Welcome To Harper Valley

pop. 1 crazy-assed tantrumming mom

So, the PTA saga continues, and this time, I have a Lifetime Movie quality report. I'm so excited by this, I just wish I was better at writing dialogue so I could actually do the script and get it sold. Short of a murder (which, given what I've seen, may be in the works) I can't think of anything fictional that could be added.

A week ago yesterday (Thursday) the PTA had it's Executive Board Nominations for the '09-'10 school year. Simple enough--a committee had been formed, against Miss Thang's wishes--and they collected a scant handful of volunteers. They did the best they could with what they had, and Miss Thang was not nominated by the committee for the Top Spot. She was left with 2nd place again--and it was obvious that she was NOT happy.

There appears to be a woman, the newsletter woman actually, operating behind the scenes. She issues commands and these other women jump to fulfill them. This wouldn't be a problem, if any of these twits had a clue about the by-laws. She, and they, have operated the past 2 years as if there was no such thing--they are a law unto themselves.

And they think that they and only they, have the right to nominate anyone.

Considering that they have effectively offended, ignored, used, manipulated, and blamed nearly everyone who doesn't fit into their clique, there are more than a few unhappy parents who have just plain given up on the PTA accomplishing anything.

Anyway, during the meeting, Miss Thang jumped up and ran, boobs all jiggling, across the room, to the Behind Woman. They pow-wowed (and yes, it was a whispering pow-wow) and then Miss Thang skittered back to her place, and awaited her nomination for president. And it happened.

During the time they pow-wowed (I honestly think they felt that the meeting should have just stopped and waited for them), they missed several nominations--from the committee AND from the floor. They paid attention, however, when the current secretary/presidential nominee's hubby was nominated for treasurer.

The big stink was that 2 years ago--how we ended up with this collective of idiocy and self-importance--a similar situation arose. It's also how the Behind Woman (she really needs a better nick, but stay with me on this one) ended up not being president--her H, Limp Dishrag Man, got treasurer.

Again, they never consulted the by-laws, which allows this, and they don't have a mature and sensible brain among them, or they'd know that all they'd have to do is not have the president (said treasurer's wife) be able to sign checks, act like adults in any tie vote or conflict, and make sure the books were audited by an outside source every year. It's been done before and it's not a problem.

And it's still NOT a problem--voting doesn't take place until the end of April. By nominating Miss Thang, they've kept it from being a done-deal.

The problem is that Miss Thang, who doesn't know a minute from an agenda, apparently, was counting on being named president, since she's been Acting President. She's gone so far as to just forget that she's the acting president, and identified herself as the president.

The other thing about the by-laws is that she thinks that if she's the default-president, she can get the nominations voided (she's run through every reason she can think of, and has had Limp Dishrag Man threaten to send the by-laws to a CPA--what kind of legal advice does a CPA give I wonder) and name a nominating committee herself. The president, according to the by-laws, has nothing, zip, nada, to do with the nominating and voting. She can nominate, she can vote--just like any member, but she cannot, cannot, cannot, be on the committee(s), or handle the information or ballots.

Miss Thang apparently believes that if she voids the nominations as they currently stand, she will be able to run for president unopposed, and continue their reign of indifference.

They've also begun harrassing the current secretary/presidential nominee, her H, and totally discounted the few of us who are not stuck up their asses in the process. Little does she know that, as My Sweetie pointed out, I love a good fight.

And I have embraced the dark side--I was nominated (a fact which Miss Thang didn't catch or chose to ignore) for secretary, and given the current nuclear wasteland of a tantrum Miss Thang is throwing, have made it clear that "we" cannot have her run unopposed for ANY office. She needs to actually EARN whatever she ends up with, and if she thinks she's going to get on the board again and make life a living hell for the rest of us, she's got another think coming.

Fortunately, in beginning to speak up last January, many other people have also begun speaking up, stepping up, and wanting to make changes.

Basically, I've accepted that my being in a position of responsibility on the PTA is a calling--and that adds it to my mission from God.

*sigh* I just wish He didn't trust me so much.

Something Wicked This Way Comes

Okay, not wicked, exactly, but just not right.

Never before have I NOT wanted to be in a seat of power. Apparently, all Mad-Scientist-Taking-Over-The-World tendancies have been beaten outta me of late.

So What?

Well, tonight, it happened. I was nominated for an PTA executive committee seat. With no effort on my part, too.

It's weird. Just plain WEIRD. I've never been nominated before. (Thrown my own name in, yes, nominated on someone else's thinking I'd do a good job, NO.)

I feel sick to my stomach, like I've totally done the wrong thing. I could actually hear those people thinking it, and when they actually said it out loud, all I wanted to do is bang my head off the table.

I've prayed about this--I honestly do not know how I'm going to do it. And, technically, I did not accept the nomination. I told 'em, "I won't fight it."

I am Captain Lame-O, and I have an increasingly upset stomach.

Read To Me

The Howler likes books. She writes her own stories and songs, too.

Anyway, about two years ago, I purchased the book Charlotte's Web, hoping to read it to her. Having never read it myself, I thought it might be a fun adventure for us. She had enjoyed the movie so very much, and I thought this might be a good way to not only bond with the little monkey, but to encourage her early efforts at reading.

She would have none of it. It was boring (I think she was being polite--she meant I was boring.) so after barely two chapters, it's been sitting on one flat surface or another in her room. I was disappointed, in a way, but since she was constantly asking her father to read to her (shorter, not-boring-at-all storybooks) I was comforted that it was a rejection of ME, not of reading.

We spent most of last year listening to her tell us she "couldn't" read something because it was "too long" or had "too many words I don't know." She was shy about reading anything that was not 100% easy for her--in other words, if it caused her to in any way risk making a mistake, she was simply NOT going to do it.

She simply hates sounding out words, not not knowing what they mean. She also hates to look, or feel, stupid (not that we do that to her, but you know what I mean) to the point that even her 1st grade teacher noticed how dependent she would be over any new skill.

My Howler is confident--as long as it's something she's got down cold. If she can do it in her sleep, she's an expert. If she can't do it easily and well, it's simply not worth her time. Period.

Stubborn little beastie, she is.

So, when she decided about 10 days ago, that she was going to take Charlotte's Web from it's dust collecting adventures and haul it to school to read during their free reading time (of whatever the heck it is) I was hesitant. Actually, I told her flat out "No." mostly because I didn't want her to be totally bugging her teacher to help her--there are 19 kids in this classroom, and the Howler is going to start thinking that HER time is the ONLY time, you know?

Anyway, she tells me, at that point that she's already read two chapters. Last night.

I'm all "Say WHAT?!" and she tells me what's happening in the story, even.

Sweet niblets! My girl's a-readin'!

Am I Insane?

I had no intention, ever, of being on any executive committee with the PTA. I still have no intention, but it seems that this is a bullet I cannot dodge.

I've been asked twice now, to put my name down. Sure the nominations process leaves no guarantees--and I've never been elected to hold any office in any club or organization I joined--EVER. (The church thing is a mission from God, and a fluke, and because no one else wanted it. It's not because everyone thought I'd actually be good at it.)

Two different people, on different days. This is getting scary. What if I put my name down and then I actually get voted in? Then what?

I'll tell you what--a full year of actually having to be there. It won't be my choice any longer. And I won't be able to be sarcastic and bitter, either. Do you know how much of my life is involved in sarcastic and bitter? Yeah, it'd be almost like lopping off several fingers or toes. Maybe a whole arm or something.

And didn't I say, just a few months ago, that I would not agree to be nominated? And if nominated anyway, I wouldn't run? And if they ran me anyway, I'd refuse to serve?

Where did that go?

Why can't I just learn to keep my mouth shut?

Birthdays

The Howler's birthday is coming up, and she needs a new bike. The 16" bike she's had is simply too small. Of course, my mother thinks that because she's heard reports of the other girls in the neighborhood getting new bikes, we're "keeping up with OPK."

Far from it. We discussed it around Valentine's Day, when we were still covered in snow, hunting extra pairs of mittens and boots and wondering who would be wearing the other set of children's snow pants, but that doesn't mean anything, I guess.

My Sweetie and I discussed it, and I said to wait and see. Maybe the bike she has would be okay for one more year.

Last weekend, we discovered that I was wrong. Yeppers--I was wrong. The seat and handle bars are up as high as they go, and her knees were about knocking the handlebars. It's too dang small!

Tonight, we did have to make a WalMart run, so off we go, gathering ziploc bags and cat litter...and looking at bikes. LOOKING. Not buying.

We ended up buying. There was a 20" bike, same style, different color, as the one she currently has, for $40. Clearanced priced at $40. Are we stupid enough to "wait and buy it closer to her birthday"? No, we are the Mumples, not the Stupids.

We got her a new helmet--she's outgrown that as well. She wanted a bell, so we got her that, too. She wanted a flag, and remarkably enough, there was one for $4 to match her new bike.

I told her she had to wait to ride it. I didn't really mean that, though. Her father wants a few days to go over it and tighten up all the bolts and things, and get the flag and bell on it.

Pictures next weekend!

I'm a Baaaaaaaad Mommy

So, off to the doc we went yesterday. We see Doc F2 (with her main pede being Doc F1.)

Doc F2 is a good doc, but he mumbles--he seems painfully shy. And I, of course, have a tendancy to overwhelm shy people--bowling them over, I believe it's been called.

Anyway, he asks about her asthma meds. Weeeeelllllll, in all honesty, the Singular (5mg) works superbly, but the side effects are unbearable. She can't rest; her tummy hurts; she cries at the drop of a hat; she whines of headaches. Continually. We switched her to from the Pulmicort Flexhaler (180mg) because it caused nighttime coughing--nothing earth shaking, but it was sleep depriving. Previous mentions of the cough, and the need to "take a break of 2 days" from it on a bi-weekly basis brought no response. The Pulmicort also did not fully control the asthma, and she was still not able to fully participate in gym class.

(As an aside, recommendations on the projectile vomitting induced by tagament for reflux and the augmentin last spring were, and I quote, "So stop giving it to her." The end.)

Doc F2 spent a full minute violently tapping his pen over this revelation. (Doing it my way has the asthma under control and the Howler enjoys full gym class participation--AND the last 2 rounds of viruses has not caused even a squeak from the asthma.)

He does a throat culture (a dangerous proposition with her hair-trigger gag reflex.) No strep. Yes, this is good news, but her throat, even with no complaints about her throat, is highly inflamed. He gives a prescription for an antibiotic. One dose in and the Howler, while still slightly pale, is back to normal. Mouth and all.

Last night she was so hot and sweaty at midnight that I had to roll her around to change her pajamas. And she needed an ASAP shower this AM. There's no more fever--she was warm, warmer, warmest for the past 2.5 days. Fevers worry me something terrible. I am a total spaz in the face of a fever. (Add vomiting, and I'm in total freak out mode.)

Doc F2, though, calls my asthma prevention "unorthodox" and recommends trying a different inhaler. Fine. He brings it back into the exam room, and I ask if it's approved for Under 12. I have to ask a second time, and he seems a little miffed. I think, at this point, if he were the swearing-yelling type, I'd have gotten an earful. Anyway, it's NOT approved for the Under 12 set, so he sticks out his hand, says, "Give it back to me." and brings in another one, Advair, that is approved for the 4 to 12 set.

We're trying it, but I have no high hopes for it--the list of side effects, warnings, and cautions is quite unnerving.

Her yearly checkup is next month, and we should know well before then if the Advair is working. If it's not, I'll be asking for a referral to a pediatric pulmonologist.

I trust these docs, but I don't like the prospects--she misses out on activities she enjoys, and I feel impending doom and an on-coming full blown asthma attack. (She's never had one, and I hope to God she never ever does.)

So, with the antibiotic, breaking fever, and a good night's rest, the Howler will be hitting the streets come Monday AM. Look out world, break time is over.

Rue the Day

I rue the day I showed the Howler how to use the phone.

We have a programmable phone book on it, and there are a lot of numbers programmed. I thought, at the time, that telling her how to use it would save me from being harassed into dialing numbers for her while I'm indisposed (read: in the shower--sure, yeah. Shower.)

Anyway, she's now taken to calling random family members, especially yesterday and today since she's still sick.

Yesterday, I left her with the Toad so I could get more children's tylenol, and I came home to find her talking with Grandma M on speakerphone (speakerphone is the other new toy she's found.)

Today, she nagged me to be allowed to call Grammy (my mom, who has bronchitis.) She got the phone herself, dialed and put my mother on speakerphone. I think my mom fell asleep at one point, with the Howler still cheerfully sharing the details of her ailment.

She's now going through the phonebook, questioning EVERY.SINGLE.ENTRY. that she does not personally know who it is. Just what I need--when she was 3 and hitting redial it wasn't embarrassing enough?

I most humbly repent allowing her to learn to read, and showing her how to use the fancy-schmancy phone. Amen.

It's a PTA Thing

yeah yeah yeah. But read on, it's sooo worth it!

So, I'm poking around the 'net filling my head with fluff, and at Scribbit's post about reading and books. I'm going to spill my Book Beans, and part of why you all hear so dang much about the PTA.

Years ago, when the Toad was smallish, he attended the same elementary school that the Howler now attends (and that, incidentally, is the school I attended, too.) At the time, they had a program called, "Birthday Books."

Birthday Books celebrated birthdays and reading--by allowing families to donate hardback books* to the school's library in their child's name. The books had a book label in the front cover listing the child's name, their birth date, and the year it was donated. The binder had a birthday cake sticker (that part I had forgotten) so that the Birthday Books were easily found on the shelves.

I don't know who started the program, where the idea came from, or why it was discontinued. All I know is that it's a good program, promotes reading, and helps keep the school library filled with books kids like to read (what family is going to buy a book that their own kid won't read?)

Borne of frustration and a desire to have the Howler's name in a book in the library (and looking for a good excuse to buy hardback books for kids) I proposed to the PTA in January that we start the program back up. That's where a teacher who was there when the Toad was there reminded me about the stickers on the binders.

Anyway, the first month saw over a dozen books come in. (Albeit some families seem to have taken this as an opportunity to have someone else throw away their garbage books.) I am excited by this, and the Howler and I had several spirited discussions about what book to give for her birthday--Skippyjon Jones (me) or The Pigeon (Howler). The Howler won.

Either way, the librarian agreed to give me a "Wish List" of books--ideas, or a place to start, for good books that the children love. The school secretary asked that we add "In Honor Of" or "In Memory Of" options that allow families to donate hardback books for almost any occasion--not just for birthdays!

My own personal, secret goal, is for the PTA to have enough funds available to purchase a book in honor of each teacher and staff member on their birthday--and one for the "graduating" class of 5th graders.

*Hardback books are for durability reasons--there are almost 400 kids in this school, and a popular book has a very short shelf life!

You Know It's Spring When...

Copious amounts of vomit hit the pant leg.

Things learned from Vomitfest 2008:

1. Reaction to Augmentin = copious amounts of vomit.
2. Holding your child's hair out of her face while she vomits is not fun.

Things learned from Vomitfest 2009:

1. It's worse to be the target of projectile vomit than to hold the child's hair out of her face while she vomits (at least if you're holding her hair, you're out of the crosshairs, so to speak.)
2. Taking off your pants in the large front window of your home after 7pm with all the lights on inside will cause your husband to have a mini-stroke, even while containing the spatter from said vomit.
3. It's March, but it's still chilly in the house without your pants.

Life lessons learned:

1. You will never have a year that does not include large volumes of vomit.