So, yesterday's telling off of the Alpha Blondie didn't get through. Man, she's either really slow on the uptake or just plain stubborn. I'm leaning towards slow on the uptake at this point, in part because I'm so pissed off.
Three little girls spent the night together last night. They had fun. The Howler came home this morning, happy happy happy.
No sooner were they all outside than the Howler was sad, with hurt feelings, because Blondie made fun of her for wearing her helmet while riding her bike. Apparently, Blondie decided that the Howler's hair was "ugly, and messy."
Blondie wanted to know why the Howler was sitting out, not riding bikes anymore. She asked, "What's wrong?" I told her, "YOUR MOUTH." She didn't want details. I think she knew what was coming.
A short while later, the Howler came home. One of the boys decided that "Hide from the Howler" would be a fun game, so they all played it. The Howler came home, almost in tears. No sooner had I gotten her calmed down, than the doorbell rang. Guess who.
The Howler told them they were iggernt. Blondie, simpleton that she is, asked what the Howler meant by that. The Howler told her "because you really are mean to me."
I stepped around the corner and gave them hell for treating the Howler the way they do.
Blondie, getting dumber by the second, says, "Yeah, well, she hit me!"
I asked, "And what, exactly, did you do to her first?"
No response.
"Well? What was it? Tell me, because we all know you did something to her first."
"I played the game...But it wasn't my choice!"
"You CHOSE to play the stupid game, didn't you? THAT was your BAD CHOICE. Would you like it if everyone played 'hide from Blondie'? Would you want everyone to make fun of you? How would you like it if every time someone who was your friend came to your house they called you FAT, STUPID or UGLY? How about if they pushed and hit you--then ran and told on you when you fought back? Would you want that person for a friend? NO? Well, we don't need that kind of friend here, either. You come over to my house, to play with her toys so you can trash my house. You chase my cats, you don't follow my rules. You play in my yard. All so you can make fun of her and hurt her feelings. Go find someone else to bully and beat up on."
The Howler and I went into the house.
The Howler has gone over to talk with them some, and to ride her bike some, but she's not desperate to play with them much.
My Girl and I are going to get ready and go to the park for a little while before I go to work. She wanted to bring them with her, and I refused. The Howler cried, and I told her that she deserves to be treated nicely and well by her friends. She deserves better than this.
The door bell just rang. It's Blondie, to apologize. I asked her if this was going to happen again. She shook her head no. I told her, "Yeah, I'm really really mad. We've gone through this how many times in how many days. I'm not putting up with it anymore."
The Howler accepted her apology. But I still won't let the little B* into my house. I'm still too mad.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
I'm an Evil Mom
And I don't care how *wrong* the bleeting hearts of the world find it!
Today, I did what I had hoped I wouldn't find necessary: I told the Howler to defend herself however she needed to against her "friend" Blondie.
We've spent the summer telling this child to NOT call people names (her fav for the Howler is "fat"), and to keep her hands--especially her fingernails--to herself. I'm tired of having Blondie run to me to tattle on the Howler when the Howler was REACTING to what Blondie has said or done to her.
I told the Howler that where Blondie is concerned, if and only if Blondie starts it, she is to return whatever favor Blondie is dishing out: if Blondie calls her fat, she is to call Blondie a name. If Blondie shoves or hits her, she is to shove or hit back.
Blondie's family isn't supporting her bad behavior, but time outs and being told off isn't helping. Hauling her bullying ass in to Grandma's house isn't stopping the bad behavior for more than one day. So, as I see it, the options are: The girl is very stubborn and a bully, OR, she's really really a slow learner. Guess which one I pick.
She's scratched every other girl in the neighborhood--claiming "it's an accident," even when she's gotten hauled in for the day before.
She's come to my house, and knocked the stuffing out of other children (usually her cousins) if they come to my house to play too, saying, "He's not allowed!"
No amount of telling her it's not nice, and explaining that if she doesn't like getting scratched, hit, called names, etc, then she shouldn't be doing it to others is even slowing it down. And I'll be dammed if I meet this child at the edge of the yard EVERY. DAY. and tell her off before the children even speak to each other. I'll also be dammed before I see the Howler bullied this way(and telling the Howler in front of Blondie that "a friend doesn't treat you this way!" doesn't stop it either.)
I had this problem with the Toad and the one neighbor boy. He would come over, and punch, kick, pinch, and scratch Toadwort, and sending home immediately did NOTHING to change the behavior. When I told Toady to do it back, the behavior stopped.
I have also recently had the pleasure of teaching the Howler to say "You're not the boss of me!" to Blondie...and I got to say it to her myself.
It's BS that I would need to tell a 6 year old, "You're not the boss of me!" It's BS that I have to constantly be on my toes around this child--because if I'm not, there's gonna be red marks and tears on my child.
Of course, after I told Blondie off today, everything was fine and dandy--no more problems.
God, I hate OPK.
Today, I did what I had hoped I wouldn't find necessary: I told the Howler to defend herself however she needed to against her "friend" Blondie.
We've spent the summer telling this child to NOT call people names (her fav for the Howler is "fat"), and to keep her hands--especially her fingernails--to herself. I'm tired of having Blondie run to me to tattle on the Howler when the Howler was REACTING to what Blondie has said or done to her.
I told the Howler that where Blondie is concerned, if and only if Blondie starts it, she is to return whatever favor Blondie is dishing out: if Blondie calls her fat, she is to call Blondie a name. If Blondie shoves or hits her, she is to shove or hit back.
Blondie's family isn't supporting her bad behavior, but time outs and being told off isn't helping. Hauling her bullying ass in to Grandma's house isn't stopping the bad behavior for more than one day. So, as I see it, the options are: The girl is very stubborn and a bully, OR, she's really really a slow learner. Guess which one I pick.
She's scratched every other girl in the neighborhood--claiming "it's an accident," even when she's gotten hauled in for the day before.
She's come to my house, and knocked the stuffing out of other children (usually her cousins) if they come to my house to play too, saying, "He's not allowed!"
No amount of telling her it's not nice, and explaining that if she doesn't like getting scratched, hit, called names, etc, then she shouldn't be doing it to others is even slowing it down. And I'll be dammed if I meet this child at the edge of the yard EVERY. DAY. and tell her off before the children even speak to each other. I'll also be dammed before I see the Howler bullied this way(and telling the Howler in front of Blondie that "a friend doesn't treat you this way!" doesn't stop it either.)
I had this problem with the Toad and the one neighbor boy. He would come over, and punch, kick, pinch, and scratch Toadwort, and sending home immediately did NOTHING to change the behavior. When I told Toady to do it back, the behavior stopped.
I have also recently had the pleasure of teaching the Howler to say "You're not the boss of me!" to Blondie...and I got to say it to her myself.
It's BS that I would need to tell a 6 year old, "You're not the boss of me!" It's BS that I have to constantly be on my toes around this child--because if I'm not, there's gonna be red marks and tears on my child.
Of course, after I told Blondie off today, everything was fine and dandy--no more problems.
God, I hate OPK.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Reality Check
Ahhh, one came in the mail for the Toad:
He said, of his own volition, that he would buy milk yesterday. Considering that he drinks 90% of the milk anyway, this is only fair since the Howler is not home.
And, yes, he absolutely of his own volition said, "I'll get milk while I'm out."
He did not get milk.
He did go out to lunch. He did go hang out with Stretch, one of his friends. He did sit in his room, hiding, before Stretch came here to spend the night. He had time to piss off his aunt (and she in turn returned the favor.)
He did not get milk.
I hid the PopTarts so that he would have, quite literally, nothing sugary sweet and vitamin fortified to start his day. Breakfast, being the most important meal of any day, cannot be missed, and it must consist of copious amounts of processed sugar.
MMMMMM. My healthy-healthy boy.
He did not look pleased when he informed me, this AM, that he didn't get milk yesterday, and there are no PopTarts.
Hee hee.
He had to shower, get dressed and go buy milk before he could start his day off properly.
Yeppers. Being a grown up stincks. But it stinks worse without milk.
He said, of his own volition, that he would buy milk yesterday. Considering that he drinks 90% of the milk anyway, this is only fair since the Howler is not home.
And, yes, he absolutely of his own volition said, "I'll get milk while I'm out."
He did not get milk.
He did go out to lunch. He did go hang out with Stretch, one of his friends. He did sit in his room, hiding, before Stretch came here to spend the night. He had time to piss off his aunt (and she in turn returned the favor.)
He did not get milk.
I hid the PopTarts so that he would have, quite literally, nothing sugary sweet and vitamin fortified to start his day. Breakfast, being the most important meal of any day, cannot be missed, and it must consist of copious amounts of processed sugar.
MMMMMM. My healthy-healthy boy.
He did not look pleased when he informed me, this AM, that he didn't get milk yesterday, and there are no PopTarts.
Hee hee.
He had to shower, get dressed and go buy milk before he could start his day off properly.
Yeppers. Being a grown up stincks. But it stinks worse without milk.
He'll Do It His Way...
Being a grown up sucks--and this is what the Toad is finding out. Unfortunately, it's something that he's been finding out, he just can't seem to remember the lesson beyond a day or three.
So, yesterday, he went to lunch with his Aunt (my sister) and afterwards, she spotted him looking up the classified ads for apartments. Seems the Toad's friend (whom he hasn't had much contact with for about 3 years) is getting discharged from the Navy, and he and his wife will be moving "back home."
Toad has decided to "help" them find a place to live--I assume he's looking because he's hoping, the economy being what it is, to also share that apartment. Roomies! My Sweetie nor I have been asked for our opinions, so we've kept our mouths shut.
Remember my mantra for the past year? It's "LET.GO." and I'm getting kind of good at it. Biting my tongue isn't easy--but I've been practicing, and it's not as hard as it used to be.
Anyway, my sister decided to give him what for...and not only did she slam his friend(s), she also managed to get a slam in there on me. She also spent time last night informing my husband what I loser I was, and that the Toad is JUST. LIKE. HIS. MOTHER. And IT'S. ALL. HIS. MOTHER'S FAULT. (Even my step dad stuck up for me--I was at work.)
First, I think the Toad is totally clueless about what "real life" is really like.
Second, I think this friend of his, being discharged on a medical something-or-other, is NOT going to have a job anytime soon.
Third, I've seen the Toad totally mis-manage his money, and I have absolutely NO intention of paying for his folly.
Fourth, my sister is an ass when it comes to "Poor Little Toadly." She don't get it the way my mother don't get it. (Sis actually asked me, "So, what, we're supposed to just let him fall on his face?") She didn't like my responses. I bit my tongue over her evaluation of my life--that's a fight for a different day.
What is it about "LET. GO." that these people don't get? And how arrogant are they that they believe that no one else in the whole wide world loves him like they do. And if I may channel my sister for just a minute: "Only *I* know what's best for him."
Did they learn nothing from me? These are the people who preach to me that my profanity precludes my being a good Christian. These are the people who blame ME because they've coddled, covered for, and built the beast that is now snapping off at them.
How much brain does it take to figure out that what they want for him is not necessarily what he wants for himself. He's already done an excellent job of proving that he prefers to do things his way--even if it is a hard, frustrating, demoralizing way to do it.
Somehow, in all of this, they've decided that, of course, this is AMERICA! It MUST be his MOTHER'S fault!
Great Googly Moogly! Yet, neither of these rocket scientists will have this conversation WITH me. Why? Because they both know I can PROVE that they contributed much more to the ugliness that is now the Toad than I have. (My biggest mistake was not putting a stop to their idiocy sooner--like back when he was 5.)
Ahhh,their bottom line? Because I am steadfast in my decision to "LET.GO." I most certainly do NOT love him. What they don't get is that I love him enough to actually let him go--and let him fail.
Let him have the *safety net* of a place to crawl home to--but that doesn't mean put my health, my sanity, my paycheck in the way of his determination to do it his way.
So, yesterday, he went to lunch with his Aunt (my sister) and afterwards, she spotted him looking up the classified ads for apartments. Seems the Toad's friend (whom he hasn't had much contact with for about 3 years) is getting discharged from the Navy, and he and his wife will be moving "back home."
Toad has decided to "help" them find a place to live--I assume he's looking because he's hoping, the economy being what it is, to also share that apartment. Roomies! My Sweetie nor I have been asked for our opinions, so we've kept our mouths shut.
Remember my mantra for the past year? It's "LET.GO." and I'm getting kind of good at it. Biting my tongue isn't easy--but I've been practicing, and it's not as hard as it used to be.
Anyway, my sister decided to give him what for...and not only did she slam his friend(s), she also managed to get a slam in there on me. She also spent time last night informing my husband what I loser I was, and that the Toad is JUST. LIKE. HIS. MOTHER. And IT'S. ALL. HIS. MOTHER'S FAULT. (Even my step dad stuck up for me--I was at work.)
First, I think the Toad is totally clueless about what "real life" is really like.
Second, I think this friend of his, being discharged on a medical something-or-other, is NOT going to have a job anytime soon.
Third, I've seen the Toad totally mis-manage his money, and I have absolutely NO intention of paying for his folly.
Fourth, my sister is an ass when it comes to "Poor Little Toadly." She don't get it the way my mother don't get it. (Sis actually asked me, "So, what, we're supposed to just let him fall on his face?") She didn't like my responses. I bit my tongue over her evaluation of my life--that's a fight for a different day.
What is it about "LET. GO." that these people don't get? And how arrogant are they that they believe that no one else in the whole wide world loves him like they do. And if I may channel my sister for just a minute: "Only *I* know what's best for him."
Did they learn nothing from me? These are the people who preach to me that my profanity precludes my being a good Christian. These are the people who blame ME because they've coddled, covered for, and built the beast that is now snapping off at them.
How much brain does it take to figure out that what they want for him is not necessarily what he wants for himself. He's already done an excellent job of proving that he prefers to do things his way--even if it is a hard, frustrating, demoralizing way to do it.
Somehow, in all of this, they've decided that, of course, this is AMERICA! It MUST be his MOTHER'S fault!
Great Googly Moogly! Yet, neither of these rocket scientists will have this conversation WITH me. Why? Because they both know I can PROVE that they contributed much more to the ugliness that is now the Toad than I have. (My biggest mistake was not putting a stop to their idiocy sooner--like back when he was 5.)
Ahhh,their bottom line? Because I am steadfast in my decision to "LET.GO." I most certainly do NOT love him. What they don't get is that I love him enough to actually let him go--and let him fail.
Let him have the *safety net* of a place to crawl home to--but that doesn't mean put my health, my sanity, my paycheck in the way of his determination to do it his way.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Oops! I Did It Again
The Howler left today for Grandma & Grandpa's. We met them slightly better than 1/2 way, as they were at a retreat over the weekend. (Remarkably enough, I've been at that castle in 1996. Didn't realize it until we'd actually gotten there.)
Anyway, she was happily going. Of course, with a double draw of Vacation Bible School and Tommy Too, what's not to love? And she'll only be there four days until we arrive.
To celebrate Grandpa's 80th birthday, there's a party. And of course, she's gotta be in on that action. It's probably not going to be what she expected, though.
She should sleep well tonight, as she was swimming at the neighbors from 10am until just-after-9pm. She came home several times throughout the day, and stayed just long enough to whine about something (not sure what as we quit listening as soon as the whine-tone starts!)
So, in four days, I'm off....but in the meantime, I get to torture a Toad. The Howler is not home (and therefore won't be traumatized by his screams for mercy.) Guess why? Here's a hint: instead of it costing us boo-coo bucks for cable, he's surfing it for free--with the potential to gum up the new computer.
OoOOOOooooOOOOOOooo. I can't wait to burn him with this.
Anyway, she was happily going. Of course, with a double draw of Vacation Bible School and Tommy Too, what's not to love? And she'll only be there four days until we arrive.
To celebrate Grandpa's 80th birthday, there's a party. And of course, she's gotta be in on that action. It's probably not going to be what she expected, though.
She should sleep well tonight, as she was swimming at the neighbors from 10am until just-after-9pm. She came home several times throughout the day, and stayed just long enough to whine about something (not sure what as we quit listening as soon as the whine-tone starts!)
So, in four days, I'm off....but in the meantime, I get to torture a Toad. The Howler is not home (and therefore won't be traumatized by his screams for mercy.) Guess why? Here's a hint: instead of it costing us boo-coo bucks for cable, he's surfing it for free--with the potential to gum up the new computer.
OoOOOOooooOOOOOOooo. I can't wait to burn him with this.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Another One of *Those* Posts
Okay, so I am mildly wrong about the Toad. He has made some effort to get in touch with this college--he's left a few messages, but he hasn't actually emailed addy on the PostIt notes he was given.
Maybe I'm crazy (if I am, it's not for this reason,) but I would think that those PostIts are considered *promotional* material, and that email would be the #1 way to get in touch with someone from their Continuing Ed department--at least it would be a person who would connect you to the person you needed, right?
I think the smell from his room is effecting MY brain now.
Maybe I'm crazy (if I am, it's not for this reason,) but I would think that those PostIts are considered *promotional* material, and that email would be the #1 way to get in touch with someone from their Continuing Ed department--at least it would be a person who would connect you to the person you needed, right?
I think the smell from his room is effecting MY brain now.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Slacker
The Toad has made very little effort towards getting his poop in a group to go to school. I'm not surprised, really, but I am disappointed.
I knew we'd be jinxed if we told anyone.
He hasn't cleaned up his room, either. It smells in there--and is dark and clammy. He is, however, going to work, even if he is unbearably jerkish when he's here.
This is how bad his room is: My Sweetie took a bottle of Febreeze in there, and doused the entire room two nights ago. Almost used an entire bottle. The smell died back--for a while. It's creeping up the ol' Scent-o-Meter again. It's been less than 72 hours!
Geez.
He needs a haircut, and he smells. I spent yesterday telling him how much he smelled--every time I walked past him.
The good news is that his grandmother is finally on our side--not that she would actually admit it, though.
When he announced that he registered for these classes, she looked at me--tear in her eye and all--and said, "Oh, you just don't know what it's been like!"
I looked at her and said, "Oh, NO. YOU don't know what it's REALLY been like." And she totally missed the point. Of course it's all about how worried SHE's been, and how devastating his assholishness has been for HER. Never mind those of us who LIVE with him, and BREATHE the smell, and clean up after him. Oh, NO. There's no way WE could possibly KNOW.
One Toad for SALE! Cheap! (I'll throw in his grandmother for free!)
I knew we'd be jinxed if we told anyone.
He hasn't cleaned up his room, either. It smells in there--and is dark and clammy. He is, however, going to work, even if he is unbearably jerkish when he's here.
This is how bad his room is: My Sweetie took a bottle of Febreeze in there, and doused the entire room two nights ago. Almost used an entire bottle. The smell died back--for a while. It's creeping up the ol' Scent-o-Meter again. It's been less than 72 hours!
Geez.
He needs a haircut, and he smells. I spent yesterday telling him how much he smelled--every time I walked past him.
The good news is that his grandmother is finally on our side--not that she would actually admit it, though.
When he announced that he registered for these classes, she looked at me--tear in her eye and all--and said, "Oh, you just don't know what it's been like!"
I looked at her and said, "Oh, NO. YOU don't know what it's REALLY been like." And she totally missed the point. Of course it's all about how worried SHE's been, and how devastating his assholishness has been for HER. Never mind those of us who LIVE with him, and BREATHE the smell, and clean up after him. Oh, NO. There's no way WE could possibly KNOW.
One Toad for SALE! Cheap! (I'll throw in his grandmother for free!)
The Worst of It
The Howler and Blondie seem to have established a One-Upmanship of despicable childhood arguement behavior.
And, worse, they keep running to me to report EVERY. BIT. OF. IT.
I hate it. I keep stressing that "if you wouldn't like it if someone did it to you..." but that's not getting through. (The Howler has mastered the appropriate use of "you're not the boss of me.") What makes it worse is that whatever Blondie does, the Howler does worse back.
The Howler is much better at owning up to her own nastiness than Blondie is. And they are human (not the demons I imagine them to be occasionally) because they always tell me their side in a way to make themselves look as innocent as possible.
It's annoying and nerve-wracking. Even the other neighborhood children scatter when they start on each other.
I'm getting tired of saying, "Learn to deal with this yourselves." and "Don't do it if you don't want it done to you."
*sigh* It's only July.
And, worse, they keep running to me to report EVERY. BIT. OF. IT.
I hate it. I keep stressing that "if you wouldn't like it if someone did it to you..." but that's not getting through. (The Howler has mastered the appropriate use of "you're not the boss of me.") What makes it worse is that whatever Blondie does, the Howler does worse back.
The Howler is much better at owning up to her own nastiness than Blondie is. And they are human (not the demons I imagine them to be occasionally) because they always tell me their side in a way to make themselves look as innocent as possible.
It's annoying and nerve-wracking. Even the other neighborhood children scatter when they start on each other.
I'm getting tired of saying, "Learn to deal with this yourselves." and "Don't do it if you don't want it done to you."
*sigh* It's only July.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Home Again, Home Again, Jiggedy Jigg
She's home! She finally came home!
All those phone calls, where she sounded soooo very sad, lost, and pathetic just made me miss her more.
Of course, she only spent about 30 minutes talking with us before racing off to get in the neighbor's pool. She came home for about 20 minutes to eat supper, only to race off again once she was done. When the pool was "closed" she (and a few other urchins) conned their way into another neighborhood pool...
She came back long enough to ask for snacks and drinks for her and the motley crew with her. They ate, then went running (and riding bikes) again.
They congregated at our house for some fireworks. Sparklers, if any one is wondering, is a cheap way to make them happy. (note to self: try and stock up!)
We told her that her one friend will be at her dad's house every weekend, starting now, so she's excited.
I see a long long winter with a gaggle of girls coming to my house for sleepovers. I'm already looking forward to New Year's. Seriously.
I must have missed her...or I am firmly on my way to dementia.
I could not get my sister's camera to download the pics, so you'll have to wait just a little while longer for those. Sorry!
All those phone calls, where she sounded soooo very sad, lost, and pathetic just made me miss her more.
Of course, she only spent about 30 minutes talking with us before racing off to get in the neighbor's pool. She came home for about 20 minutes to eat supper, only to race off again once she was done. When the pool was "closed" she (and a few other urchins) conned their way into another neighborhood pool...
She came back long enough to ask for snacks and drinks for her and the motley crew with her. They ate, then went running (and riding bikes) again.
They congregated at our house for some fireworks. Sparklers, if any one is wondering, is a cheap way to make them happy. (note to self: try and stock up!)
We told her that her one friend will be at her dad's house every weekend, starting now, so she's excited.
I see a long long winter with a gaggle of girls coming to my house for sleepovers. I'm already looking forward to New Year's. Seriously.
I must have missed her...or I am firmly on my way to dementia.
I could not get my sister's camera to download the pics, so you'll have to wait just a little while longer for those. Sorry!
Friday, July 4, 2008
Sparkling
Even though she's still in Baltimore, I thought some pics of the Howler enjoying sparklers would be fun.
Know what else is fun? Being a cute 6-year-old who is very excited about "horseys"--and going to Pimlico race track and ending up getting a brief tour of the place, talking with trainers, and petting a real live race horse.
Pics to follow when she gets home.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Sunday May Be Coming!
The Toad went to an Open House for a college yesterday. They are offering associate degrees through the local hospital. (Of course, those courses are in the medical field.)
He went. On his own. His grandmother was the one who pointed it out--and she basically left the rest of us out of the loop--finally. She's finally getting it.
Anyway, he left yesterday afternoon, about an hour and a half before the Open House was to start. We had no idea if he would really go or not (and in all honesty, I secretly hoped, but wasn't getting excited either way.)
He came home and had the information--and he had gotten answers to my questions. It's not like before--where he goes through the minimal motions to convince us he's serious.
Apparently, working at a fast food restaurant is hell. And he's decided that he doesn't like hell.
He understands he'll be continuing to work, and taking classes. He understands that I'm not paying for much (and even that doesn't start until AFTER he's completed--with GOOD grades--the first term.
Cross yer fingers--Sunday may definitely be coming soon (or at least sooner than I expected.) He's either truly ready to do something with his life, or he's gotten to be a much much better actor.
Time will tell.
He went. On his own. His grandmother was the one who pointed it out--and she basically left the rest of us out of the loop--finally. She's finally getting it.
Anyway, he left yesterday afternoon, about an hour and a half before the Open House was to start. We had no idea if he would really go or not (and in all honesty, I secretly hoped, but wasn't getting excited either way.)
He came home and had the information--and he had gotten answers to my questions. It's not like before--where he goes through the minimal motions to convince us he's serious.
Apparently, working at a fast food restaurant is hell. And he's decided that he doesn't like hell.
He understands he'll be continuing to work, and taking classes. He understands that I'm not paying for much (and even that doesn't start until AFTER he's completed--with GOOD grades--the first term.
Cross yer fingers--Sunday may definitely be coming soon (or at least sooner than I expected.) He's either truly ready to do something with his life, or he's gotten to be a much much better actor.
Time will tell.
I was Wrong
Write it down, people. I was wrong.
In my last post, I said that the Howler went to Fort McHenry yesterday. I was wrong. It was the Aquarium yesterday...and the Fort today.
Forgive me...and collect yer winnings, whoever had today in the pool.
In my last post, I said that the Howler went to Fort McHenry yesterday. I was wrong. It was the Aquarium yesterday...and the Fort today.
Forgive me...and collect yer winnings, whoever had today in the pool.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
I Miss You Daddy
The Howler left yesterday morning for Baltimore. My sister took her home with her for a few days so the two crazy things can bond.
My sister used to take the Toad with her (first to Erie, PA, and then later, to Baltimore) when he was younger.
Then she experienced what we live with--and his vacations with his aunt ended abruptly. LOL. We refer to it as "F.A.T" due to the message on our answering machine on their last trip together.
Anyway, I don't think the Howler understood, really, just how far away it was. She was tired from lack of sleep before they left: She fell asleep after 10pm Sunday night, and was up, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed at 5-freaking-AM Monday morning. And, if you're from Podunkville like we are, Baltimore is HUGE and can be overwhelming.
My poor baby was crying last night, "Daddy, I miss you." on the phone. She didn't want to talk to me. (I guess being the "bad cop" can have it's disadvantages.)
Daddy was sad, and worried. His baby girl was far away, and sad.
Last night they went to the Rainforest Cafe. The Howler, of course, fit right in! She loved it.
Today, they were going to go to Fort McHenry. (The Howler wanted to know if I knew Francis Scott Key.) Part of me is hoping to hear, but another part of me believes that if they do call, the Howler will be upset again.
I'm desperately hoping for some good pics of their adventures--which, of course, I will share.
My sister used to take the Toad with her (first to Erie, PA, and then later, to Baltimore) when he was younger.
Then she experienced what we live with--and his vacations with his aunt ended abruptly. LOL. We refer to it as "F.A.T" due to the message on our answering machine on their last trip together.
Anyway, I don't think the Howler understood, really, just how far away it was. She was tired from lack of sleep before they left: She fell asleep after 10pm Sunday night, and was up, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed at 5-freaking-AM Monday morning. And, if you're from Podunkville like we are, Baltimore is HUGE and can be overwhelming.
My poor baby was crying last night, "Daddy, I miss you." on the phone. She didn't want to talk to me. (I guess being the "bad cop" can have it's disadvantages.)
Daddy was sad, and worried. His baby girl was far away, and sad.
Last night they went to the Rainforest Cafe. The Howler, of course, fit right in! She loved it.
Today, they were going to go to Fort McHenry. (The Howler wanted to know if I knew Francis Scott Key.) Part of me is hoping to hear, but another part of me believes that if they do call, the Howler will be upset again.
I'm desperately hoping for some good pics of their adventures--which, of course, I will share.
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