she walked home. I was stunned actually. Further stunned by the fact that she did it again Friday and yesterday.  I suppose it helps that there is a man-made wetland on her way home.  She digs that thing. Anyhow. She’s independent.  Who is this kid?  And should I be worried that she’s independent slash isolated?

On the other hand, she’s moaning and groaning about the start of band camp tomorrow.  A thing she asked for (which about knocked me off my chair.)  So, she’s still my girl and not some alien.

Isolated, though. And she’s not the only one. 

Spawn is not isolated at this moment as she is on the beach with 100 of her closest friends and several insane adults.  But, this morning when we dropped her off to catch the fancy bus to the beach with all these closest friends and insane adults, she hung out with her family.  All of the other teens were clustered together with their peers.  And all the other parents were clustered together with their peers. And the four of us antisocial folk hung out together.  And, on the one hand, I’m cool with that because my kids aren’t embarrassed to be seen in public with their parents (although they should be because we crazy) and I’m going to miss the snot out of her (eventually) so it was great to have those last moments and extra hugs.  But this is how it is with her too.  Not exactly a part of a gang.  Probably closer to the adults, in fact, than the kids.  It worries me. 

Then again, she’s not the only one either.

Because I’m hiding. I could have joined one of the parental chit chat groups this morning. I didn’t feel like it.  In fact, I don’t really feel like associating with anyone right now.  I think I’m ok hanging with kids.  I like them.   Which is a good thing because my summer break is pretty much over.  I start camps tomorrow.  And that’s ok, because kids are easy.

Anyhow.  Connection to moths HERE.

And a really cool song HERE.

and over HERE we have something else just for fun.

I need another weekend to recover from my weekend.  Lucky for me, I pretty soon have that.  In a way.

Also, I’ve already screwed up at WordPress.  Don’t make me learn new stuff, Xanga.

Save me from old women.  Warning. I might be offensive.  The odds are good.  Although old is not an age, it’s an attitude.  Right? Right.

Yesterday, Spawn and I went out for a treat at Panera (because I had an errand I didn’t want to do and wanted company).  As we’re sitting there this older couple came in.  The guy had that spacey look that men out with their wives sometimes have.  It became very clear within seconds, why he had that look.  Because she was so clearly dissatisfied with the condition of the table she wanted to sit at.  Vocally.  So vocal, that a very patient worker came over to take care of it.  Then she was dissatisfied with the seat.  And dissatisfied with how the seat was wiped.  And that it was wet.  And she just went on and on.  And then she noticed that her husband didn’t get exactly what he ordered and wanted him to complain about it.  He declined.  Apparently she does all the complaining in that union.  Made our little treat a little less enjoyable, I have to say. 

This morning, I had the pleasure of being “in charge” of the prep work for this ridiculous strawberry social at church tomorrow.  I don’t want to be in charge, let’s keep that in mind.  I must have been asleep or drugged when I agreed to this.  I might not have even actually agreed to it.  But there it is.  So there I am, showing up on time with the berries.  The whole crew was there already waiting on me.  I was on time, I didn’t apologize. Anyhow.  This one lady.  Holy crap. She needs to sit. So I bring her a chair.  The chair is too low, so I searched out a stool.  She needs help getting on the stool, so I helped her get on. She’s too far away from the counter, so I pushed her in.  She needs paper towels, so I hand her paper towels.  She needs another paper towel, so I hand her another paper towel.  She got strawberry juice on her pants and was having a cow.  I did not help her clean her pants.  I did not even feel sorry for her.  Because, hello! we’re cleaning strawberries, did you expect to stay clean?  I handed and helped and only rolled my eyes inside my head instead of outside.  Dear old lady. You are not helping. Next time just stay home. I’m just glad I got someone else to transport her. Because being her personal nursemaid used up all my nice.  The other older ladies got their own chairs and didn’t whinge about everything.  They are sweet.

Also, I hate “BBQ” aka sloppy joe.  It’s disgusting. 

In other news, my beloved children are still sleeping. It’s a beautiful thing. Perhaps they will be nice when they get up.

I think I might be able to paint now.  How cool is that.

I have had enough of this day.

I don’t like the end of school.  It frazzles me.  I don’t like people leaving me.  I don’t like finishing projects that I’ve put off. I don’t like cleaning up with any children, let alone the 1st grade crowd.  First graders (frankly, any child) love spray bottles.  They will spray until the cleaning solution is gone.  I nearly choked and died with the fumes today.  First graders get all excited and don’t follow directions so you have to repeat things. Once or twice. Or a million times. First graders suck at filing.  They think it makes sense to put papers all over the floor willy nilly and slip and fall on them.  Cleaning and organizing with first graders (frankly, any child) basically means that you have 100 times the noise and it will take 3 times as long to accomplish what needs to happen.  Of course the real problem is that I’m going to miss them.

I just talked to my mother.  She had shoulder surgery this week and I haven’t been able to see her because I got another freaking summer cold. I was worried about this surgery because she had the other shoulder done last March and very soon afterwards had a mini stroke.  I have it stuck in my mind that the anesthesia is the cause of the stroke.  Don’t spew facts at me, I won’t listen.  I was doubly worried because in one of her x-rays or something before the surgery some doctor of hers claimed there was a spot on her lung.  Well, apparently the doctor looked at it again and now says there’s no spot.  I want to wring that doctor’s neck.  Because maybe you ought to have looked twice or thrice or a bazillion times before you scared the shit out of us.  How can doctors not know what their words do.  I could make a whole long kvetch about dumb shit doctors have said that maybe they should have thought again about saying.  But it looks like I won’t.  Today anyhow.

LLO has already had the conversation with her sister moaning about how Spawn is so much better than her at _____.  Fill in blank with every thing under the sun.  Frankly my eyes just roll out of my head and down the street.  Because I have to wonder why we need to go there.  Again. 

And now Spawn is pissed at me. In the space of 7 hours she has discussed dropping out of two commitments that she voluntarily committed herself to.  Big ones.  Ones that don’t surprise me.  Her excuses would pass muster perhaps with someone with a less finely tuned bullshitometer. However, this mother is keenly aware of the main motivation for ditching stuff that takes effort and time.  And it’s not going to fly.  I don’t care if she goes through her retaliatory litany of my flaws as mother, family member, human bean. Yea, whatevs, baby.

On the flip side. I got a Tootsie Pop at lunch.  Spawn and I went on a mother/daughter voyage (before our unpleasant conversation) that included an errand I didn’t want to do and some laughing. LLO got an award at school for good grades and being just super.  She was pleased.  For a minute or two.  Hmm. Can’t seem to think of any others.  The coffee was fresh. It’s Friday. I have a bag of Twizzlers.

Crap. Just remembered I have another errand for today. 

Oh whatever. I’m blah and I know it. Here’s #1 baby quilt just about done or possibly all the way done depending on if I just run out of time or don’t give a rip anymore. 

I don’t appear to have anything else to say.

Peace out.

I was going to write some words, like I used to.