Go To The Head of the Class

Last week I attended Open House…my last ever, as Bri is now a High School Senior. When I think about it ….I’ve attended many open houses…3 x 13 (including kindergarten)= 39 open houses. Oh, I forgot about the other open houses I’ve been to. But those are different …they serve booze at those…only cookies and coffee at the school. Definitely not the same.

So I followed Bri’s class schedule, attended some interesting classes and met some nice teachers. One thing I wondered as I changed classes…Was I ever this smart?

But I did get to show off my stuff…in Mr. Jones’ physics class. After the teacher went through the litany of what the kids would be learning and the grading polices, etc. etc. He asked if the parents had questions. There was silence…no one had questions. My God, it’s physics…who is really interested??

Then one parent in the group asked, “This doesn’t pertain to physics…but could you please tell me…What does that sentence written on the bottom left-hand side of your blackboard mean?” The statement read: MR. JONES IS THE SHIZNAY. Mr. Jones answered, “I don’t know. A former student was just in here and wrote it on the board. Does anyone here know what that means?”

All the parents in the class shook their head…no…never heard of it…but I did. Hey, I wasn’t embarrassed to show-off my expert command of the English language. So I raised my hand…and volunteered, “Mr. Jones, that is actually a very positive comment to you. The student that wrote it thinks you’re great…cool. They like you.”

I am sure that I impressed the teacher with the breadth and depth of my knowledge. “Go to the head of the class, Kat.” Okay, he didn’t say that. I bet he wanted to… but he probably didn’t want me to look like Teacher’s Pet and have everyone give me the evil eye.

I was glad to help him out…he just needed a little vocab. lesson from Kat. He’s a physics teacher so what the heck does he know? Now that I’m over-the-hill and not in school…my education comes from my kids.

Thanks to them I am muy intelligente….a regular walking dictionary and thesaurus. My kids are…da bomb, shiznit, wicked, shizzle, sick, hot, bitchin, the shit, phat, saweeet…and in case you are like Mr. Jones and aren’t down with the lingo…they are THE GREATEST.

No Trade

My most favorite time I’ve ever spent as a mom…was on the floor. It was the time my kids were little and there was nowhere we HAD to go...nowhere we HAD to be. The hectic life of homework, sports, lessons and practices had not started yet….and we were free to while-away the afternoons.

We would have picnics in the family room with square plastic Tupperware plates in different colors…pink for Chelsea, blue for Colin…and numerous Cheerios for baby Bri. A tablecloth spread out on the floor with my sweet baby right smack in the middle…not walking, and in no hurry…happy to watch her brother and sister go crazy. Lunch was always the same…peanut butter sandwiches, cut in triangles, no-crusts…a must. How fortunate I was that I could spend the afternoons…on the floor. My rolly polly baby on my stomach, pig piles, balancing Big C and Colinboy on my hands and knees, playing bicycle with our feet….Rolling around with the kids.

I wasn’t getting much done….but I didn’t care. Laundry was building, dishes were piling, floors were sticking. It wasn’t like I could see into the future…see how happy I would be I spent so much time rolling around with them. I wasn’t that analytical or clairvoyant. Maybe I wished I was still a kid…maybe I was lazy. But mostly it was just fun.

Some things you would never trade, for all the tea in China. Time on the floor was one of them.

But No!

When you reach a certain age…they tell you, you gotta go. You don’t want to go. “PLEASE don’t make me go. I’ll do anything but THAT!” After putting up a stink for a few months you realize…you must succumb to the shittiest procedure ever invented. There are no butts about it. Folks… It’s time for a colonoscopy.

Before I go further, I have to say one thing. The word colonoscopy is pronounced Colon–oscopy. Not….Colin-oscopy. For some reason whenever PaulA says the word, he pronounces it Colinoscopy. I have to remind him that we didn’t name our son after an internal organ…especially one so dirty. And then Sistersledge made the same mistake!!! I would return the favor…but Natascopy makes absolutely no sense and she’s way too cute.

Before I go further again…into the dark bowels of this story…they say the prep is the worse part. And in the end…the prep is the worse part. The prepping really poops you out. You are required to drink a disgusting liquid, they try to disguise as lemon-lime, and then you spend the rest of the night running to the bathroom….I just wanted to sleep.

And eventually you do…the best sleep you ever had. Only problem is they don’t sell this stuff at Walgreens in Aisle 5. The anesthesiologist puts an IV in your arm and delivers a swift knock-out punch. The only way you can get this quality of sleep again….is to sign up for another Colonoscopy. (See how easy it is to get the word correct, PaulA?!)

I’ll end here…and I’ll spare you the gory asspects and the behind the scenes details. I just thought you might want to be informed, by getting the poop on the Colonoscopy procedure. But I admit, when you get to the bottom line…this crap just isn’t funny.

Sensibility

Why is it when kids are playing with a ball or something hard, inevitably I will get hit …sometimes in the arm or leg….but usually in the head?

I have been hit in the head by footballs, basketballs, tennis balls…you name it. I admit, I have never been hit in the head with a bowling ball…although I’ve hit (myself) with one in the leg. When I was a novice figure skater teetering on ice skates….hockey players leaving the ice whipped the puck across the ice and knocked me off my skates…that was before helmets.

I’ve heard of the law of averages…..but this doesn’t add up. I am definitely above-average on head hits, so I have out-averaged the law. One thing for sure…the mode of this median is mean.

And then there’s Donnelly’s Law. Excuse me, Murphy’s Law (different Irishman)… “If anything can go wrong, it will.” I am always the person the ball seeks out. I could be sitting in a circle with 5 other people and the ball chooses me. Why is that?

I’m not exactly sure, but I’m guessing I look like a person who needs some sense knocked into…a little sensibility. Especially judging from the sounds of this blog.

To regurgitate…I mean, reiterate…last week I spied 3 young boys throwing the lax ball in a friendly game of catch on the beach. I decided they were far enough away from me…so I proceeded to doze in my chair. Whack…their lax ball hit the side of my head. “Oh, so sorry lady, we didn’t mean to hit you.”

“That’s okay kids. Thanks to you…my blogs might make a little more sense from now on.”

One Year

I have been blogging for an entire year...that’s 365 days. And in blogworld …that’s almost an eternity. September 13, 2007 was the first day that I ditched housework and began polluting the blog waves. If you dare/care to read back…you can check my first blog from a year ago, which is under the Blog Archive for 2007.

Sometimes I ask myself: “Kat, Why after a year are you still doing this? Why Kat??? Tell me why!!! (Geez, I guess I have a lot of inner turmoil.) Should you really be spending your time with your butt at a computer…when you should be running that butt down a winding lane...or moving that butt around the house, cleaning up the joint? Plus, who the heck is even reading your blogs? Maybe if you got yourself some more relatives…you would have a few more readers."

One year is a good benchmark…a good time to sit back and reflect on the 200+ blogs I have written, and think about whether I should continue this blogging thing…

After careful consideration, I have reached an answer to my own question. I ask that you read the following little ditty to the Paul McCartney song, “Silly Love Songs.” And if you aren’t familiar with the tune…Get familiar already.

You think that people would have had enough of silly bloggers
I look around me and I see, it could be so.
Some people wanna fill the world with silly musings
And what’s wrong with that?
I’d like to know, ‘cause here I go….AGAIN!
I’ll Blog On, I’ll Blog On.

That…as weird as it sounds…is my answer.

My Complete Favorite

As far as movies go….my favorites are the oldies….especially the ones I watched as a kid. The Wizard of Oz with those flying monkeys and Munchkinland was genius. My all time favorite is “The Sound of Music” and the sound of the music. Okay, I’m redundant. These movies were extra special because they were run on TV once a year. Not like today, when parents can pop in a movie anytime, to get a little peace and quiet.

When our kids were little, I bought Disney videos….like every parent in America. Heck, if I didn’t, I would have been accused of child neglect. So we ended up with quite an extensive library… Little Mermaid, Snow White, Aladdin, Toy Story, Beauty and the Beast… on and on. I used them like every parent in America…to get a little peace and quiet.

In all my 100 years of living, there has been only one movie I have purchased for myself. And that is Jerry Maguire. I never cared much for Tom Cruise before…but I loved him in this movie. But now he’s off my list, especially after his ape routine on Oprah’s couch. Sorry Tommy.

For some reason Jerry Maguire just hit me….hard…and in a good way. I am a sucker for the love and devotion theme. I loved it when Renee Zellweger’s Dorothy stood by her man, no matter the cost and the sweet, lovable relationship Cuba “Show-Me-the-Money” Gooding’s character had with his wife.

Granted, there is some very corny stuff in that film. Especially the line “You had me at Hello.” Well, “Hello”….that is so corny. If PaulA said to me… “Kat, you had me at hello.”…I would laugh my ass off. But if PaulA said to me, “Kat, you…complete me.”

….I would melt like butta. Okay, I'm also a sucker for the corny stuff.

Never Forget

I remember September 11th seven years ago…it was the most beautiful September day. The sky was an amazing blue, the sun was warm, and no clouds were to be seen. The morning had an autumn feel….the temperature was cool and the air was crisp. I remember the feeling of being so alive. It didn’t seem possible that on that day, the most horrendous disaster could occur.

Today marks the seventh anniversary of the September 11th attacks and we remember all who lost their lives that day. We remember the 2,974 innocent men, women and children who were going about their daily lives that beautiful September morning…to have it all suddenly taken away. We remember the heroes that sacrificed their lives to save others. We honor the firefighters, the police, and emergency workers who worked to save lives. We extend our thoughts and prayers to the families and friends of those who were lost. We honor the men and women in the Armed Forces who work to protect our freedom.

However you decide to commemorate September 11th is your choice. Whether a special ceremony, moment of silence, prayer, or flag flown…it’s your personal choice. We are fortunate to live in a country where we have the freedom of personal choice.

Just remember….Never forget