Back To School
My plan for this week was to go to the gym every single morning since I am now a free woman. I went yesterday and it felt great. I was all set to walk my dog with my friend Lisa B. this morning (she didn't know I was going to bring the dog) when I felt a searing pain in the foot. Upon investigation I found that the skin on my burn blister has somehow torn itself off. Now I have a wound of open flesh on my foot. The wound is not large, lest I sound overly dramatic and you are imagining an E.R. type scenario, but it hurts and is bloody. I've decided not to give myself second degree burns any more. The thing is, I can't put any shoes over that exposed flesh. So no exercise today. My hope is that if I keep it exposed to the air all day it will form a scab and tomorrow I can resume my exercise efforts.
I want to fall to my knees with fists in the air, a la Marlon Brando, and yell into the torrid air "Why...Why...Why do these things keep happening to me??!!!" Unfortunately this would require touching my burn to the floor which would be a stupid thing to do. I'll have to save my sweaty drama for later. I could go down to the tracks to enact my rage at life's Dickensian twists...I'll think about it while my burn scabs up.
Wouldn't this make great dinner conversation?
I had to fill out a survey on Max to give to his new teacher who I would totally have had a crush on if I was seven years old and was her student. She's about fifteen years old, stylish in the way that teachers are urged not to be, has raven hair, and seems pretty nice. The purpose of the survey is to help her get to know your child, his medical issues, his strengths, his challenges, etc. I find these surveys interesting. I find it interesting that I have difficulty describing my child to a stranger in a reserved and brief manner.
Under medical issues I had to mention the bloody noses because in all likelihood Miss Danielson will be sending Max to the nurse almost every day in a mess of bloody tissues. Maybe if he had little ones it wouldn't be disruptive, but he has gushers. It's very distracting to try and teach kids about conjunctions when someone is bleeding out of his nose like a gunshot victim.
It's ironic that the one thing I didn't manage to procure on his supplies list was tissue. Something he will use far more of than any other child in that classroom. Don't worry, I got some to bring today.
That's my boy! A total bleeder. So what else can I say about my child that is relevant to the teacher in the context in which she will get to know my interesting offspring? Should I tell her that he is not interested in joining groups because there aren't any groups in which he can share his love for collecting interesting trash like flattened dried out dead possums? Should she know that he has attitude problems? One of the questions asks what I hope my child will learn this year. How strange a question is that? I hope he will learn what a second grader is supposed to learn, obviously.
I also hope he will learn not to threaten suicide anymore when he's feeling bad about himself. All the things I hope he will learn don't have anything to do with school. He will learn in school whatever he is supposed to learn because even though he hates homework, he's super smart. All my hopes for my son are based around my desire for him to learn how to cope with the world that he lives in and the fact that he is always going to be a little different. Or a lot different, depending on who you're talking to.
Anything special about Max? Yes. His mother takes brain medication and has been known to alienate other parents through her not-so-secret life as a writer and she doesn't play games and refuses to join the PTA for very compelling reasons of her own. His father is a wacky artist who should take brain medication, but likes to live on the emotional edge. Max has a cat with FIV. He doesn't have a family clambering around him to shower him with attention as many kids do. They've all been kind of busy doing their own thing and they all live too far away to want to just hang with him anyway. He feels it and it bothers him. They're all crazy too, incidentally. So he lives in a very adult populated world. He wants to build a time portal, that's pretty special.
Other than that, he's just like any other kid.
It just got harder to feed the kid. Since the night before last he claims that everything tastes bad, that it, in fact, all tastes like coffee. He claims Philip let him taste coffee years ago (since he's only six and a half I have to laugh at this) and that's how he knows what coffee tastes like. He thinks there's something wrong with him and demanded that if everything still tastes like coffee today, we must take him to the doctor. Off the list of things to consume: ice water (pretty much the only beverage he drinks regularly), crackers, corn dogs, and...well, that's pretty much all he eats now anyway. Shit. Is there a disease for which the leading symptom is a coffee taste in the mouth?
He also made me comb his hair for lice before he would get in bed. I keep telling him he has a slightly dry scalp which is why his head is sometimes itchy. He appears to be a little freaked out by the whole idea of lice, not that I blame him. I fear the day there is an outbreak at his school.
The main computer is still broken. I really need it fixed. There's information I can't get to from my laptop. Information and pictures. It's at the shop, so hopefully we'll have it fixed soon.
So I guess it's time to bag my wound and take a shower. What should I do with my day? Should I ride out to my favorite farm and get a bunch of eggplants and tomatoes? Or should I make a couple of comforter covers using all my flat sheets as the back? We don't use flat sheets, I hear this is the European way of making the bed. We simply use the fitted sheet and duvet covers. So every time I buy a sheet set, I have unused flat sheets. It just so happens that duvet covers are really expensive and I can't afford to buy any. But my current ones are starting to get super shabby. (Hey, could that be the next permutation of "Shabby Chic"? Should I start a store and call it "Super Shabby"? Or maybe "Angelina's Super Shabby Emporium"?)
I made Max a duvet cover using two flat sheets. It worked great and was really easy. So my plan is to make a top out of great cotton prints and rick rack, and then sew it to a flat sheet. Perfect! I just can't decide if I should spend my day preserving food or doing a sewing project for my house. Maybe it will come to me over eggs and toast.
This is Super Shabby signing off...
Happy back to school everyone!!
I want to fall to my knees with fists in the air, a la Marlon Brando, and yell into the torrid air "Why...Why...Why do these things keep happening to me??!!!" Unfortunately this would require touching my burn to the floor which would be a stupid thing to do. I'll have to save my sweaty drama for later. I could go down to the tracks to enact my rage at life's Dickensian twists...I'll think about it while my burn scabs up.
Wouldn't this make great dinner conversation?
I had to fill out a survey on Max to give to his new teacher who I would totally have had a crush on if I was seven years old and was her student. She's about fifteen years old, stylish in the way that teachers are urged not to be, has raven hair, and seems pretty nice. The purpose of the survey is to help her get to know your child, his medical issues, his strengths, his challenges, etc. I find these surveys interesting. I find it interesting that I have difficulty describing my child to a stranger in a reserved and brief manner.
Under medical issues I had to mention the bloody noses because in all likelihood Miss Danielson will be sending Max to the nurse almost every day in a mess of bloody tissues. Maybe if he had little ones it wouldn't be disruptive, but he has gushers. It's very distracting to try and teach kids about conjunctions when someone is bleeding out of his nose like a gunshot victim.
It's ironic that the one thing I didn't manage to procure on his supplies list was tissue. Something he will use far more of than any other child in that classroom. Don't worry, I got some to bring today.
That's my boy! A total bleeder. So what else can I say about my child that is relevant to the teacher in the context in which she will get to know my interesting offspring? Should I tell her that he is not interested in joining groups because there aren't any groups in which he can share his love for collecting interesting trash like flattened dried out dead possums? Should she know that he has attitude problems? One of the questions asks what I hope my child will learn this year. How strange a question is that? I hope he will learn what a second grader is supposed to learn, obviously.
I also hope he will learn not to threaten suicide anymore when he's feeling bad about himself. All the things I hope he will learn don't have anything to do with school. He will learn in school whatever he is supposed to learn because even though he hates homework, he's super smart. All my hopes for my son are based around my desire for him to learn how to cope with the world that he lives in and the fact that he is always going to be a little different. Or a lot different, depending on who you're talking to.
Anything special about Max? Yes. His mother takes brain medication and has been known to alienate other parents through her not-so-secret life as a writer and she doesn't play games and refuses to join the PTA for very compelling reasons of her own. His father is a wacky artist who should take brain medication, but likes to live on the emotional edge. Max has a cat with FIV. He doesn't have a family clambering around him to shower him with attention as many kids do. They've all been kind of busy doing their own thing and they all live too far away to want to just hang with him anyway. He feels it and it bothers him. They're all crazy too, incidentally. So he lives in a very adult populated world. He wants to build a time portal, that's pretty special.
Other than that, he's just like any other kid.
It just got harder to feed the kid. Since the night before last he claims that everything tastes bad, that it, in fact, all tastes like coffee. He claims Philip let him taste coffee years ago (since he's only six and a half I have to laugh at this) and that's how he knows what coffee tastes like. He thinks there's something wrong with him and demanded that if everything still tastes like coffee today, we must take him to the doctor. Off the list of things to consume: ice water (pretty much the only beverage he drinks regularly), crackers, corn dogs, and...well, that's pretty much all he eats now anyway. Shit. Is there a disease for which the leading symptom is a coffee taste in the mouth?
He also made me comb his hair for lice before he would get in bed. I keep telling him he has a slightly dry scalp which is why his head is sometimes itchy. He appears to be a little freaked out by the whole idea of lice, not that I blame him. I fear the day there is an outbreak at his school.
The main computer is still broken. I really need it fixed. There's information I can't get to from my laptop. Information and pictures. It's at the shop, so hopefully we'll have it fixed soon.
So I guess it's time to bag my wound and take a shower. What should I do with my day? Should I ride out to my favorite farm and get a bunch of eggplants and tomatoes? Or should I make a couple of comforter covers using all my flat sheets as the back? We don't use flat sheets, I hear this is the European way of making the bed. We simply use the fitted sheet and duvet covers. So every time I buy a sheet set, I have unused flat sheets. It just so happens that duvet covers are really expensive and I can't afford to buy any. But my current ones are starting to get super shabby. (Hey, could that be the next permutation of "Shabby Chic"? Should I start a store and call it "Super Shabby"? Or maybe "Angelina's Super Shabby Emporium"?)
I made Max a duvet cover using two flat sheets. It worked great and was really easy. So my plan is to make a top out of great cotton prints and rick rack, and then sew it to a flat sheet. Perfect! I just can't decide if I should spend my day preserving food or doing a sewing project for my house. Maybe it will come to me over eggs and toast.
This is Super Shabby signing off...
Happy back to school everyone!!
Labels: open wounds, parenting, projects, school, teachers, the kid