I told you so...

I tried to tell you. I am terrible about keeping the blog up. It's not that I don't have tons to say, it's just that I suffer from a horrible time management condition. I try, but it just never seems like I can get it all done. Maybe I suffer from the myth that I am indeed Superman's lumpy twin sister, maybe it's because I lack motivation...maybe just maybe I have too much to do.
I've been trying to get all my school stuff done. I want to be able to press the magic button on my laptop and enter my grades early so that I can spend my workday moving rooms. Weeeee. I like my room. It feels like mine. I hate having to share. And I hate it when the kids come in after we have all sat there eating our lovely school lunches (three weeks of school, three times we have been served hot dogs) and comment on how the room smells.
But anyway.
I promise to try and keep up better. Really, and I will try to care just a little more.

And blah...

I don't feel good. I feel blah and yucky and I can't talk about a whisper. My husband commented "how very tragic." I am believing he meant it in a "I'm sorry you are ailing my fairest love" sort of way and not in a "Thank God I'll get to go right to sleep instead of listening to you politely way." Maybe I'll just infect him.

Well yuck...

I survived the first day back at school. It was very strangely quiet this morning in the hall. The little darlings just saved it up till they got to class. I really am not liking eight graders and certain sixth graders. If I survive this year and we don't move* please oh please* I want to beg to have an advanced class and a everybody else class for eight grade. I will have had the ones I choose for it for the third year. I just feel like it would better serve them to have a more advanced class.
Saw Eragon tonight. I adored the dragon. And I like Jeremy Irons. Call me plebian but I liked the movie. I feel more than a little ill however from the popcorn and pizza. Or maybe it was the disgusting hot dog from lunch. I have got to remember to take the lunch I make from home.

Trauma revisited

So, I wrote about the salad issue. About an hour later the bug issue came to it's ugly anntenaed head. From the tv room we hear a scream, then panicked footsteps to the computer room. There was giant cockroach. Given the way the oldest was acting, it was armed and demanding salad and a dining companion. Her loving father and I said grab a shoe and kill it. This was met with numerous grumbled and whined responses. She finally guilted her little sister into playing mighty bug killer. It was a loving show of sisterly love and compassion...until the youngest brought the decedent to show her daddy. The oldest climbed off her chair and onto the table while screaming. It was very dramatic, some how though I doubt it was good parenting that I laughed.

Oh Trauma

Yes I know I missed yesterday. It wasn't like I didn't think about my new found need to share my life with the two people who might by chance read this...I just didn't do it. Yesterday was the last day of winter break. *Sigh* While I am ready for everyone to go back to school and work, I am not ready to go back. I need a few days of alone time.
I will confess I am not a great housekeeper and when I get a cleaning jones on, that's what I want to do, clean. I can't be very productive with everyone here. Give me some everyone gone, heavy metal on the radio, an empty vacuum and wipes and I am a tornado of energy and industry. Okay maybe I exaggerate, but I do prefer it just me as I try to clean.
Yesterday as I sat down to try and get some school stuff done or as I tried to sort the million baskets of stacked laundry someone or something came up. That and my family's obsessive need to eat three meals a day. Ordinarily if I had said go make a sandwich I would have been able to complete my task and go clean up the mess of sandwich making ecstasy later, but no, not yesterday, nothing would suit unless it was made by me. The oldest watched me make a lovely warm turkey...salad...wrap thingie, she commented on all the ingredients, saw it go in the pan to warm, saw the lettuce be washed and arranged to be the wrappers, saw the yumminess be put on the lettuce and rolled up. I made it pretty on the plate even. Now before I go any further let me just add that the husband had turkey, cheese and crackers. The youngest opted for this too after deciding pizza flavored fish shaped crackers were not quite all she had hoped for. I did ask three times if the oldest wanted to have that too-the turkey combo not the fish snacks. So she sat down to eat. One bite and there was a copious amount of tears. Apparently I hate her because I made her eat salad. You try convincing her that salad is a loose term that does not always involve lettuce. Okay lettuce as a wrapper, but there was no horrible tomatoes or other veggies. The child would live on processed chicken nuggets, chicken sandwiches with mayo *shudder* and ketchup (because as we all know ketchup is NOT made of horribly terrible tomatoes). Somehow suggesting that she make herself a peanut butter sandwich caused hysterics.
But as I see by the clock it's time to get ready for work...I'll continue later because the bug trauma is even more fun than salad trauma. I don't want to go...just the thought makes me want to cry. It's not that I don't love parts of it and some of the students...it's just everything else.