By the way, I hit someone on a bike a couple weeks ago

Yup. Just as the title states.

I'm thankful for two things:

1) The girl I hit is OK.
2) It totally wasn't my fault.

I was driving Mina to school and was at the four way stop a few blocks from my house. I waited for my turn and, just as I let off the brake to go, I had a college coed on my hood. Not in a teenage boy fantasy Whitesnake video kind of way either.

It happened so fast. I seriously did not see her until she was right there splayed across the front end of my car.

She got right back up and started apologizing to me. I felt like an attempted murderess.

A witness across the street called 911 and they were there in like 3 minutes.

The cop was super nice and kept asking Mina if she was alright (she was).

Basically, the girl wasn't watching and didn't stop at the crosswalk before riding through. There was no way I could have stopped in time. The witness, the cop and even the girl all said it wasn't my fault.

I held it together until I had to call Jim at home and tell him he needed to give Audrey a ride to preschool. Then I started a lovely hysterical sob in front of Mina. And still, she held it together.

It took me a whole weekend to process the whole ordeal.

Monday I took my car in for an estimate on the damage. My car came away with some hefty scratches and a dent. I wasn't really going to do anything about it, but my insurance agent said I really should as this would seriously lower my trade in value.

TWELVE HUNDRED DOLLARS.

We're turning it into her parents' insurance. There's no way I would be able to get it fixed otherwise. Since the cop said it was her fault, her Mommy and Daddy get to pay for the fixin'.

Except that her Mom isn't being real forthcoming with the info. My agent said she's, and I quote, "being real North Shore cunty about it".

Apparently Mommy doesn't understand why we would "go to all this trouble on a 6 year old car".

HA!

Sorry I can't trade in my lease for the newest Jag every other year. Some of us have to drive older cars that they worked very hard to get paid off.

So Friday will be two weeks since the accident and I still haven't heard a word from their insurance. I can't really do anything about it until their person comes and does their own assessment of the damage.

Part of me thinks they might try and fight it. Can they do that?

More importantly, is there a possibility I can come away from this with a new car?

Why I have never been nor will I ever be a teacher

Mina's in first grade now.

For the most part, she loves it. Occasionally she comes home with "mean girl" tales (it's starts in kindergarten people, and it sucks ASS), but she's chugging along nonetheless.

Almost every night she has homework. We have a nice little routine going where she'll have a snack at the table and work on whatever her teacher sent home that day.

After seeing what she's supposed to do I tell her to work on it and I'll check it when she's done.

And herein lies the problem.

When I was pregnant with her, my first child, people would ask me what I was having. When I told them the baby was a girl some people would get all giddy and squishy about it.

"Oh, maybe she'll have red hair like you!"
"I bet you can't wait to do her hair all pretty!"
"I LOVE buying girl clothes--all that pink!"

And OK, maybe those things did cross my mind, but the thing I wanted most for my baby girl was for her to be smart.

I remember a conversation with a friend of mine during my pregnancy. When the words "Dougie Howser, MD" passed my lips, you would have thought I wished for my baby to be born with a tail (P.S. That thought also crossed my mind).

"But why would you want her to be a freak?!"

So maybe being a doctor at ten wasn't ever going to be in the cards (damn you Neil Patrick Harris or setting the bar so high), but was it too much to hope she would have a head up in the academic world?

I'm not saying Mina isn't bright. She's an amazing artist and comes up with fantastic stories which she illustrates herself. Socially, she's a firecracker and can make friends in an instant. She's the kid at the playground who'll have eight other kids playing underwater mermaid ninja adventure ten minutes after we get there.

The schoolwork however is another story.

I try to help her correct her homework, but the whole ordeal leaves me wanting to poke my eyes out with a No. 2 pencil. I get so frustrated. Didn't she JUST learn this at school? Didn't her teacher come up with some cute fancy way to help them remember how to make 17 cents a few different ways? Didn't we just read that same word a page ago?

It's like she's guessing most of the time or waiting to guess what I want her to say. She doesn't take her time and think it through. The "17 cents" homework sent me into fits. It's COUNTING for chrissake. I know very well she can count and add and what the different coins are worth.

I try to keep my utter lack of patience on the down low. I'm sure I'm not doing a very good job.

Thankfully Jim has much more patience than I and can come up with those cute fancy ways teachers have of helping students remember things.

I know I probably set an unreasonable set of expectations Mina's shoulders. Not all kids are going to "get" everything the first few times they are taught something. It doesn't help that she gets mad at herself (and wants to either give up or not try something at all) if she isn't good at it. My poor little Type A child.

I did that to her. It's OK. I can admit that. I didn't mean to, but it happened and now all I can do is try to fix it...

By letting her father help her with her homework for awhile.

She acts all tough but...

Exactly one week from today I will be sitting at O'Hare waiting on the first leg of my fabulous Italian getaway.

Why am I so freaked out?

I took the girls to the library yesterday and picked up a bunch of travel books to try and do some research into public transport and hotels.

When I get to Malpensa Airport in Milan, I need to find my way to Stazione Centrale and find a place to stash my luggage while I see the sights for the day. Then I need to get back to the station and catch a train to Venice where my cousin is meeting up with me.

I tried to make reservations to see The Last Supper, but there aren't any slots left for the day I'll be in Milan. I did find a few guided tours that say they stop there, so I guess I'm going to try that out.

I will have a cell phone my cousin sent me that will work over there, so I won't be completely on my own, but...

I'm kind of lost as far as finding my way.

A book can only tell you so much. I know how to read a map, but how will I know one piazza from another?

After a few days with my cousin in Venice and maybe Florence/Tuscany, I will on my own once again in Rome.

I'm thinking of doing budget hotels while I have a travel companion, and maybe splurging in Rome. Then I feel guilty for spending so much money on myself.

I need to be talked off the ledge.

Who's been to Italy and can give me some real life advice?

While I was out

A few weeks ago, we had an "incident".

To back up a little, Mina has a classmate that, from the time he joined their class late in the year, took a liking to her.

At first, she came home and told me that he always insisted on sitting next to her at lunch. They aren't allowed to tell anyone that they can't sit with them at her school (a good rule, in my opinion), so I told her to try and sit between her friends if she didn't want to sit next to him.

Next she came home and told me that he put his arm around her and called her "his woman". Yes, this is a kindergartener we're talking about. She said it bugged her, but she would tell him to leave her alone.

A few weeks later, he smacked her butt. Again, she assured me that she would tell him in no uncertain terms that he needs to leave her alone.

I asked her if she told a teacher or if a teacher saw this happen, and she said no to both.

I also asked her if she wanted me to talk to her teacher. She said she would handle it.

If you don't know Mina, let me assure you that she is no wall flower. The girl knows how to speak her mind. I trusted her when she told me that I didn't need to step in.

Then, a few weeks ago Mina and I were driving to a dinner out. She had earned a free pizza through the Book-It program, and I thought it would be nice if I took just her to celebrate her accomplishment.

On the way there, we were just chatting about nothing when she said, "Mama, during resting time at school, Eric hit me in the (private) parts."

All at once, I felt my face go hot and my heart sink into my stomach. A million things raced through my mind and I had to concentrate on driving like I've never had to before.

I again asked her if she told the teacher, and again she didn't say anything.

Then she said, "Don't worry Mama. He's my problem."

And that's when I felt like throwing up in my lap.

I turned around and told her that I was now his problem.


I wanted to storm the castle the next morning, but instead wrote an email to her teacher and principal. They got back to me almost immediately. I knew they would. I also knew that if I went there in person to discuss it I would have gotten overly emotional and that wasn't going to solve anything.

I won't go into the whole spiel of how they handled it, but they handled it to my approval. I was pretty impressed with how quickly they took care of the matter. They took my concerns very very seriously and it was dealt with immediately.

Since then I've come to find out that Eric has a less-than-favorable home life. Really, I already knew that from his behavior. It doesn't take a psychologist to figure that one out.


Yesterday when I walked Mina into school, Eric was already lined up. He started talking to me about how tomorrow was his last day. He was going to "bring in cupcakes and suckers and balloons and candy" for everyone.

I asked him if he was moving away and he told me that he was going to live in Chicago with his grandparents.

I didn't ask him why, but he was more than willing to share the reason: "Carol yells at me too much."

He told me Carol was his foster mom.

His foster mom yells at him too much, so now he is being uprooted to a whole other life to live with grandparents who, for whatever reason, didn't have him living with them in the first place.

I was never angry with Eric for what he did. I knew in my heart that he was only acting out. I hate that my kid was the target of his misguided affection. I hate that this kid may fall between the cracks in the Chicago Public School system, may grow up angry and lonely from being shuffled around in his formative years.

I don't know most of this kid's story, and I kind of wish I did. I feel for the little guy.

Never would I put anyone before my own children, but I still feel like he deserves what every kid deserves: a loving home to live in and people who care about him.

As for Mina, she seems just fine. Every once in a while Jim or I will ask her if anyone "bothered" her at school today. Aside from the usual mean older kids on the playground saying stupid shit to the little kids, she's fine.

Eric brought in cookies and juice today. Eric told Mina that that's all Carol would let him bring.

Not that that's nothing, but I could see how excited he was to tell me about his big plans for today. I know. I'm being melodramatic. I've become quite a softy in my old age.

Bottom line is, someone failed him. I hope his grandparents can pick up the slack.

After this, I promise to stop talking about it

Guess who's never ever going back to Awanas?

She had fun. I knew she would. That's how "they" get you. She even came home with candy. Fun Dip to be exact (Lik-em-Aid for all you oldsters like me).

After she brushed her teeth and got into her pajamas, I laid down next to her to talk about how it went.

Right away she tells me that "if you're good, you get to spend forever with your family up in heaven. If you're bad you go down to the hot lava".

Those fuckers got that into my kid's head in two short hours.

Then she said "And you put it in your mouth and then it's in you."

(I about had a heart attack. "WHAT is in you, Mina?!")

"Like Jesus is in you and sticks to your heart"

(Again with the palpatations.)

"Like the candy they gave us."

(Coronary over, but blood pressure still high)

I didn't go into this blind. Having grown up with Fundie parents, I knew what we were getting ourselves into letting her go to this. I just didn't think they'd pull out the "big guns" the very first night!

So, I started gently with the fact that Mommy and Daddy don't necessarily agree with what those people said. Sometimes people believe different things and that's alright.

I asked her if she thought there really was a pit of hot lava waiting for the "bad people", and she thought about it for a second before deciding that both we and "they" were right.

In her six year old mind, this is a distinct possibility. I tried to tell her that what she chose to believe is up to her, but that Mommy and Daddy don't choose to believe what "they" said.

I told her that people can be good and nice and do good things for others and not go to church--that sometimes people are nice just for the sake of being nice and not to avoid this bubbling pit of iniquity.

I told her that it makes some people feel better in their hearts to believe in heaven and hell, and that's alright but Mommy and Daddy don't.

She looked like she was really thinking about it, but she was pretty tired, so who knows.

I'm going to go ahead and assume that Bethany's Mom will now invite Jim and I to go to church. That's how this works. Get the kid all fired up, then go after the parents. I may be willing to let Mina explore other avenues, but honey I've done my time and that book has been closed and put away on my end.

I actually do hope that we get invited so I can be honest with Bethany's Mom. She seems to genuinely like me. We get along and have had a few laughs together over this and that. I hope that when the proverbial ball drops, I will have somehow shattered her (assumed) preconception of Atheists.

Or maybe she will shun my ass.

She'd better invest in some kneepads for all the praying she will be doing for my everlasting soul.

Awanas Update

First, thanks to those that responded in the other post. All valid points and much appreciated.

Second, we decided to let her go. Once.

I had to call Bethany's Mom to see what she could bring to the class Valentine's Day party this week, and she brought up how much Bethany is "dying to bring Mina to Awanas".

It's tonight and meets from 6:15 until 8:15. Mina is usually dead asleep by 8:15 every night, so I made sure to make it very clear that this wasn't going to be a regular thing, but "we'd love to have Bethany over for a playdate anytime".

Turns out tonight is "Bring a Friend" night down at Awanas HQ. Hmmm....

I really didn't want to let her go because I was trying to avoid the "Mommy and Daddy are godless heathens" discussion for a later date. Now, I am letting her go so we can have that discussion.

I've even got a nice analogy all planned out.

Dearest Mina,

You know how when we go to ice cream store and you always get vanilla, but Audrey always gets chocolate? It's a choice you make for yourselves.

Audrey wouldn't try to cram a big bowlful of chocolate ice cream down your gullet day after day until you decide you suddenly love it.

In turn, you aren't going to ring her doorbell in the middle of the day when she's trying to take a nap and try to force her to eat vanilla.

There are so many flavors of ice cream out there and everyone has their own personal favorite. Who are we to judge who's flavor tastes better for each individual?

I used to love ice cream until I got older and developed a touch of lactose intolerance. Now when I eat it, it makes me feel gassy and uncomfortable.

Kind of like Jesus.

Love,
Mama


I'll let you all know how it goes.

Sleeping with one eye open

Conversation with my 3 1/2 year old during bedtime.

Audrey: Mama, could you scratch my back?

Me: Sure honey.

Audrey: Where's my alligator toy?

Me: Right here.

Audrey: It's alligator's bedtime too.

Me: Is he going to sleep in bed with you?

Audrey: Uh huh. Put him by my feet. And in the morning, him will eat some food.

Me: Oh yeah? What do alligators eat?

Audrey: People.

I don't wanna...

Mina came home from school on Friday begging me to join Awanas.

Just fucking shoot me now.

If you've read a post of mine here and there, you would know by now I am not what one would call "religious". Pretty much the polar opposite if we're going to split hairs here.

At the beginning of the school year, the school sent home a flier about an informational meeting for Girl Scouts. When I asked Mina if she was interested, she looked at me as if I had offered a steaming pile of shit for dinner.

"No way, Mama. They make you potty in the woods!"

Um...huh?

I guess she thinks the Girl Scouts are some kind of hippie commune living off the land or perhaps some sort of militia. Who knows where she gets this stuff.

I want to tell her that Awanas is basically just Girl Scouts sprinkled liberally with jesusdust, but that would probably only make her want to go more.

Mina told me that Bethany does Awanas, and Bethany is her "very best friend" so NATURALLY Mina wants to do it too. I know you can't always pick who your kid wants to hang with, but why oh why did my kid have to pick to most jesus-y kid in her class to latch onto?

Jim and I are so torn on this. On the one hand, we don't want to keep her from making her own decisions in this arena. On the other, I don't want Mina coming home with a hundred plastic fetuses and a mailng list.

Thoughts?

Huh?

I woke up at 3am this morning to find I had taken off my shirt in my sleep.

I guess I was hot.

Oops

This morning, I "adjusted" the garage door.

My car sat out all night on New Year's Eve so we would have room in the garage for the smokers in attendance. We got a good bit of snow that night, so last night I asked him to bring the car back into the garage. I assumed he would get all the snow off first. Nope.

This is how it looked last night:





When I went to back my car out of the garage this morning to warm it up, I couldn't see out the back window and failed to remember that I had only opened the door halfway when I went out there to smoke a cigarette earlier.

I hate when I do stupid shit like that.

It's not just that I dented the bottom of the door (it's not even that bad). It's more about the fact that Jim now has free reign to give me shit, and there's not a goddamned thing I can do about it...except wait until he does something equally as stupid.

I think they get it from their Dad

While I was cleaning up from making cookies yesterday afternoon, my children managed to tie their butts together.

Mina took a string belt off of one of her dresses and tied one end to the crotch of her underwear and the other to the crotch of her sister's underwear.

After freeing them, Mina shared some of her inner thoughts with me.

"Mama if I was a zombie, I would feast on your brain."

They really are good girls, bright girls and not prone to these types of things often. When they do get on a roll however, it's pretty much a wealth of hilarity.

The other night at dinner, Mina told me that she decided she loved Alex in addition to Matthew R.

"Well," I told her, "You can't marry both Matthew and Alex. You'll have to choose between them."

"No Mama," (eyeroll), "I"ll marry Matthew R. and Alex will be my boyfriend!"

Kind of makes me want to eat some pussy and have an abortion just to spite them

A friend forwarded this to me. You've probably seen it by now but just in case, here you go:


http://view.break.com/278059 - Watch more free videos



It goes without saying that the last bit breaks my heart into a million pieces. Hate breeding hate. My skin is crawling. Lovely.

I have to wonder what the upside down Canadian flag has anything to do with the song. Does God only hate Canada? I thought he hated the whole world.

And really, if we are doomed to the everlasting pits of hell anyway, why are they bothering to tell us. Isn't it too late to save our heathen souls?

I need a hug

The world's abuzz with the news of another Spears baby. Big whoop. I've got a bigger scoop.

Mina's getting married.

She informed me of the impending nuptials as we walked to the car after school today.

I should have known something was up when I saw her hanging out next to him after school the other day. She wouldn't leave until he gave her a piece of gum, and she seemed a little too giddy over it.

It all starts with gum, doesn't it?

His name is Matthew R., and they are planning way ahead. It seems they want to marry each other when "they are bigger". It was discussed and agreed upon at recess.

Someone get me a fucking valium because I am so not ready for this.

Mina told me that her friend Caeli (gawd, I hate the "unique" spellings some parents come up with) is going to marry Hunter as well--and they've kissed.

KISSED! In Kindergarten! What.the.fuck?

Mina denies any lip smacking, and she'd better not be lying.

I'm not exaggerating when I say that just a week ago Mina was telling me that she doesn't ever want to get married and plans on adopting a bunch of babies that I apparently will help her raise.

How did this happen? They are SIX years old.

Tomorrow is the big "Holiday" party in their classroom. I plan on giving this Matthew R. the once over.

I suppose I need to check out my future son-in-law. I hope he has nice teeth.

Adventures in Womanhood

I was going to write about my trip to the ER on Sunday night.

I was going to tell you all about how my uterus decided to hate me and bring forth a tsunami of wrongness.

I was going to tell you about my amazingly kick ass friend, Rachel, who drove me to the ER and sat with me watching Snapped, waiting several hours for the nurses and doctor to come in and check me out.

I was even going to tell you about the twelve year old-looking "man" who walked in and scared me half to death by making me think he was my doctor (he was the insurance guy--WHEW!).

But I won't. No one wants to read about that.

Instead, I'll share the video below (stolen from Project Rungay). If you watch Project Runway, you'll appreciate it. If not...well, it's fantastic anyway.

My kid is weird

Why, with a whole couch, two chairs and two ottomans to choose from, does my six year old insist on sitting/laying on the coffee table?

My head hurts

Overheard in the kitchen while Mina was drawing pictures before dinner:

"I'm so glad Jesus invented erasers so I could get rid of the nasty stuff."

Is it just me?

Lasr night I checked my gmail account and all was well and good until I tried to reply to an email. Suddenly, I was "timed out" and had to "sign in again" even though it still said I was signed in.

Now I can't even access my gmail inbox at all. When I type the address in, all I get is some ask.com search results page. When I click on the gmail link, I get an error page.

Forgive my computer illiteracy. Seriously, I embarass myself sometimes. But what the holyballsfuck is going on here?

It's starting to piss me off a little.

All the credit, none of the blame

I went to my first parent-teacher conference today.

Well, I guess there were a couple in preschool, but this to me counted as the first really real one, now that Mina is in kindergarten.

I'm not sure what I expected. OK, I do know. I expected to hear how awesome my kid is and how smart and friendly she is.

Mostly what I got were things she needs to work on or know by the end of the year. I was fishing too, saying things like, "Mina seems to have adjusted to all day school really well" and, "She's really enjoying school". All I got in return was a, "Oh, good" and the ol' nod/smile combo.

Don't get me wrong. I like her teacher. She's a seasoned pro. So seasoned in fact that one of the newer kindergarten teachers had to transfer a "problem" student into my kid's class knowing our gal could handle him.

I think I got spoiled at those preschool teacher meetings where they did tell me how great my kid was. I guess I just like hearing nice things about my offspring (duh), from someone not related to me, because I can pretend their good behavior and social skills are all of my doing.

I suppose I do have something to do with how well my girls are turning out, but mostly I'm trying like hell to make sure they don't end up with my neuroses.