My son is OBSESSED with Mustangs (the car).

Whenever we’re driving, he points out every single one that passes us.

I drove my husband to the airport for a business trip and our son was in the backseat. I was telling my husband about the bank his father had given The Boy and that The Boy was saving up for a Mustang and had asked me how much one cost.

Me: I told him it was a couple of thousand dollars.

Steve: You mean a couple of tens of thousands of dollars.

Me: It doesn’t matter to him. He’s nowhere close to having even one thousand dollars.

Noah: Well, I will be getting a Mustang soon, you know.

Me: Soon? Really? How do you figure that?

Noah: I am almost 16.

Me: You’re almost 16?

Noah: Yeah. Look, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17…16…see? I’m almost 16.

My son is on a punishment today because he was mouthy and defiant last night getting ready for bed. He can’t watch TV which is a hard one for me to enforce since my office/work area is two rooms away and he likes to turn the volume way down so I don’t know the TV is on.

Anyway, he’s been pretty good today and I told him that if he turned on the TV he couldn’t play with his friend.

So, I was sitting at my desk and suddenly I hear the back door slam. I figured he’d seen a friend outside but decided it would be a good idea to just go check.

I went out and saw him getting his bike while his friend, another little boy about 8 or 9, had his bike and was waiting. They both looked at me when I came out of the house.

Me: I just heard the back door close and I wanted to see what was going on. I guess you’re going to go play.

His friend: I wanted to tell… (He stands with his arms spread wide.) How do I look?

Me: You look fabulous. (He’s got on a blue and yellow striped shirt and blue shorts.)

He: You…I like your shirt (my old pink flowered T) and you look beautiful. (He dropped to his knees and bowed.)

My son watched all this, kinda confused.

Me: Noah looks fabulous. You look fabulous. We all look fabulous.

He: I think so.

Then the boys rode off talking about bowling parties for their birthdays.

I love days that start like this!

I took Noah to Chick-fil-a after he got out of school at noon for the next to last day on Tuesday.

I hadn’t packed him a lunch as I figured he’d come home and I’d take him out.

In the car, he told me that they’d had eggs and bacon at school. Don’t really get that and he isn’t always the most reliable witness, so I was confused, but then I always am with school stuff.

Anyway, we went home and he changed his clothes. When we got to the restaurant, we saw lots of cars with stickers from his school, so I told him maybe changing hadn’t been necessary and he’d have lots of friends to play with.

Now, normally, the lure of the playplace is too much and he doesn’t always eat all his lunch. Also, his ADHD meds sometimes take away his appetite, so I didn’t expect him to eat much. And if he’d had food at school…. It didn’t matter. This trip was just so he could play and he and Mommy could do something special together.

At one point he told me he was ready for his milkshake, which is a traditional end of our trips there. I asked him if he was done eating and he showed me that he’d eaten everything.

“Wow,” I said, “you scarfed down those chicken nuggets.”

“I was hungry,” he replied. “That’s what a Noah is.”

High School Never Ends

So, I wasn’t one of the popular kids in high school – whatever that means. My mother thought I was since lots of kids signed my yearbook. After all, popular means lots of people like you, right?

Anyway, we know that it didn’t mean that then. And I don’t know that it means that now, but you know what? I like who I am and where I’ve come to and what I’ve gone through to get here.

And deep down I don’ t want to be one of the popular kids even now, but….

A few weeks ago, I got invited to the Volunteer Appreciation Luncheon at Noah’s school. I’ve worked in the library a couple of times this year (when she actually had something for me to do) and I helped out with two of the three second grade science days (geography and weather).

To be honest, I almost didn’t go to the luncheon because it was a busy week and I had something that took me out of the house every day. I thought I could just bag it, but I thought I remembered going last year and it was fun, so I decided to go.

I don’t think I remembered going last year.

I walked into the Activity Center and there were all these tables set up, and 8th graders milling around with people in suits and nice dresses.

I was wearing my pink HeartLA t-shirt and jeans.

I went to another room in the Activity Center and found a woman I know is also a volunteer and her daughter’s in Noah’s class. She said yes this was the right place and that the 8th graders were going to be servers.

So, not a casual buffet, I’m guessing.

Anyway, the bottom line of all this is that it was a dress up luncheon – which was not stated on the invitation but everyone but me knew that. There were also reserved tables for an award winner and the board of the Home and School Association, to which I don’t belong because I just don’t want to pay extra for dues and all that.

So, we had a nice lunch of Mexican Food to celebrate Quatro de Mayo (it was May 4th), the Home and School Association presented the Mother Seton Award. This award goes to a woman (maybe it could got to a man, what do I know) who has worked with the Home and School Association for at least five year.

When the list of the winner’s contributions and accomplishments were read, I have to believe there was only five years out of her life when she WASN’T doing something for Home and School. She ran the auction for 20 years and was a room mother for 18 and did something else for 15 and some other thing for 8 and fourteen other things for 5 or 9 or 11 years and the list went on and on.

I kinda made some of that up since I can’t remember the “just a short list of her accomplishments” that was read to us before she got the award. I honestly wonder how she had time to raise her kids (two of whom were there with their spouses).

Now, let me say, this is a Catholic School and the people are genuinely nice, so no one commented on my attire and the ladies at my table (two of whom I kinda know and one has a son in Noah’s class) talked to me and it was pleasant.

It just wasn’t “fun.” I think In must be thinking of the VBS volunteer lunches because those are fun!

Anyway, next year, while I’ll still volunteer, I am bagging the luncheon.

So, this brings me to the next thing and a dilemma.

Noah and I decided yesterday that I’ll make rosaries for each of his teachers as end of the year gifts. We even went out to Hobby Lobby and picked out beads for each one. Today on the way to school, he told me I need to get working on them!

Then I open my email and there’s a note from our room mother saying that the Home and School has an idea for a gift for all the teachers. I don’t want to go into much detail on it because I have teacher friends and I don’t want to spoil the nice surprise, but they recommended that if we are planning to give a gift to our teachers, we donate to their cause instead.

They’re going to provide a list of all kids whose parents donated to the teachers, so I guess if they don’t get a gift from Johnny or Betty they’ll know why.

We’ve lived all over the country and Juliette’s gone to six schools from kindergarten through high school. Every year – EVERY YEAR – I never know what’s going on and I’m running to catch up. When Noah started kindergarten, I went to the new parents’ orientation and thought, Okay, I’m starting fresh and I’m the same as these parents. I’m new, too, and I won’t be behind because I didn’t grow up here or go to this school.

Then someone stood up and said, “If you plan to order supplies from Louisiana Office Supply, you can still do it.”

What? How does anyone know that’s an option if this is NEW PARENTS’ Orientation? When were we told about that?

Again, I was playing catch up.

I will never be part of the Home & School clique, as nice as these people probably are. I have one kid at the school so I won’t be volunteering for several grades every year. I love the school and the church and all, but I’m not emotionally invested in the building or the grounds or even the uniform. Those are trappings.

I love my son and I will fight to make sure he gets the best education and is treated well and fairly and his needs are met. I don’t know that worrying about auctions or parties or a big gift for all the teachers will do that. I will thank his teachers with a gift from my heart.

Maybe I’ll never be a cool kid, but I’ll be the best mom I can.

Today I had to run some errands and since school is out for spring/Easter break, I took Noah with me. One of the things we had to do was go to the Y and sign him up for swimming lessons and summer basketball.

From the front desk at the Y, you can see into the childcare room, where Noah spent many hours when he was younger. He stood next to me today and said, “It’s like looking at my past.”

I thought that was a pretty astute observation for a nine year old and said, “Yep.”

Then he said, “I saw a kid who looked just like me when I was little. We must be on an alternate time line.”

What can you say but, “Yes, I guess that must be it.”

The Boy and I were sitting at the dining room table this morning after he’d eaten breakfast but before it was time to leave for school. He had just finished writing his spelling words for the test today.

Me: Go put your belt on.

The Boy (making sarcastic quote marks in the air): Put your belt on. Put your belt on. Everyone tells me to put my belt on.

Me: You know what would stop that?

The Boy: If I put my belt on.

…or was it, “A Timelord walks into a church…”

Anyway, if you have been on my Facebook page much or know much about me at all, you know that my family are Doctor Who fanatics.

And as much as we love the 900+ year old TimeLord (last of), sometimes there are more important things in life.

The Boy is going to be doing his first communion in May, and therefore, he needs to study the elements of the Mass.

This morning, while he ate his Cheerios, I was going over the elements of the Mass and the items the priest wears. He is having a little trouble but we’ll work on it.

At one point I asked him what a chasuble is. He calls it the priest’s “holy shirt” which is fine, if not totally correct and WON’T be on the test that way, but I asked him what color a chasuble is.

Me: Does the priest just get to wear whatever color he wants?

The Boy: No. It might be Advent or Day of the Dead or Ordinary Time.

Me: So he wears the color of the Liturgical season?

The Boy: Right and if it’s the day the Doctor is coming, then he wears Blue! ::giggles::

See, you didn’t know Doctor Who is everywhere, did you?

On another Doctor Who related Mass situation:

Last Sunday I was sick and couldn’t make it to church so The Girl sat with the Boy while Beloved sang in the choir. The kids sat in the cry room (which frankly is a mistake if you ever want to pay attention or teach your child that Mass is NOT a time for playing!) and at one point, the Boy was muttering, “So no jo ho po to ro so.” (Confused? See video and explanation will follow.) (I guess you have to click the links to see the videos. I don’t know why it won’t just have them embedded, but whatever. They’re funny. Watch. I’ll wait.)

Judoon

The Girl then turned to him and said, “Stop that.”

A moment later, he did it again.

The Girl: Stop being the Judoon.

The Boy: I’m not being the Judoon.

The Girl: Stop being the Doctor talking to the Judoon.

The Boy: ::giggles::

Doctor Who AND the Judoon

Life is fun at our house.

I bought a Wii, and for the record, I actually bought it so I could have Wii Fit, so technically, it’s my Wii. I do, of course, let The Boy play it and he loves it.

He plays it almost every day, except for the times that he is “grounded” from it. And this morning, I had to ground him again.

My little boy has a habit of putting things in his mouth and apparently, eating some of them. When I got the Wii, I didn’t know anything about what I needed or anything so I asked a salesman at Best Buy and he was great. We got the “fancy” controller covers that are designed to make it harder to drop or let go of the controllers when you use them.

Well, my darling son, chewed on the plastic of the covers until they literally fell apart.

I broke down and went to Amazon and bought two new covers – a pink set (both controller and nunchuck) and a blue one.

This morning I got up to do my Wii Fit exercises and discovered he’s been chewing on the nunchuck cover. So, I confronted him and now he’s not allowed to play the Wii today.

Well, he got into his defensive, angry mode and told us that we (Beloved and I) are mean and we just don’t want him to play. Beloved told him that it is the result of his actions that he can’t have the game today.

Then he moved into what I call irrational argument phase. He told us then that “I guess I’m just a vampire who bites things.”

Sigh. I guess so.

We were getting ready for Mass and the Boy was dressed to go.

We have a wall in our dining room that is all mirrors. Don’t ask; it came that way.

Anyway, he walked into the dining room and said, “Let’s see. Do I look handsome or really handsome?”

Gotta love that boy.

When the Girl was little, she made up the names for her grandparents – Rugga and Bumpa. I guess a lot of kids do that. I have a friend who called her mother “Bimma.” When we were roommates and my mother called, she told me my Bimma called. I told her I don’t have a Bimma, she does!

Anyway, my son has started calling our guinea pig a perb, as in, “Oh, aren’t you a little perb??” He told me that “perb” is something that’s cute. Um, okay.

The Girl made up a word like that when she was little. She used “mudge” for what I would call a gray-peachy color, kinda like Caucasian skin tone. Anyway, we use “mudge” for that color now (and she’s 20). I figure we’ll start calling things “perbs” soon, too.