Archive for the ‘parenting’ Category

Okay, I was wrong

The Room Mother Lady and her germie sammies and germie kid were not responsible for The Boy’s illness.  As it turned out, he has a sinus infection that led to an ear infection.  And not just your garden variety ear infection.  Seems The Boy has ‘a weird film and even bubbles’ layering his left tympanic membrane. 

So, I apologize for wanting to punch your face for bring your sick self and your sick boy to the Valentine’s Day party.  However, I can’t speak for Amanda’s mother or Tristan’s mother.  I will say, though, as a general rule, if your kid has been out sick all week and you are running a fever yourself…well, maybe it would be a great idea to delegate your room mother duties and keep you and your sick kid home.  Just in case…since it is flu season and all. 

I was tickled to see how Tanya, our PA, was so tickled to see The Boy.  Last year she saw him enough that ear tubes and what not were talked about.  This winter, he has been amazingly well.  Until now.  But really, we’ll take one ear/sinus infection as opposed to the 5 he had last winter. 

However, when we went to the pharmacy to pick up his meds, and me without my insurance card, I about had a heart attack when the pharmacy tech came to the window and said that one Rx was 149.00 and the other 120 and change.  After I was through with my myocardial infarction, I suggest maybe they do a little computer search to see if maybe they missed The Boy in the system.  After searching his sister and Dad, they did indeed find that he was covered on our Tricare insurance.  Total bill with insurance…12 bucks.

Breathe, I did, after the tech came to the window after she did some looking and said “okay, this is better,” when she said 12 bucks as opposed to 260 and change. 

That ‘come to Jesus moment’ in the drive through just reminded me how lucky we are that we happen to have this amazing insurance thanks to the US Army and Rob’s 23 years of service.  Thanks to his service, we won’t ever have to worry about getting the medicine The Boy needs.  Yet, it always makes me think of the folks who don’t have insurance…and it makes me feel bad for them.  What the hell do you do when your kid is sick and needs medicine and rent is due and you need gas and lunch money.  How hopeless you would feel in the drive-through at CVS.

And that, is why I am voting for hope.

Hope.  It’s a good thing.


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 Yesterday was the Boy’s Valentine’s Day Party at school.  To prove that I am not the oldest, laziest mother on the planet, of course I jumped at the chance to provide cupcakes for said party.

*note to self – they are happier, apparently, with those tiny, nasty little cupcakes from Walmart.  Next time, grab a bag of some nasty premade treat instead of toiling over your homemade and carefully decorated ones, k?*

Anyway, so when I get there, the Room Mother Lady was there, just beginning to set up the table.  She looked sick.  Her Boy was sequestered over in that chair over there, instructed to ‘stay away from people.’  

It turns out that Her Boy had been home alllllllll week with THE FLU *real flu or bad cold, people just call it the flu around here’ but she ‘hated for him to miss his party,’ so she opted to bring him up to participate in the festivities.  Oh, and she tells me she has a fever and the air coming out of her nostrils when she breathes is firey hot.


So, the kids are served their sandwiches and chips and soft drinks and cheese-flavored popcorn that tastes weirdly like dish soap, greasy cookies, waxy frosted cupcakes, and proceeded to completely ignore the homemade tasty treats.  


Her Boy sat at the front of the classroom, facing the classroom, and for the better part of an hour coughed and spewed germs out of his head holes.  About 10 minutes before party over time and AFTER the delivery of about 8 Valentine-Daygrams she’d bought for him (reckon that’s why she hauled the germ festival up there to share?), well, THEN she decided that Her Boy felt soo bad she better take him on to the house.

So me and the Girl Scout Cookie Mom cleaned up.  

OH.  Know what else?  Room Mother Lady, the one who was sick and running fever…well, she is the one who put all the sandwiches together and lovingly cut them into heart shapes.

Let’s just read that ‘she made 24 little petri dishes of germiness to feed to the class…with mayonnaise.’

I’m sure some of you have already figured out where I’m going with this.

and you’re right.

At about 12 today my phone rang.  Seems My Boy is in the office complaining of a headache and chills.  My Boy who I have managed to this point to keep well and out of the doctor’s office all year has a headache and chills.  


So, the Mr. ran up the street to retrieve the poor thing and he promptly changed into PJ pants and his sheik robe and has been asleep on the couch with Belle the rest of the afternoon.

Would the fact that Room Mother Lady and I had at least a 10-minute conversation about how inconsiderate it is for people with sick kids to go ahead and send them to school?  How it is a pain in the ass to us when their kids make our kids sick…would that be irony?

Well, Room Mother Lady, I just want to say thank you.  Thank you for sharing your germs with the Boy.  He really needed a long weekend of beng sick anyway.  I hope Your Boy enjoys his red carnaton and white carnation and pencil and keyring and paper heart and stuffed cat and stuffed penguin from his “secret admirer.”  I really hope it was totally worth potentially infecting the other 25 people in the classroom yesterday. 

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 So, ya’ll know how the Sub has been subbing pretty much on a regular basis since she graduated from college with a Bachelors Degree in Marketing and Business Administration and hasn’t been able to land the dream job.  She likes it enough that she’s decided that if said dream job doesn’t come down the pike pretty damn fast she is going to go ahead and get her teaching certificate.  It’s a plan and I’m all for it.

Except for day’s like today when she comes home from school and says she pretty much just wants to take a shower and scrub her skin raw and then just go to bed so this day can be behind her since The Kid who Asked Her to Homecoming the first time she subbed, then gave her his school picture with his phone number, then continually bothered her about it every time she subbed out there wrote under the lab table a vulgarity about her anatomy and was making nasty hand gestures about her. 

Apparently not soon enough, this time she wrote him up and sent him to the office and will have to file an incident report.

She’s tried so hard to ignore it in hopes he would finally stop.  He didn’t.

Today was sexual harrassment, plain and simple.  By an 8th grader…

When I was in 8th grade, Zeke didn’t even have the balls to ask another 8th grader “to go with” him.  No, he’d have Drexel go ask her.  And the whole time you were “going out” with Zeke, the actual amount of interaction amounted to passing notes in the hall and maybe sitting by each other on the rock wall during “break.”  

Oh, there was an occasional lethario like Paul, a transplant from a Carolina who had the prettiest mouth and the softest lips I have ever kissed, who DID have the balls to handle his own love life.  Oh hell no, Paul didn’t need his buddy to do his talking for him.  Paul would just come right to your house and do it his ownself.  

There was this one time, the summer between 8th and 9th grade, when he came calling to my house…

Yeah, he had lovely lips.  Ah, a fond memory but I digress.

What I want to know is how in the hell is it that an 8th grader has the balls to act the way this kid has with the Sub.  Yes, she is pretty.  Yes, she is young.  Yes, they are boys.  Yes, I know that 14-year-old boys are nasty little creatures who constantly think about sex and boobs and sex and cheeseburgers and boobs and sex.

But man… Seriously?   Nasty hand gestures about the Sub right there in front of the Sub?!?!?  

I know…I know.  I haven’t parented a 14-year-old boy yet, but lemme just tell ya this.  If I EVER hear tell that the Boy treated a woman in such a disrespectfall manner, it will take him days to remove my boot from his ass.  

And that’s a promise you can hold me to.

Wait…a…minute.  A thought occurs to me…

Perhaps the problem lies not with these disrespectful children but with the parents who didn’t teach them TO respect.

What do y’all think?  Is this a case of “boys being boys,” or is it straight up sexual harassment?  Am I just being naive about “how boys are” or what?

I do know this.  Whether she is 22 or not, my mom instincts make me want to call his mother or kick his ass myself, one or the other.


But I won’t.

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