Worst day EVER!

Date: June 27th
Where: School
Who: Jarod

This morning, I mistakenly told Jarod that he could wear pajamas to school today. I also told him he could wear his flip flops. He seemed really happy with this idea.

At 8:15 A.M, I get a phone call. Jarod is in tears. He wants me to bring his regular shoes. I asked if he was in trouble for wearing the flip flops and he said, "I think a little bit." Not very easy to get a straight answer out of him. I bring him his shoes and run off to help with Emma's Kindergarten "graduation" party in her classroom.

Later, at lunch time, I see Jarod peeking into the lunchroom with a forlorn look on his sad, sad face. I motion with my hand for him to come in, and he won't. I have to go outside and drag him inside. "What's wrong? What are you doing?" I demand.

"I don't want to be seen in my pajamas. Today is not pajama day."

Cold terror raced in my veins. In my mind, I try to recall what it said on this weeks itinerary. It mentioned something about blankets and sleeping bags. And I have seen several other classes and grades wearing pajamas and must have assumed today was his pajama day, without verifying it. Oh, shit. What have I done?

Once the lunch line is gone, I take Jarod to his classroom and find his teacher. She asked if there was anything wrong, because of Jarod's llama face. I asked if it was pajama day and to my horror she confirmed the worst...Today is NOT pajama day. And Jarod got teased for it. Either the kids made fun of him or gave him shit, but he was obviously distressed about the whole ordeal.

Every bad moment I had in my illustrious (HA) school years came flooding back and I just felt terrible, as if I was Jarod and those kids were fucking with me. I started to cry, but tried to stifle it, because my co-workers will not understand. I think Jarod has gotten through four years of school without too much drama and now this happens. And the fact that he can't articulate his thoughts, really distresses and frustrates me and those around who love him.

I just hope the fourth grade will not be a stuggle for him.....

Scared straight

Here is some more Mom of the Year material for you.

Mind you, I do know how STUPID and DANGEROUS this is, so no lectures, please!

I was taking Emma to school, running late as usual. The car my brother let me borrow has a dead battery (don't understand, ran perfectly the night before!). Luckily, Eddie didn't take the Kia, so I ran back inside to get that key, muttering about the dead battery in the Honda. I ran back outside and hopped into the blazing hot Kia. I race out of the driveway and and down the street. As I round a corner going towards the school, a Riverside Sheriff patrol car passes me going the other direction. I glance to see if he is paying attention to me....Lo, and behold, he whips that black & white around.

"No! No! No! No!," I bemoan. I don't have my seatbelt on, Emma is in the front seat with me, WITHOUT her seat belt, much less a booster seat. I don't have my purse or ID or nothing. I'm not even wearing a bra.

I look at the deputy in the rearview mirror and he appears to be running my plate (thank God my plate is confidential). I glance at Emma and then I look back up and he is not in the car anymore. "Where'd he go?" I look back at Emma to see if he is coming up the passenger side, but he is not there. I turn back around to my window and he appears.

"Do you know why I stopped you?" he asks. I hate that question. Why ask a stupid question? Duh! Thankfully, I am NOT a smartass when it comes to authority (face to face--behind closed doors is another issue). I say nothing and jerk my thumb at Emma in the passenger seat.

Emma is cowering in her seat with her fingers jammed in her ears. The deputy tells Emma to uncover her ears and listen. He tells her that she needs to wear her seatbelt. Emma immediately starts bawling. "I forgot!" she wails.

The deputy tells her not to cry and that she needs to wear her seatbelt for her safety. Then, He. Lets. Us. Go. I said, "Thank you, Sir" to his retreating back. He didn't lecture me, didn't lecture Emma...I guess making Emma cry was satisfactory to him.

I pulled away from the curb slowly. We get to Emma's school barely in time. I told her to have a good day and to hurry so she won't be late. She turned back around and clung to my neck and cried some more. I told her it was okay and she needed to get to class. She ran off with tears streaming down her face.

Okay, since the deputy didn't lecture me, I don't want none of you to do it!

Mom of the Year material

I overslept this morning.

Emma comes into my bed at 6:45 and asks if she could wake up Jarod. I said, "Sure!" with dreams of Jarod getting ready and I rolled back over. An hour later I can hear Emma hollering, "Jarod isn't ready yet! Dominic just came to the door!"

SHIT! I spring out of bed and help Jarod get ready, shove a donut and his medicine in his mouth and send him out the door. His ride had already left, so I grabbed a pair of shorts and ran (right, walked briskly) for the car. Jarod was five minutes late and had to go to the office to get a pass to class.

Good parenting skills at their finest.

"What About Love?"

“......maybe the whole love thing is just a grown-up version of Santa Claus just a myth we've been fed since childhood so we keep buying magazines and joining clubs and doing therapy and watching movies with hit pop songs played over love montages all in this pathetic attempt to explain why our love Santa keeps getting caught in the chimney.”
~Kate McKay from the movie Kate & Leopold

Recently, I was talking with my favorite sister-in-law about marriage. I said, "Marriage is not about love."
She replied vehemently, "Oh, NO WAY! It is not about love at all."

We both agreed it was about being able to put up with somebody for the rest of your life.

ah, boo

Jarod's race was today. He qualified last month in his pack's Pinewood Derby to race in the DISTRICT Pinewood Derby.

Dad did his magic (added some extra weight) and Jarod raced against six other "Wolves." Jarod came in 6th out out of seven. At first, Jarod thought he was in 3rd place based on his heat with another scout. I told him he didn't come 3rd, but 6th. He asked if I he gets to take a trophy home and I flatly told him no. He got sad and wiped tears from his eyes. Then a few moments later he asked if he could have a hotdog.

I don't think Jarod realizes the impact of his placement in the race. I believe the only thing he cared about was taking home a trophy, regardless of his place. He wanted the free toy from the Cracker Jack box.