First Day of School

Here they are just out the door, full of from-scratch-pancakes they helped make that morning, still totally unsuspecting of the chaos ahead...

Some days are just like that

My brother told me once that nobody has bad days like I do. Maybe it's just Alexander and me (but I doubt it):

8:00 Get lost delivering my son to his class. Realize that his teacher has absolutely NO contact information for me what so ever. Copy phone numbers for him to keep in his pocket & leave four minutes later than planned.

8:15 The time I was *supposed* to headed West toward work, my car is inching East toward my daughter's new middle school. Or at least it's inching along until about...

8:20 My car is at a total standstill. All the streets around the her new school are packed full of cars going nowhere. I decide to take the first available parking spot and walk her the rest of the way to school. Mobs of children are everywhere, with minimal supervision. The woman who assured me that all children were closely supervised is nowhere in sight. I did see two, maybe even three school employees planted amongst the mad confusion. My daughter assures me that she will be fine & disappears into the masses (who have not yet been let into the building).

8:30 I am supposed to be arriving at work; instead I am almost back at my car.

8:45 I walk in 15 minutes late to the first meeting of the day & plop down in the first available seat - right next to my principal.

9:15 Several people have been getting up for coffee during the presentation & I decide to do the same. My cell phone (which is still innocently sitting right next to my principal & which I decided against turning off considering the total bedlam where I had just left my daughter) went off loudly just as I was spilling half a cup of coffee all over the table.

12:00 I finally finish eighteen cute little prayer booklets made for my cute little class. They're so stinkin' cute, in fact, that I hardly notice I have put the title upside down on every last cute little book.

12:30 One of my parents (also a staff member) takes the time to let me know that she will be complaining to the principal about our classroom policies (before I even make any).

3:00 Finally time to pick up my lil' darlin's. How was my son's day? "Fine. Except you bought me the wrong school supplies." He was the only third grader with a ($40) second grade school supply package, conveniently labeled in permanent marker the night before, so as to render it un-returnable.

3:45 Another fight through traffic and we are looking around for my daughter, who is nowhere to be found. Luckily I told her to call me if she didn't find me by...

4:00 My cell phone rings. I can't hear anything, but she manages to hear me yelling for her to go to the door of the main office. Here's how her day had gone:

• She got lost three times
• She was tardy two times
• She was put into a beginning sports class even though she has been doing the sport for over three years
• They had no schedule for her. She ended up waiting for half an hour in the library for them to find her one.
• She was transferred her away from her original homeroom where she knew one person to a new homeroom where she didn't know anyone.
  
• Her PE teacher was so mean she was scared to ask about the size SIXTEEN shorts they gave her (she wears an 8).
• She was NOT put in gifted and talented even though I turned in all her paperwork and she qualified.

9:30 I get a call from my co-teacher explaining that one day before school starts, the principal has decided our classroom needs to be totally rearranged, right down to where we store our manipulatives and which carpet can be used for circle time.

Some days are just like that...even in Australia.

Apparantly the novelty has worn off

Worn off of finding out what friends and relatives live or have lived in our current apartment complex, that is. Still, this was an interesting conversation with my 11 year old, especially considering that our city is one of the five largest in the US:

Me: "Guess what sweetie? One of the administrators in my new school..."
Her: Bored look followed by, "lives in our apartment complex?"

Me: "No, guess again."
Her: "Used to live in our apartment complex?"
Me: "No."

Her: "You saw her in the laundry room?"
Me: "Keep guessing!"

Her: "We sat next to her on an airplane?"
Me: "Guess again!"

Her: "She has bright red hair?"
Me: "Closer! It is something about her head."

Her: "She goes to my same orthodontist?"
Me: "No."
Her: "She works with my same orthodontist?"
Me: "No."
Her: "She *IS* my orthodontist?!?"

Me: "No. Give up?"
Her: "Yes."

Me: "Your great grandfather put in all the fillings in her teeth!"
Her: "That's weird!"

Uh huh!!

My living room looks like

a laundromat threw up in it...my kids got home from camp yesterday YAY!!!!! They both had a great time. Jared only managed to come home with about five items of clothing that weren't his but without a single one of the six towels I sent. Meanwhile I'm trying to find a home for the other 724 items only needed a couple times a year for camp.

The other big event of my day yesterday was divorce court. For all the fear I had of going, it turned out to be intensely, intensely...boring. Comic relief was at hand though, provided by our friendly neighborhood security guards.

Maybe I should watch more movies, but I was unprepared to go through a metal detector on the way in. As they searched through my purse in confusion I offered, "Could it be my pliers?" wondering if perhaps my all-purpose/leatherman type tool had caused the problem. Yes, they were sure that would have been it, but were unable to find the tool. "It's in that pocket." I offered, "But it's in there with..." Too late! Gruff looking security guard's hands are already brandishing my...ahem...feminine products. Luckily my good friend swiped them up quickly & deposited them in her purse (how'd *she* get through so easily?). "Oh well, if this is the worst this day has to offer, I'm off easy," I finally decided.

And while it was the only public humiliation I had to endure that day, it turned out not to be the end of the security road for my purse. They put it back through the machine only to show another item not allowed by the court. This time the guard was quick to find my screwdriver. Well?!? Doesn't everyone carry a screwdriver in her purse? By this time I believe even all three security guards were amused. What can I say? It was obvious that the boyscouts lost out when they refused to let me join back in '79.