The Dust Bunnies Tried to Revolt!

So I finally had to clean the living room. The dust bunnies were sporting tattoos and gang apparel.

I'm wondering, though -- does anyone else have the habit of picking up little pieces of dust, crumbs, et cetera from surfaces and then deliberately depositing them onto the floor just for the satisfaction of watching the vacuum suck them up?

WARNING: For Women Only

I don't even know how to preface this. So I'll just say, "Ladies, this one is for you..."

http://www.tamponcrafts.com/

(Thanks to Sarah for turning me on to this absolutely disgusting, but hilarious, website.)

I hate coffee tables

I really do.

I hate those things.

They take up space in living rooms across the world, space that could be better utilized, in my humble opinion.

Take, for instance, the coffee table in our house.

It's a nice coffee table, as far as coffee tables go. (It's oak, though... blech. I'm not a big oak fan. Give me cherry or mahogany. Not oak.) It even has two "tiers", so we can use the bottom part for books, magazines and our growing assortment of cars, dinosaurs and stuffed animals.

But I still find the thing repulsive.

Maybe it's the shape. Rectangular. How... quaint.

I mean, at least an oval one would be somewhat eye-catching. No right angles. Just smooth. Round. Fluid. Or how about some bizarre shape, like a hand or a toilet bowl or a fish. ANYTHING but a rectangle.

I tried to hide our coffee table the last time we moved our furniture, tried to sneak it into a corner so it wouldn't be the ugly centerpiece it is. But someone wanted it out (that someone is a "he", by the way, and "he" is married to someone in our house) to use as a place to put drinks, dishes, et cetera. And I, being the softie I am, couldn't say no.

I mean, I understand the principle of the coffee table. But we have TV trays. Bring 'em out, set 'em up, put 'em out of sight. Done. Much nicer than a massive piece of furniture that serves no real purpose except to tick me off.

Coffee tables. The scourge of our society.

I know, I know...

... I should write more!

This was my initial blog, but I spend so much time at my other one (www.recessforwriters.blogspot.com) that I end up neglecting this one. But please understand that I will always love my "first born"!

In news of the "boy wonder" kind, my son still hasn't connected with his pre-Kindergarten. I'm now forced (almost two months after starting this journey) to ask myself if the money is worth it.

The problem is that the teachers have to teach to the "lowest common denominator" of sorts. Thus, they are unable to work with kids who are into reading, geography, arts, music, linguistics, math, theatre, et cetera.

I'm beginning to feel as though I'm simply paying this "school" to feed my son lunch and take him to the playground. That makes me a little queasy, to be perfectly honest. After all, that's something I can do myself.

So... what would you do with a child who is obviously not stimulated by pre-Kindergarten? It's the most "academic" one I've found in the area, so if I remove him, we'll just continue to work with him at home. That won't be a problem... but he'll go to Kindergarten next year, and I feel that he'll be even more distanced from his peers than he is now in terms of what he already has learned.

I'm stumped.

One part of me says that he shouldn't be penalized because he's smart. The other part of me says that he has to learn the patience that comes with being "gifted" and having to wait in a classroom sometimes.

Uggh.

I know I sound like a total bitch who is bragging about her son. Please don't leave comments to that extent -- believe me, I don't enjoy this dilemma. Yes, he's intelligent, but it's not something that we like to talk about in front of him. In fact, we don't really dwell on it because I believe a lot of kids have incredible talents -- his just seems to be academic rather than physical or musical.

I'm really stumped.

And here I thought the hardest part about school would be what to send in his lunchbox. Ha.

Mystery Solved!

Today, I solved the mystery of the birthday boy whom my son doesn't seem to know.

Turns out he's in another class and just happens to have friends in my son's class. So the parents felt it was necessary to invite everyone from both classes.

On a separate note, when I met this kid, I was grossed out.

Green-yellow snot ball hanging out of his left nostril. It moved when he spoke. He never seemed to notice it, but it was about as big as a chimichanga.

Disgusting.

I can handle a lot of stuff, but "boogers" make me sick.

End result: I think I'll decline, not because of the hygiene thing, but because my son shows no interest in the kid.

(Okay, I'll admit it--the honkin' piece of snot sealed the deal.)

Blindsided

I wasn't surprised when my son announced (after going to school for a few days) that he didn't want to go back.

And I wasn't surprised when the only friends he has discussed were girls (mostly blondes with blue eyes.)

But I was blindsided by the invitation I picked up in his school mailbox. It was to a birthday party for a boy in his class whom neither of us knows.

My son cannot tell me who this kid is, and I've never met him either. So I'm stumped. What the heck is a mom to do?

I suppose I have a few choices, none of which I particularly like:

1. Have my young'un attend the party and treat it as an opportunity to meet other parents while he (hopefully) plays.

2. Call the mother and lie, stating that we cannot make it for one reason or another. (Is saying, "We have to wash the cat..." wrong?)

3. Call the mother and tell the truth--I'm uncomfortable sending my child to a party for a boy just because they have been in the same class together for all of five days.

Motherhood. It's fraught with such bizarre dilemmas. And I can't figure out how to deal with most of them.

Fundraising Rant

Before starting this rant, I'd like to make a few statements:

#1: I believe in fundraising. In fact, I enjoy it... when it's handled correctly and appropriately.
#2: I think that kids are terrific salespeople, but they shouldn't be roped into selling.
#3: I truly like the school my son is attending.

Okay. Now to the rant...

Yesterday, my son started preschool. I was very pleased with everything about the place and he seemed to enjoy himself, though I think he was a tad bit overwhelmed.

But when I looked over the materials that were sent home with him, a coupon book caught my eye. "How nice!" I thought. "They are giving parents and students the chance to save money at local establishments!"

I was wrong.

The coupon book had a "catch". It costs $25. And my son (or, more precisely, my husband and I) has the opportunity to sell these coupon books to his family and friends. The school gets half the profits, which will go toward a new playground.

I was shocked.

First of all, this isn't a nonprofit organization. It's a franchise and it's not inexpensive to send my son there.

Secondly, it was our first day! I would have been more open to the whole notion if it had been approached delicately after we'd been there a while.

Third, I would rather simply give the school the amount (half the book's worth) and be done with it.

Again, let me reiterate that I LIKE this establishment. And I realize that such fundraising is often necessary to keep up a level of quality. I'm just disappointed.