Friday, September 26, 2008

6:30-7:30am

*Any random weeknday morning*

6:30am - Faith's phone alarm goes off. We both ignore it.

6:36am - Hall light turns on, light shuffling in the hallway begins.

6:38am - 1st Amanda/Ellie wakeup call. Response: "Okaaaahhughhhmkamephjffffjuh!"

6:42am - Faith sits up, stares into the darkness for a full minute, then heads to the bathroom to get ready.

6:45am - 2nd Amanda/Ellie wakeup call, met by muffled, disgruntled "I'm UP"-s. Except that they're not.

6:46am - Faith returns to the room to brush her hair, search in the darkness for her shoes and backpack, put on said shoes, then trip her way out the door.

6:47am - Faith returns for her forgotten backpack and/or belt.

6:49am - Liz decides that she can't go back to sleep and stumbles drunkenly to the bathroom to pee.

6:49:30sec - Someone bangs on the bathroom door because they need the bathroom RIGHT NOW. Jeezum.

6:50am - Faith heads downstairs for her morning spoon of peanut butter and 20 minutes of vacant staring at the TV as part of her mysterious "wake up" ritual. Disturb her at your own risk.

6:51am - Wake up call #3: "I AM up!" - from underneath the blankets.

6:53am - Ninja cat makes his morning appearance, opening the door with his ninja skills and leading Liz on a five-minute chase (in which she knocks over half the crap on the floor) to scare him back out of the room.

6:55am - Wake up call #4: "I've BEEN UP FOR 20 MINUTES GEEZ" - still from underneath the blankets.

6:56am - Random stomping and mysterious banging noises begin to happen. Liz, having just freed herself of Ninja Cat's morning attack, buries herself further underneath her blankets in a futile attempt to block out angsty teenage noise.

6:57am - First fight over the bathroom: "I was in there first, just because I LEFT FOR FIVE MINUTES does NOT give you the right to go in the bathroom and get your clothes!"*

6:58am - Angry door slams added into the mix of banging and stomping.

6:59am - Person 1 Yelling for random lost item, Person 2 reminding Person 1 of another item they may need, Person 2 yelling back that they have that item thankyouverymuch and Person 1 should worry about themselves, and Random Parent yelling at them to stop the yelling. Because some people are trying to sleep! (Some people, not me of course)

7:05am - Someone makes the mistake of talking to Faith (who comes only second to my mother in my family's coveted Most Disgruntled Morning Person award). We all pay dearly.

7:07am - *bang* *yell* *stomp* *bang*bang*bang* "WHERE'S MY CHAPEL SHIRT?!" *stomp*stomp* *louder yell* *bang* *doorslam*

7:08am - Ninja Cat and/or Goopy tries to re-enter the room, usually via bodyslam, giving a couple of dispirited yowls of frustration because I have cleverly locked them out.

7:09am - Second fight over the bathroom: "Mom, tell her not to stand so close to me! I can feel her breathing on me, it's disgusting!"

7:12am - Just when Liz is about to doze off, more banging and stomping ensues in what can only be part of a daily "Who can make the biggest dent in the wall with their backpack full of bricks" contest. Outside of monster truck racing in the kitchen, I really don't understand how four kids make that much noise. And I'm a teacher - I know from noisy kids. Or possibly I'm a little more sensitive to noise at seven in the morning.

7:14am - Liz sighs, briefly fantasizes about her own apartment, and turns the fan up to HIGH.

7:15am - The time they are supposed to leave.

7:18am - Walking like normal people Racing like newly branded cattle up and down the stairs for retrieving random items/yelling at sibling purposes.

7:20am - Shotgun calling and resulting argument/slamming doors.

7:21am - Garage door goes up. Dogs have a seizure.

7:23am - Someone loudly runs back into the house for a forgotten something, delaying the leave time some more. Hey, it's not like school starts on a schedule or something!

7:28am - What time they actually leave.

7:29am - Garage door goes down. Dogs have even louder seizure.

7:30am - (When no one else is home) Gizmo and Buddy appear outside my door, whining because their Momma left them. Boo freaking hoo. Sorry, 7:30am is too early for me to be sympathetic, especially since nothing I do (even letting them climb into my bed) appeases them. And how do they know I'm even in my room? Freaky.

This is why I have zero qualms about picking the kids up in the afternoon, since Aunt Celia, God bless her, has morning duty. The mornings, as you can tell, are a mess - and not the hot kind.

And to think - when I start working (which can be any day now, Houston County Schools) I'll get to take a more active participation in the fracas! My morning cheerfulness is sure to make the getting-out-the-door all the better for everyone (yeah, I can't even type that with a straight face) My plan is to be up and ready far before 6:45am, if at all possible. Or at least be done with the bathroom, because I'm not fighting middle schoolers for hair-straightening time. Mostly because I'll lose.


* = Note: All quotes were taken from real life.

Song/Video of the Moment - Diner by Martin Sexton. Set to Scrubs dancing montage. Because I love montages, Scrubs, and this song. I'm going to make a family video to this song one day.

Quote of the Moment - "Waddya doin...building a fort?" Faith, watching me dig piles of blankets out of my bed, which is sadly really is resembling a fort. I need place to put my crap, I can't help it! Yeah, I'm a 23 year old college grad, living in a fort. It's the dream! But hey, it's a free fort!

Text Message of the Moment (2:23am) - "Sorry it's late, but it's September and Mom has turned the fireplace on. I had to tell someone." - Nick

Picture of the Moment:

Ooo look at Wrigley Field in all the pretty champagne!

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Disclaimer from the world's Goodest Edumucator

You know what's awesomer than awesome?

Carlos Zambrano doesn't care about my comma splices - he just won the NL Central!


The Cubs winning the NL Central TWO YEARS IN A ROW! And Kerry Wood getting the save! And LaRussa and the Deadbirds getting to watch it all happen! And me still being able to make my own schedule so I can be in TN with my mother IF the Cubs should happen to make it to the World Series.

What's not so awesome?

Non-matching verb tenses, run-on sentences, spelling mistakes, punctuation errors. Also sentence fragments. Of which there are. Many. In this blog. As well as much errorz off grammar of all kinds their r in evrywear. I tend to write how I think/speak, particularly when I'm re-telling a story. I also edit and add things in without always re-reading to make sure it makes sense. There's a reason why I have exactly zero interest in teaching English. Ask my mom about me and comma splices sometime. We're BFFs. And no, it's not comma splices and I. Sometimes it IS proper to say "me and ____" or "____ and me". It's also okay now to start sentences with 'and' - which is good as I do that a lot too. Seriously, I think the grammar nerds of the world held a conference and voted on it or something.

Because I am a teacher, and therefore held to a higher standard when it comes to grammar (which I suppose is fair) I feel the need to make this disclaimer:

I hereby apologize for all grammar mistakes past, present, and future, that I make in this blog. Or in life

Feel free, by the way, to call them to my attention and even mock me for it - I'll probably roll my eyes and ignore it without changing it, just to bug the OCD viewers in the crowd. I DO try, honestly, but I'm not going to comb every rambling entry looking for misplaced apostrophes (my mom's other favorite grammar mistake of mine - as in, the difference between cat's and cats. Obvious enough to the average third grader, but not always to me). I care about grammar, I do. I make a real effort in my teaching to, you know, use and teach proper grammar. And please don't hold it against my college professors who taught us all better. One in particular, whom in a 4 week summar class made us spend 2 of those weeks doing nothing but anal grammar excercises.

Some of us grammartards are just unreachable.

My defensive grammar post aside - continue on with your regularly scheduled blogging!

I mean, everyone else is. Blogging, that is. I've apparently started something like a phenomenon in this house. I fully expect Gizmo to be blogging within the week (which would be hilarious...hmmmm).

Friday, September 12, 2008

White Ninja Kitty of Doooooooooooom

Because I know you're interested, I'll tell you about the two cats and two dogs also living here in this college dorm with us - Casper and Charlottte, the cats whose territory is being violated by the two dogs, Gizmo and Buddy.

Casper and Charlotte (whom I call Goopy because of her excessive amount of eye goop) are like the split personalities of a particularly crazy Calico I had named Lucy. Casper being the beautiful-but-evil side, and Goopy being the fat-confused-following-you-around-meowing-because-she-can't-remember-where-her-food-dish-is side. I'm pretty sure there is a pretty-to-crazy cat ratio - the prettier, the crazier. Casper is very pretty, with long white hair and some light apricot coloring on his face and tail, and therefore also very crazy. When you first see him your instinct is to reach out and pet his beautiful, fluffy fur. Sometimes Casper lets you pet him. Sometimes he claws your hand until it bleeds. It's a little game he plays.


Faith and I have taken to calling Casper "White Ninja Kitty" for his ability to open doors, hide behind curtains, and just generally skulk and slink around the house like his entire life is one big spy mission. He also likes to perch up high and look down at his prey with his crazy eyes. And wake you up by opening your door at 6am, running under your bed and around the room, refusing to leave.

Waking up to a giant cat shadow cast upon the wall is actually pretty frightening (or else I'm just easily startled). And you can't go back to sleep knowing that he's hiding somewhere in the room, ready to pounce on your head as you sleep, and you can't pick him up and throw him set him out of the room like a normal cat because otherwise your arm ends up looking like this (on a related note, don't google 'arm cuts' or 'shredded arm' unless you have a strong constitution).

Casper's only redeeming quality besides being pretty (and, you know, a ninja) is that he has brought out a discernible personality in Buddy - albeit not a very good one. Casper and Buddy are both Alpha's and mortal enemies who break out into fights whenever they are within 20 feet of each other. Ninja Kitty vs. Buddy the Wonderless Suburban House Dog? I don't need to tell you wins and who ends up hiding behind Gizmo. Speaking of El Gizmo (half Mountain Feist, half ferret), his strategy is to avoid or ignore the cats altogether - he's used to other small dogs, and I think that's what he thinks they are. Just as well, since both cats could eat him for breakfast.

This entire entry makes me feel like not only do I really, REALLY need a job, but this is one of the first steps in becoming a Crazy Cat Lady.

Oh and check out this site and discover -
What your name be if you were Sarah Palin's child

I don't care where you fall on the political spectrum, that's just good fun.

Love,
Drill Swollen Palin

---------------------------------
Picture of the Moment:

Best dog ever

Quote of the Moment: "Hey ya'll this chip looks like Georgia" - Ellie, starting a 15 minute conversation and comparison of all the nacho chips on the table and what state they looked like. And biting parts off of chips to make them look like certain states if they didn't meet the criteria.

Song of the Moment: "Strawberry Swing" by Coldplay

Phrase of the Moment: "Accio Jesus!" in en email to my mother, describing a terrific guest pastor we had that reminded me of an elderly, African-American pastor version of Dumbledore. What? He had a beard and a commanding presence and deliberate articulation about him that made me picture him whipping out a wand, pointing it to the sky and shouting "Accio Jesus!". That would be pretty sweet, actually.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Snarking, parking, and overturned garbage cans (There's no place like home)

Because it's always funny!
Picture of the Moment: (for Dad)
Phrase of the Moment: “Mullet Fantasia”
Song of the Moment: “I’m not coming to your party girl” by 3Oh!3 - best sung while staggering home after a long movie and an even longer adventure trying to GET to the movie.
Quote of the Moment: "Clearly, piracy is our only option"

(I'll normally put this ^^^ at the bottom, but for today... it's here.)

Wee my first blog entry. Yay for shamelessly copying Rachel! I even stole her layout theme. The Dots are awesome. Someday I'll HTML this mofo and put up my own banner and layout and junk.

I've actually wanted to start a blog for a long time, but felt my boring life wasn't really worth relaying. Since I have recently relocated to “Middle-Middle Central Georgia” (actual quote from the pastor at my new church) and into a busy house full of many bloggable adventures, I feel that the time has finally come for me to join the blogger nation.

To get started, here is the first conclusion that I’ve reached about life in Warner-Robbins : Snarking everything and anything on TV is apparently an acquired taste, much like freeform jazz and coffee.

Can you imagine living in a place where people simply sit and watch the TV while NOT having the urge to shameless mock say, the badly dressed local news broadcasters, or scream obscenities that would make a grown man cry at the baseball game? Merely observing the evening’s news with nary a sarcastic comment, eye roll, or a “It‘s a GIVER” shout-out every time a morbidly obese woman appears on screen? How does one watch Jeopardy and not yell out the right answer, purposefully wrong answer, a sarcastic answer, an obscene answer in Spanish, or a "!#$%* you and your mother, Trebek!"?

Mystery Science Theater 3000-esque mocking is not appreciated everywhere, sad to say. I mean I watched (against my will, I need to add) Secret Life of the American Teenager - its like 7th Heaven, only worse - a show ripe with mocking opportunity, only to have my “witty observations” (“OMG Skanky McSlut’s has Daddy issues - News at 11!”) go unnoticed and un-replied to. How can a sane person get through 10 minutes of anything on ABCFamily or the Disney Channel without commenting on the clothes, the dialogue, the plot, the scenery, the writing, the directing, the commercials, and the characters?

It’s been a difficult adjustment.

My second conclusion: parking “between the lines” is for losers. When you drive a truck the size of a small tank, making your own parking spots is the way to go

What led me to my conclusion was my experience picking up my cousins from school. The school they go to is small, but large enough to have long outgrown it’s little parking lot. Most schools have a sane, organized picking-up and dropping off arrangement - or at the very least some kind of loosely formed line. At this school, "picking up the kids" more closely resembles a battle-to-the-death Thunderdome competition for the best spot to flag down little Kayleeighey or Greyer and herd them into the air-conditioned safety of Momma's SUV. It begins about 20 minutes before school lets out when the SUV's and MiniVans being to descend, ready to stake their claim on the prime parking spots - and woe to you if you get there a mere 10 minutes before the bell rings, it's the back row of doom (and an extra 5-10 minutes waiting for the 'line' to move) for you!

Okay it's not THAT bad, just awfully crowded and confusing for me to navigate. I'm sure within a week I'll be mowing down other drivers and cutting off people with the authority driving a large truck entails me to. Most parents just park and wait, some take matters into their own hands and brave the line going up to the school sidewalk. I definitely take the park-and-wait approach.

Anyway, my first time picking up the kids I first weaved in and out of the parking lot in the opposite direction of those painted arrows (much to the annoyance of the impatientally waiting moms) only to end up somehow back out on the main road. I cost myself a precious 10 minutes in that adventure, something I quickly learned from. I managed to get turned around and back in the lot in the right direction and felt a small victory - there was still an open spot left! Surely, God must be on my side. I had, after all, even managed to find the school without incident ( i.e. getting horribly lost, but don’t worry, that part comes later). In my excitement to claim the spot, I misgauged the angle needed to wedge the tank in-between a mini-van and a SUV (in a spot barely big enough for my Sunfire), resulting in 10 more wasted minutes backing in and out of the spot at 1 inch increments, causing a traffic back-up that turned the parking lot into this

Okay I exaggerate, but only slightly.

The uber-quaffed mom in the SUV to my left gave me a very nice, mom-patented God-Bless-Her-She’s-Trying smile and wave for my trouble. But still, lesson learned. I now only park when there is at least one open spot in any direction around me. The lot still makes me nervous though, the students take their precious time meandering in and out and around all the moving cars with a level of that-car-will-totally-stop-in-time-so-I'm-free-to-walk-in-front-of-it-ness I’ve only ever seen on college campuses. Why aren’t middle schoolers taller than a truck bed? Gah.

My third and final conclusion: Living in this house with four teenagers is turning into the college dorm experience I never had. (True, Ellie is technically only 11 but I don’t have to tell anyone who knows her that she’s been going on 16 for about five years now. ).

Fighting with the roommate for a limited amount of space? Check. Mounds of unwashed clothes growing by the day? Check. One bathroom for 7 people? Check. Going to bed whenever you feel like it? Check. Writing sad, rambling emails to parents complaining of homesickness and lack of funds? Check. Copious amounts of junk food and raman noodles? Check. Wasting precious hours of your youth on video games? Major check. All that’s missing are kegs of beer and guys my own age (you know, for the keg-tapping and men-using).

The classes that would be offered here would be like, Rockband 101, Advanced Shotgun Calling, Intro to Houston Lake Rd, and The Theory and Practice of The Art of Walking Right Past A Garbage Can Overturned By The Dogs While Pretending To Have Suddenly Been Stricken Blind So that Liz Has To Pick Up The Entire Mess Herself. There are a couple of students working on their thesis in that subject.

Things I also miss (in no particular order): Computers with mouses, a living room with a TV, being able to shower whenever I want (and have it not be a complicated, five-step procedure of timers, nozzles, and squigee-ing though I do enjoy the large stall and all the options, it's all fancy), not hearing dogs bark everytime a door opens, my family, and Diet Pepsi.

So basically all of this makes me feel that although I like it here just fine, there really is no place like home.

*clicks shoes together three times*

:)

PS. Sorry this is so long - I've had all this in my system for days and wanted to get it out. Trust me, I don't have the attention span for entries this long either.