Chuck Mangione

In 1994, Chuck Mangione played at the 4th of July festivities at Ft. Vancouver just across the river from us. 

Lyssa was just a little over a year old and already loved music. She never stayed in one place very long, I spent a lot of time following her around. Busy little thing.

We were wandering around behind the stage (outdoor venue) and listening to the band that was on before Chuck Mangione. 

Lyssa was dancing, you know how babies do... and I saw a bearded guy notice her and smile.

He took the eight or so steps necessary to come and dance with her. He held her little hands and danced her in a circle.
It was adorable.

When the music ended, she was ready to wander off again. She waved at him, he waved back.

We went back to our blanket for our picnic, and the announcer introduced Chuck Mangione.

He came onto the stage, carrying his horn.

It was the bearded guy who'd danced with my baby girl.

I think he was actually wearing that same hat.

Okay, so I messed up...

 In my last post I mentioned my kid is working for the same company I am.

Guys, I messed up.
You see, she worked with me. And with Sunshine.

Both of us know what we're doing. And Lyssa does, too. But she's working with a site director who hasn't been doing it long enough to have gotten good at it/didn't work with someone who really *gets* kids.

I've talked before about the token economy thing, or as I like to call it, Bribery and Bullshit. It's a way of controlling children instead of helping equip them with the skills to learn self-control.

I really have no patience with people who think this is a respectful interaction with kids.

(Note: I'm not casting aspersions on what people choose to do at home with stickers or trinkets or other rewards... what a person does in their family is whatever they do.)

But I won't do it on an institutional level. If I had a religion, that would be against it. LOL I've already made it very clear that I won't participate in treating kids this way and that I won't allow it in my program. The only exception is if the school and a family have come to some sort of agreement to help implement a behavior plan. I won't like it, but I'll do it. Otherwise, no.

This is a way of telling children, "I can't trust you to do the right thing (the thing that I want) without a bribe."

Condescending. And so damn unnecessary.

Apparently Lyssa's site director is 100% on board with the play money and the earning of trinkets for being 'good'. Which as we've already discussed, is subjective and often very uneven, with adults who don't like certain kids deliberately overlooking the good things they've done. It pisses me off instantly.

And. The other site assistant has no sense of boundaries, allowing the kids to hang off her arms and be in her personal space.

There are people who have no clue that being physically close to kids in that manner is actually grooming behavior. That 'adult' is not modeling the correct behavior or boundaries for the kids. Here's an excerpt of something I wrote here: (and I just went and re-read that whole post and highly recommend that you do the same and seriously, WHAT THE HELL is WRONG with people???"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Jill, by allowing Barbara to climb all over her (a safe adult, right?) while the other kids watched triggered Emma to climb on a complete stranger 'cause he was wearing the uniform shirt and therefore HE was a safe adult!

Further, Emma now thinks that playful touching in our day care, which is what was being done with Jill/Barbara is not a thing to worry about. How long before she thinks playful touching in other situations is fine? And will there be a predatory adult watching for signs that it's okay to take advantage of a child's innocence and confidence that friendly adults are safe adults?

We have to be on the front line of defense. If we're breaking down barriers while children are in our care, we're not defending them from predators. Quite the opposite.

I've been through many, many hours of RRCAN training, which is the acronym for Recognizing and Reporting Child Abuse and Neglect. Raised two kids. Have been in the kid care business 19 years.

And even though Jill isn't seeing it, what she's doing are grooming behaviors.

I don't think she has any bad intentions, and I'm pretty sure she'd do just about anything to keep kids safe. But she's helping break down that child's barriers to other adults. An adult with bad intentions looks for kids who have areas of vulnerability to exploit.

And this is why I will continue to raise hell as much as I can when I see potential danger to kids."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So yes. It is a big deal to add touch and physical contact to your interactions with children. And as a professional day care provider, one should be keeping that fact in front of them at all times.

It aggravates me that something like this should really require zero contemplation. I don't allow kids in my space. I say, "Hey, you're inside my invisible hula hoop! Please step back, I like my space!"

Works just fine. Sometimes they want a hug. I provide that, always sideways hug. That way no one plants their face in my boobs. Which, you know, is awkward and inappropriate.

The site director at Lyssa's new program doesn't want programming extras 'until the kids learn expectations'. She's a 'sit on the carpet and I will loom over you and tell you what to do and what's good enough' adult. Ugh. She even controls the WAY they sit. They must sit (and it hurts my fuckin' fingers to type this) 'Crisscross Applesauce'.

GAAAHHHHHH.

So my employer hired my kid. Who is very very good at working with kids. And she's stuck at a site with idiots.

I feel bad. I'm the one who told her she should work there.
You guys, it never even occurred to me that it might not be a good fit.

And again... GAAAHHHHH.

It's time....

Back to school.

In our area, there's a staggered back to school schedule. some schools started today, others will be starting in a week, the Tuesday after Labor Day. That's when mine starts.

Not that we haven't already been working a bit. Last week I had two days of training at the main offices. I've had more than one friend/relative scoff and say something like, "What the hell do you need training for???" but it's not an insult to my expertise or experience. It's just a licensing requirement for me to keep my certification. For all of us, really. Everyone has to have a certain number of hours of training yearly. It's not optional.

So I sat through six hours of training on Tuesday. After that, I drove over to Lyssa's to pick her up. She was going to spend the night here and ride with me on Wednesday. Why? Because she's working for the same company I work for now and we had full staff training on Wednesday.

I'm glad she's working with kids again. I've had many assistants over the years. Lost count. None of them have been bad at it. Some lasted longer than others, that whole revolving door thing. But Lyssa was the best assistant I've ever had. She just has a knack for the work. She likes the kids and respects them, and they return that.

So we had two days of training. Then I spent a few hours at my school with my assistant on Thursday putting away first aid supplies and setting up a new shelving unit.

Work from home hours started today.
I did our daily schedule (another licensing thing). I'm working on a little gift for my office staff. When I get a can of peas or green beans with a pop top, I flip it over and remove the bottom of the can with one of the can openers that take off the entire lid. After I clean it and dry it, I put whatever little gift items I want in it. Then I wrap it with scrapbook paper and add stickers or whatever and give it to the person it's intended for. When they open their gift, they pop the top.

I'm putting a few Nestle Crunch bars (fun sized) in the cans this time. It's 'Crunch Week' after all. I'll make some bookmarks out of some little bulletin board penguins and write something either fun or inspirational on them. Something like "It's crunch week, don't forget to take time to chill."

I have a designated work space now. All the punches and markers and colored pencils and scrapbook papers and card stock I could ever use. My printer works with my computer and with the company laptop. The work from home hours I'm given will be a little more efficient now that I've organized.

Let's see. What else is going on?

Matt and Amy celebrated their 10th wedding anniversary this weekend. I really can't believe it, but there it is.

Lyssa and Mason are coming up on three years in a couple weeks.

::sigh:::
My kids grew up!

Eric got wild this past weekend and made tamales and enchiladas. I'm a fan of one but not the other. The enchiladas are too spicy for me.

A bunch of them will be frozen for later

When we got married, his job was cooking in a Mexican restaurant.

One of my friends had a new step-grandma. She was a really sweet lady. Even though it's been 44 years, I still remember her face and her smile. Just a very kind person.

Grandma's name was Esperanza Mendoza, and she had published a small cookbook through an independent publisher . She gave us a copy of it as a wedding gift. We still have it.

Entitled How to Make a Square Tortilla, it gave a little bit of history of her life.

The title is inspired from the fact that most little girls make their tortillas square at first, it's not easy to roll them out round. They don't use a rolling pin that looks like the one I use, instead they use one that's more of a round dowel, a solid piece of wood that's a little smaller around than a toilet paper roll, but about the same length.

So now we have some good stuff in the freezer.

Makes it easier when we're both working.

I've still been messaging with Mom most evenings. She looks forward to it, and I'm sitting here in front of my computer anyway. Her world is a lot smaller, so she doesn't have a lot of new things to talk about. Our conversations aren't terribly exciting.

Her dog is having issues again. The dog is ancient. Earlier this year, her back legs stopped working. When Mom called me, I could hear the dog crying in the background. She was in a lot of pain and didn't understand what was happening to her.

Mom spent nearly a thousand dollars on laser treatments for the dog. Steroids, Gabapentin and lasers. To my surprise the dog was able to walk again.

The vet cautioned Mom that it wasn't a permanent fix, that eventually Daisy will deteriorate and have to be euthanized. I know that Mom doesn't want to do that, it's her last thing she shared with my dad. Daisy was really his dog.

Well, this past weekend, one of Daisy's back legs stopped working again. Mom was dithering about taking her to the vet. I told her that she should, that it was needlessly cruel to just let her be in pain without trying to help, so she's back on the medicine/laser thing again. I don't know, the dog is 17 years old. She's mostly blind and deaf, has arthritis all over the place and isn't in great shape. I think it's mean to keep her hanging on, but Mom doesn't want to make that call. I do understand, I just don't agree.

I think that once Mom has to make the decision to let her go, it won't be long until she's lonely enough to go to assisted living. I really feel like she would be better off doing so, she 'doesn't feel like' making food most of the time, she has some other issues that are difficult for her to deal with alone, and we all worry that she's going to end up falling and no one will know.

Yeah, she has a Life Alert, but she often forgets to wear it. It's not going to help her if it's lying on the counter in the kitchen when she falls on the floor in the bathroom, but there's not a whole lot I can do about it except hope that doesn't happen.

So that's what's up.
There's more, equally exciting and thrilling. Life in general.

Website Woes

In the days before my second child came along, I was a spider killer.
See one? Squish it!

But Lyssa changed all that.
She's a person with a kind heart. She cares about animals and insects and plants.. every living creature.

On multiple occasions I've seen her cross a parking lot to fish a worm out of a puddle and relocate it, for example.

Because she made me look at things differently, I no longer felt good about killing a creature that was merely looking for dinner.

I am (usually) not a spider meal, they seem to prefer smaller critters.

We had a spider web behind the dishwasher a few years ago. Every morning when I looked at it, there were several ant carcasses under the web.
Guess that was the spider's way of paying the rent. Ha.

You know why aardvarks don't get sick, right?
They're full of little ant bodies. That's today's clean joke.

I relocate spiders now.
I want them to build their websites somewhere else.

If I see one and I'm not dressed for the day yet or it's the middle of the night, I upend a clear glass yogurt jar over the trespasser and leave it until I either put some clothes on or get up for the day.

Not about to step out on my front porch in a big t shirt and nothin' else.
No one needs to see that. It's probably illegal in some states and if it isn't, it should be.

When I'm ready to help the spider move to a new home, I slide an index card carefully under the jar and pick up my eight legged freak friend and dump it off the front porch into the vegetation.

And I've taken my spider show on the road, so to speak.
We don't kill things where I work, either. I've spent a good deal of time explaining to various groups of children in the last 19 years that spiders are not 'poisonous' and that only a very few of them are venomous. I explain the difference, too. Sneaking in a science lesson is always a good idea.

So the Monday was the first time we've seen a spider in our space at the school.
The spider's appearance coincided with our visit from the state daycare license guy, who was sitting on a bench way off in the corner, observing the program and writing.

When I heard one of the kids freak out, "SPIDER!!!" I grabbed a cup from the snack box and while on the way across the room, said, "Don't kill it! It's just looking for lunch!"

I went to the scene of the crime and put the upside down cup over the trespasser, fielding questions from the group about why and what was I going to do with it and, "This one time I saw the BIGGEST SPIDER!"

One of them asked, "But what if it bites you?"
"I am not spider food, " I told her. "The only reason this spider would bite me is if I hurt it. Maybe squash it with my hand or do some other mean thing that I would never do. Spiders eat a LOT of bugs. They're not interested in us, bugs taste better to them."

So I left the cup over the spider and finished the check in process, which involves writing down each child's name and the time they show up on two different pieces of paper, putting a check mark next to their name on a third form and giving each one a fluorescent green amusement park style bracelet and reminding them to go wash, "Yes, even if you're not having a snack. We wash after school every day, remember?"

After all that was finished and the kids were officially snacking, I got a piece of cardboard, slid it under the cup and picked the intruder up.

My youngest little guy was jumping up and down next to me, he wanted to see the spider. I gently shook the cup so the spider was sure to be at the bottom and not frighten him and moved the cardboard slightly aside for him to look.

That element of surprise is the reason I use a clear jar at home, by the way. But glass containers in day care aren't such a great idea.

He peeked into the cup, was suitably impressed. He asked if he could watch me let it go. I told him, "Yes, come stand by this window and you can see him scamper off to build a website somewhere else."

There was a mad rush, 10 of the 14 kids in the group ran to the window to watch me go out and dump the critter. So I took the cardboard off the cup and tilted the cup toward the window so they could all get a good look at it and let it go in the shrubs along the side.

The licensing guy had commentary about it, too. He loved that I let the kids see the spider, that we didn't kill it and that I just left it on the floor under the cup until I'd finished the necessary paperwork.

So then I got up yesterday morning about 5 to pee. I saw a pretty large spider on the floor in the kitchen. So I got the jar from the top of the dishwasher and carefully sneaked up on the spider. If you go stomping toward them and make the floor shake, they run. As they should.

After putting the jar over him (it?) I used the bathroom, washed my hands, grabbed a long sweatshirt so I wouldn't freeze to death on the front porch and went back to slide that piece of cardboard under the jar. I found that my knees were not awake yet, though.

I think I'm a guy... I wake up stiff in the morning.

I went in and woke Eric up and told him my spider story. He'd been stirring anyway, he's notoriously an early riser (weirdo) and doesn't mind being awakened to save my life. Haha, remember the possum(s)?

He came into the kitchen while I was unlocking the front door so he could dump Mr Arachnid over the side of the porch. He picked up the jar after sliding the cardboard under, peered owlishly at it and said, "Are you sure this is even a spider?"

Neither one of us were wearing glasses. I was all set to be embarrassed, but I grabbed my reading glasses and it was a spider.

It was just already dead, which probably explains Pixel and the 2 AM zoomies we heard. She likes to play with spiders and usually they don't survive her games.

It's that time of year. Found a beautiful wolf spider in our cafeteria this afternoon while I was alone, setting up program. He wasn't happy about being trapped in the cup, I could hear his legs brushing around the inside. I took him out to the same general location as the one I dumped the other day.

I've taught the same lesson to sooo many groups of kids.
It's always something like, "Hey, what if you were sitting in a restaurant waiting for your favorite dinner and some big giant came along and stepped on you and squashed you? I don't think it's fair to do that to someone just looking for lunch."

The kids do understand it. They teach it to other kids, I've seen it happen.

I wonder how many of them have continued to catch and release critters?
Hope it's a large percentage.

Okay then.

Blogger won't let me answer my comments today. I can approve them, but can't see them afterward. Weird.

Not sure why, but can't do it on my phone or my tablet, either. So maybe I can access them tomorrow.

I will have more photos, hopefully better ones... but haven't hooked up the big camera to the computer yet.

Bob's camera decided it wasn't going to work for him and he used my big camera instead. So I had the little one. I did take photos, but not as many as I would have liked to. It was kind of a busy day.

I gave away the rest of the flowers (had two bunches that I didn't use) on the local FB 'Buy Nothing' group. Gave away the platter that looked like a flower, too. The other platter belonged to my maternal grandmother, so that one stays. I use it every year for our Thanksgiving dinner. Rarely anytime in between.

Meanwhile, it's after 9 and I am up at 5 and even though there is a nap built into my schedule, it's not enough of a nap that I wanna stay up all night.

So more photos coming soon, answers to your comments, too.

Zzzzz ya later.

Quick Check-in

Well, it's crazy.

Not in a bad way. Just in an immediate, frenzied, don't have time to pee and not getting good sleep way.

I have a full house. They're all really nice kids. They are kind to each other, great at keeping their distance from others, terrific at keeping their masks on. None of them are 'traumatized' at having to mask up. I saw a parent pitching a fit on the news last week saying that her poor babies were traumatized at having to wear a mask.

I doubt that.

So they're great kids. Oh sure, they act like children. They snipe at each other a little and they're testing the boundaries with me a bit.

"Ivan, since we talked about throwing toys yesterday and we've already covered it twice today, I'm not going to believe your 'I forgot' anymore. You have not forgotten, you've just decided not to listen. If you'd like to continue playing there, the toys need to stop flying."

He believed me.

This time.

I stopped at Sprawlmart and bought 500 big red plastic cups last week.  They're a construction toy. Towers and houses and corrals and fire stations are built, shared, torn down to be rebuilt even better.

Turns out I will probably need another 200 or so, they are getting broken/stepped on a bit. It's mostly unintentional, they just get excited and forget to look before they step. And I do have quite a few really young kids, too. Our space, while decent, is not large enough for the kids to keep their distance from one another and to make elaborate construction projects at the same time.

I've had to track a few kids down after school. Working to get parents trained to understand that they need to call me and let me know if their child will not be attending program.

Since I am not part of the school, the parental phone call to the school's attendance line does not reach me. Instead, I have to bother school staff to locate the child, then call the parent once I've verified the kid is safe/on their way to me/rode the bus... whatever.

I have to make those phone calls while kids are pouring in after school, getting toys out, making a mess, asking for supplies. I have three sibling pairs who are happy to greet each other after school, too. Usually the larger one needs to be reminded not to lift the smaller one. "Yes, I know he's your brother and I love that you are so happy to see him, but I have to ask you not to lift him while you are here."

Craft projects have been happening on a limited basis. The program area is a pit. There are (or were) about a million crayons, colored pencils, old markers. Broken toys, crumpled tissue paper, GLITTER (oh good heavens no) and various things that make me do a Mowgli.
(It's much higher class for me to put it that way than saying WTAF over and over... you can say many things about me, but 'keeping it classy' needs to be near the top of the list.)

I brought in a big bin of cotton string. The Cream and Sugar kind you get in the craft stores for about 5 bucks a skein. In my case, I buy it at Goodwill in bags with 10 or more skeins for 5 bucks. Although I end up paying for that stuff myself quite often, it's still a good deal and makes my job easier, something that's worth a little of my cash.

We're making these.

And let's face it, I am not going to retire on the 20 bucks here, 30 bucks there that I've spent on my program(s) over the years. Eric calls it 'buying tools'. As in, "You're buying tools that will help you do your job better. It's an investment, not an expense."

Man, I love that guy.

I'm not sleeping well, and not really resting when I finally DO sleep. The night before I actually started the job I slept a TOTAL of three hours. Count 'em... one, two, three. Saying I felt like doodoo is an understatement. UGHHHHH. Not sure I've caught up yet, either.

There are lots of little details and stuff that needs to happen, and it's not going to be done overnight. Unfortunately, I have no magic wand.

This weekend (Saturday!!) is Mason and Alyssa's wedding. I'm still working on getting ribbons and bows and things made for the flower arrangements, and I'll be baking about 80 cupcakes on Friday. The weather looks like it's gonna be just about perfect. The shelter we rented is covered just in case, but I am guessing things will be fine.

I'm grateful my kid is as low maintenance as I am, being practical and pragmatic are usually helpful to me, I hope those traits are equally helpful to her. She's a trip.

I'll post some getting married photos (if it's okay with her).
I'll definitely show you the decorations and cupcakes, though.

Okay, so that sleep I haven't been getting? It's 8:22 already, and I am not only up at 5 like I've always been for this job, but I have a much longer commute. I have to leave the house at 5:45 to get there on time. It's freeway driving for more than halfway, so it's bright and fast and hectic.

Which are good adjectives to describe me AND my new job.

And how are things in your life?

While we're on the subject of faith...

I once was suspected of harboring the devil.

At least that's how I interpreted it.

I know, I know, a fat housewife with a warped sense of humor and a smartassy attitude isn't usually someone to fear, but apparently I was pretty scary.

Back in about 2002, I signed Lyssa up for a public school sponsored program. It was intended to be a supplemental thing.
Electives, really.
PE, art, band, drama.

She enjoyed the classes for the most part. One of the things we had to agree to in signing up for these classes was that we'd attend the two days per week for 12 weeks as the funding for the program was contingent on attendance.

I had conversations with several homeschooling moms during those weeks.

One morning after I'd dropped Lyssa off, one decided to stop and talk to me in the hallway at the other end of the building.

She was friendly, we chatted about homeschooling (she'd just started) and about the classes being offered.

Then she asked me, "What curriculum do you use?"
That's a standard homeschooler question, or was back then at least.
"Oh we don't use curriculum. We learn from all kinds of things."

She looked surprised. We had a little bit of conversation about it, she was under the impression that it wasn't possible to teach a child to read without first teaching them phonics. She didn't think kids would learn anything if you didn't MAKE them do lessons. She used christian curriculum, she told me, and suggested that everyone should.

I told her that my older kid had done very well without all that stuff and that neither of my children had ever had a phonics lesson.
She looked skeptical, but let it go.

Then she asked, "What church do you go to?"

"Oh we don't do church. We're atheists."

The change in her demeanor was just...stunning.
She gasped. Physically stepped back from me, mouth open, eyes wide.
She raised her hand, palm toward me.

And from her mouth (loudly) came this sentence, all the words shoved together and spewing forth like a waterfall.

"SatanIBindYouInTheNameOfJesusChrist!!" she said, and turned from me and RAN out the door. She jumped in her vehicle and I swear to you, the tires chirped as she left the parking lot.

She withdrew her two daughters from the program immediately, never mind about the 12 weeks thing. I heard from one of the registration moms that she'd called and said that she did not want her daughters hanging out with the children of unbelievers and that if the school wanted to offer these classes again, perhaps they should screen the  participants a little better.

What's the old Groucho Marx quote?
Ah, found it.

I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member.

Ah, the good old days.

My head hurts and we're creative here.

I've been trying to ditch a headache for almost a week now.

Had it for three days on the left. Took a partial day off on Friday. Then it migrated to the right. I woke up at least four times a night to take medication. Excedrin. Migraine medicine. Heartburn pills. UGHHH.

So this morning I woke up with the headache on the right and it was so bad I wanted to puke.

It had been seven hours since I took anything, so I threw everything I had at it.
Two Excedrin, half a migraine pill and a vicodin. Then a heartburn pill because taking all that shit at once was definitely going to give me heartburn. Geez. Washed it down with a small glass of chocolate milk. Need that sugar boost to go along with it.

But you know what? It worked. I took all that shit about 7:15 and by 8:00 I didn't have the headache anymore.  I got up and took a shower. Felt so much better. But about 4:00 I had to take another half a migraine pill.

I can hear the more astute among you asking 'why only half a migraine pill'? Well let me tell you!

That shit is nasty.
Side effects are no fun.
Hot and cold and hot and cold.
Sweaty and quivery.
Lightheaded, although not dizzy or buzzed at all.

I have learned that a half pill will kick the headache, at least for six/eight hours without the nasty side effects. Or the occasional side effects aren't quite as bad. Also, if I take a whole one and it wears off in six hours or so, I can't take another until 12 hours have passed. And waiting 12 hours is just agony. Migraines aren't fun. If you haven't had one, I recommend that you do not.

I've been sitting in the momcave with Lyssa quite a lot doing crafty stuff. She's always been incredibly creative. There are tons of bits and pieces. Little wooden disks and sticks and little hearts and beads and all kinds of just stuff. A million sheets of scrapbook paper. Glue and paint and scissors and markers and colored pencils. And decoupage. Yarn. I have materials for almost anything you could think of.

It makes me happy to have my daughter here, making stuff. She's working on a diorama. I'll show you some pictures if she'll let me.

Meanwhile, last week I did a new ice dyed sweatshirt.
Which is now hers.

I love ice dye, you never know what you're going to end up with. I actually have another sweatshirt to dye, and a couple ideas about the colors I want to use.

And I have a buttload of other things ready to dye, which is this week's project.

I'm making some slipper socks for my dad, too. With his heart problems his feet swell and regular slippers are uncomfortable for him. So I'm doing some XXL diabetic cotton socks and putting non-skid stuff on the soles. I hope those will work and cheer him up a little. I'm making my mom a big t shirt with hearts on it to sleep in, also. I think tie dye is a cheerful sort of thing, don't you?

It's nice to have Lyssa and Mason here.
I am not lonely the way I have been since the world closed.

Surprise!

I've been a little scarce here. Haven't been writing anything, haven't been reading anyone's blogs. I hope to get caught up in the next few days. Been a little busy.
Had to clean the house up in a hurry (and no, I didn't get it all done but it's a lot better than it was...)

A month ago, we found out Lyssa and Mason would be coming here, a week ago, we learned that it would be a little sooner than we expected.

They arrived on Monday the 18th.

We're thrilled to have them here. I have no idea how long they'll be with us, but it doesn't matter. They're in a place where they are wanted.

They brought me a grandkitty, too.
Pixel seems happy here, she likes the window in the momcave and the one in the living room.

Mason is a nice guy. He takes good care of my kid and has a sense of humor. We both like him already. I knew we would, Lyssa picked him out. It's courageous to jump in a car, drive across the US and move in with people you don't know.

I know it's courageous, I did it back in 1982. And while it didn't go well 'cause alcohol being the main resident of the house doesn't make things very calm or nice, I don't regret it. We went where we were supposed to be, I think.

Let's see. I'm trying to make sure they're comfortable. The bedroom isn't big, it's made smaller with the addition of a queen sized bed, and we only have one bathroom, but we made it work for a long time, we'll manage. We need some shelves for their room, they have a lot of stuff.

We'll be tossing some things into the shed on the weekend, including my grandmother's antique double bed, which was in the guest room.

She picked out a tall guy, so we needed a queen bed. I asked on FB if any of my local friends knew of one because I didn't want to spend a bunch of money I don't have to buy a brand new bed. A very nice person who comes to the craft gatherings we had (when times were a little more normal) told me she had a queen bad and mattress that was practically new. We drove over to Tigard to pick it up on Friday. Furthest I've been from home since the plague hit.

She wouldn't allow us to give her any money for it. She said she just wanted to help.
Ha, I should have asked her if she had any shelves. :)

We're waiting for Goodwill to open, it will be nice to be able to get stuff and NOT pay damn retail prices.

So that's what we're up to.
My sweet daughter is home and I'm overjoyed.

Shit happened. But on the bright side, we're getting an addition to our family.

Tuesday the 7th was the day that Lyssa and Mason were supposed to come see us.

It's been almost a year since we made the airline reservations.

Matt and Amy insisted on paying for half the ticket, which wasn't necessary but was really nice.

I love the closeness my kids have always had. Matt has loved his baby sister from the moment he first saw her. She's been crazy about him, too. Best friends from the beginning.

Obviously neither of them are babies now, but the relationship they have is a great one.

So the trip... well, it was an on-again, off-again, on-again thing.
First the house fire, then Mason had some commitments and Lyssa didn't want to come without him. So no one was going to come. Then they changed their minds and they were BOTH coming. And then the plague hit. And for their safety and ours, they didn't come.

It has been nearly two years since I've seen my daughter. Two long, long years in which I haven't been able to give her a hug. Go somewhere in the car and chat. Seems like a lot of our really good conversations happened in the car.

I haven't been able to go Goodwill Hunting with her, either.

And with the plague we were all concerned that it wouldn't be safe for them to travel.

Then the decision was taken out of our hands, the airline canceled two legs of the flight.

Now I'm trying to get the flight 'insurance' to fucking pay off. Shitbags.
I don't even feel like trying to write that part up, actually.

I don't want to talk a lot of shit about someone I don't even know, but Mason's mom isn't exactly the most welcoming or kind person to my daughter, which kinda puts her on my feces roster.

Actually, she's not terribly nice to her son, either.
It's awful and makes me angry for them both.

I won't tell you the story, or stories.
They're not mine and it's not fair, that ______ ______ can't defend herself.
(But I'll bet you can fill in the blanks if you've been reading here for any amount of time.)

But I will say that they're going to come here and live with us while they get on their feet.
We've always had help when we needed it and I'm so pleased to be able to offer that help now.

My daughter is our treasure, therefore the guy she has picked out is officially family, which means is he is to be accepted, appreciated for who he is and treated respectfully by us.

I trust my daughter's judgement and Mason will be welcomed as if he's one of our own.

Not sure when it will happen. We would like to be reasonably certain they won't get sick 'cause they're traveling and that we won't due to their arrival. They'll need jobs, too.

So the economy will have to be starting up again.

So here we are, at the tail end of middle age, gaining another kid.

Lyssa Update

Pixel came wandering out of the burned out kitchen while Alyssa and Mason were in what's left of their house, surveying the damage.

A visit to the vet let them know that her throat was sore from smoke inhalation, but that her lungs are good and she should be okay.

They escaped with nothing. No shoes, socks, underwear.
All the necessities one needs, like toothbrushes and girl stuff.

I'm humbled by the generosity of my friends and family.
I'm not going to mention names here as the gifts were privately given.

But I can tell you that some of the people who gave money to my daughter are people who have never met her. OR me. I have a group of friends I've been chatting with online for over 20 years. And some of them sent money.

A guy I went to high school with and haven't seen in 40 years? He sent money to her.

A friend who had her daughter in my girl scout troop.

Another friend who also had a girl in my troop and has been my friend for many years.

Someone who entrusted her kids to me for a couple years about 28 years ago sent money.

More than one relative, too.

I'm glad we kept Lyssa's checking account here. I can put money in her account in an emergency situation. I'm pretty sure this qualifies as an emergency.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So Lyssa tried to call me when they were sitting in the ambulance watching their house burn and my phone didn't recognize Mason's number as an emergency contact. So the call didn't go through.

But I heard her. She was saying, "Mom. Mom, wake up."

I woke up and looked at my phone to see what time it was. And saw there were three phone calls from his number.

When I talked to her a couple days later, she TOLD me that she had closed her eyes and sent out with all she had, "Mom, wake up."

That stuff runs in the family.
It's not out and on view all the time, but now and then, it comes in handy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fire marshall has determined the official cause of the fire.
The chimney 'professional' who charged them nearly one thousand dollars to inspect/repair their chimney put paper-backed insulation against the stove pipe. Alllll along it. The paper was clearly stamped 'FLAMMABLE do not put near a heat source'.

I don't know what will happen with that. I know that I want to go there and find the guy and tear his head off with my bare hands.

The fact that it's not likely that I could ever do it doesn't stop me from wanting to, though.

She's okay. Mason is okay. Pixel is okay.
I'm grateful.

Where there's smoke

Eric had me send some smoke alarms to Lyssa and her guy on January 8th.

I've been obsessing about them since.
I don't know why. It's a thing I do.

The nimrod who delivered them tossed them in the back of a truck or something, I can't actually remember. Lyssa went out in the cold and rain while we were messaging online, and got them.

Last night we were chatting via instant message and she told me they'd had the chimney inspected during the afternoon. They had not been having fires as they were awaiting an inspection and cleaning.

When she told me she had a nice fire going and it was warm,  I asked her if she'd installed the smoke alarms.

"Yes Mom."

We had a conversation about how a mom loves and worries about her children forever and signed off.

A little over four hours later, she called to let me know those smoke alarms had saved their lives.

The 'it's fine and in good shape' chimney didn't do its job and the house burned down.

They escaped in their pajamas, no shoes. No coats. Nothing.
Their cat is still missing.
As I write this, they're staying with Mason's family.
Not an optimum situation.

I don't know any details about insurance. I don't know much else than what I said here.

I can tell you those smoke detectors were the best 50 bucks I ever spent.
I'm grateful to have my daughter still around.

More trouble... same double

James seems intent on making life difficult for himself. And everyone around him.


On Wednesday afternoon he was just... rude. Obnoxious. Aggravating. His dad picked the boys up, and we didn't get much time to talk.

So I wrote a little email to his mom.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's always hard to have any sort of conversation at pickup time.

I did tell James Sr as quietly as possible this afternoon that I'd had some issues with James, but it's more than an afternoon with a couple issues.

Not sure if it's end of school year blues combined with attitude or???

Most mornings he's a little crabby. He annoys people one by one. Each person asks him to leave them alone. But usually I have to reinforce their requests multiple times,and then get a little stern for him to do what they've asked.

He comes in after school already unhappy. I'm not sure why. But from the set of his shoulders and the little tucked lines next to his mouth, he's had a long day.

Then, he goes around the room aggravating people. Pretending to knock over someone's block tower construction, ignoring multiple requests to stop, stealing stuffed animals from behind the person playing with them and then saying he didn't,  'accidentally' kicking people under the snack table and then blaming the other person, calling people names like stupid and jerk and denying ALL of it each time I say, "James, we don't do that here."

"I WASN'T!!!!"

"Dude. You know I can see you, right?"

It doesn't matter though.

He can do it, know that I see him doing it and will deny it until the end of time. Today, after I asked him to 'please leave the other kids alone,' he said he wasn't bothering anyone, I said 'I can see you' and he told me I was a 'stupid liar'.

When I force the issue, "James, you need to leave that area and find another activity, please. You're not being kind and he has asked you to stop pretending to knock over his blocks," he says,  "I didn't TOUCH them!!"

"That's not the point. You are bothering him, he asked you to stop several times and you haven't. Please find another activity."

He sits and glares at me. Makes faces. The other kids point it out, I tell them that James can look silly if he wants to, and repeat on an endless loop.

I sometimes have to ask him many times.
And then TELL him that he must find a different activity. Now.

What I have tried.. I try to make sure to check with every child at the end of the school day. Ask them questions about how their day was, tell them I saw them on the playground when I came in to work, what did you have for lunch, come here and let me tie your shoes,  I love that shirt.

You know, positive interaction. After everyone is checked in and snack put out for them, I'm available for a game of checkers or whatever. Craft projects. Commentary on LEGO creations, cheerful joking around.

I have tried suggesting something for him to do. Showing him the new books I've picked up at Goodwill in hopes that he might want to sit alone a few minutes and decompress.

I make an effort to do what I ask of the children, too. To be kind in our interactions and try to suggest/redirect rather than being bossy.

I'm always trying to pay attention to what's going on  with all the kids, too. To stop situations before they escalate.

I'm just not sure which direction to go with this and wanted to let you guys know what's been going on with James.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His mom emailed me back. He's not just a handful for me. She apologized, saying that she is sorry I have to deal with him this way and that she appreciates my patience with the kids.

I responded with something along the lines of that it's all part of the job and that I don't take it personally.

I really don't. It's kid stuff. He's not a problem, he just has stuff going on.
There are many nice things about James.
My personal opinion is that he's having a hard time being 'good' all day long in school and feels comfortable enough with me that he sort of goes waaaay in the opposite direction of expected behaviors.
Being a twin has a whole set of issues, too.
Not having anything that's just his. Having people call him by his brother's name. Often. And they're not James and Hayden to most of the kids and adults, they're 'the twins'. He has to share everything all the time.

I've said it before, but when a kid feels comfortable being their worst in front of me, it's actually a compliment.

Not that I like dealing with it, but I do understand it. And James, like so many other kids I've taken care of, will eventually outgrow the issues that are making the adults around him a little edgy.

Today was a little better, but he still can't seem to leave other people alone. He gets in their personal space. He deliberately tries to aggravate people. Breaks rules on the playground, even when I'm looking right at him.

He also comes and gives me a brief hug a few times in an afternoon.

Best moments of the week with James?

He was really excited on Tuesday when he read his first book from beginning to end.
Green Eggs and Ham.

He walked in the door after school, book open, reading each word quietly, completely ignoring the chaos around him. Climbed into one of the tall chairs, still reading. When he finished the book, he clapped it shut with an air of great satisfaction,  skipped across the room and bounced to a stop next to me.

"Guess what?!?" he said.

I knew, but acted like I didn't.

"What?"

"I just read this WHOLE BOOK!"

We high-fived.


I told him, "Dude. That is the first book I ever read to myself!"

He was suitably impressed.

Then, I told him it was also the first book that Lyssa had ever read from beginning to end.

I told him the story of how she'd read it to the whole family and how excited we all were.

"Then, she ran off to her room. About five minutes later, she came back to the living room in a costume she'd made, carrying her book and her teddy bear."

"I. AM. SUPER READER!!"

"I took a picture of her, James. I'll try to remember to bring it in to show you."

Today, I did. And although that photo is now 21 years old, it's still one of my favorites.
 

James was happy to see the photo. He asked if he could show it around to the other kids. I watched as he went from person to person and told them an abbreviated version of the story I'd told him.

When his mom came to get him, he couldn't wait to show her the picture and tell her that I first learned to read from that book AND my daughter did, too!

James is a neat kid in a lot of ways.
And we'll get through the crazy, I'm sure.
But I have to admit I'm looking forward to summer. He doesn't go to day care during summers.

Snew

Haha, "what's snew?"

Nothing. What's new with you?

The Snow Fairy has arrived in Portland. A smartass of my (intimate) acquaintance told me to expect a little over six inches. "And," he added, "it might snow, too."

What could be worse than a man who thinks he's funny?

So things have been interesting at work, as they always are. I've told myself at least a dozen times that I will need to write about something, and then I get home and I'm cold and I'm tired and hungry and get busy watching something on the Momcave television and before I know it, it's 9 and time for bed. Getting up at 5 is just too damn early for me. I will always hate it. Most days I nap between shifts, but if I could have stayed in bed another hour or hour and a half, I wouldn't need to. The idea of going to bed at 7:30 or 8 is usually just too crazy even for me. But sometimes I wonder if that would work. Sleep by 7:45, get up and 5 and NOT feel like a zombie.

Sad, but the idea has its attraction.

So one of my kids (not mentioning names, even though I never use the real name of child here) has an absent father. My understanding is that it's a pattern with this guy, who has an ex wife and two kids in another state, an ex wife and two kids in THIS state and a girlfriend and her two kids that he's living with in still another state.

This young person was picked up from my program after school a little over a week ago to go take a vacation with his dad and the latest woman. You'd think a dad who only sees his kid every six months or so would just accept the kid as he is, however he looks. Whatever choice he makes about his hair. But nope. As they left the room,the first words out of Dad's mouth were, "That hair. I don't know."

Because the kid is growing his hair out so he can have what he calls 'a man bun'. I think it looks funny but it's not my hair.

It's more of a whatever for me.

::shrug:::

I'm always curious about what makes people dye their hair blue or pierce their nose or get 20 tattoos, but I don't care about it, I just wonder. I'd never offend anyone by asking, because of course it would sound like I'm judging.

I do judge people now and then, I think we all do.
But not based on something like appearance.

This guy growing his hair out is just self expression.

While I was writing that, I remembered the time Lyssa asked me to help her dye her hair. My mom was scandalized, a leftover from the dark ages way of thinking, but I wasn't offended.

I understand why she thought that way, even though I didn't agree with her and we did the dye thing. That 'mild' foamy hair coloring preparation wasn't mild at all. Lyssa's hair was chemically shredded for awhile, but it grew out. She still looked awfully cute, though. :)

I applaud this guy's mom for just letting him do whatever he wants with his hair. But I'm sure he heard more than once over the vacation that he should get it cut.
When he returned from his trip, he had a horrible, horrible cough. One of the worst ones I've ever heard. Dry and constant. When I came back to school on Thursday afternoon, he was in the office getting some medical attention. They notified me that he'd had to use his inhaler more than once that day.

He ended up on his knees on the floor during snack time, coughing so hard he retched. I called his mom and let her know that he was having difficulties. She came to get him as early as she could, and they were heading to the urgent care for some real cough syrup as soon as they left.

I wasn't surprised on Friday morning when she called and let me know that he wouldn't be in school at all on Friday.

And now it looks like none of us will be in school for most of the week. We have about four inches of snow now, and more is expected. Although it seems crazy to the rest of the world, this area shuts down when we have this kind of weather.

The problem is that much of our snow turns to ice.
We get freezing rain over the top of it and it's simply ludicrous to have school buses and kids out in it. It's nothing like the snow we had when we lived in Colorado. I hate not being at work for the week, but I'm glad we're mostly safe here at home. And that my kids are, too.

So the next post I'm working on contains (cue scary music here)
GIRL DRAMA!!

::sigh::

Never a dull moment, as they say.

I have all this stuff!!

I have a ton of things to say. I can't seem to make myself sit down and write it. I need to, though. Not writing makes me spiritually constipated. Who the hell needs that???

So let's see here.

I'm missing my kids. My own, I mean. This time of year, with both of them, was those few precious weeks after they were born. Matt was born on June 22nd, Lyssa almost exactly six years later on June 18th. If you care sufficiently to do the math, this tells you that there were two Labor Day weekends that we really had nothing else to do.

They were little blobs of humanity that made adorable squeaking noises and smiled in their sleep. Melted my heart every time. It was such an amazing thing to hold those tiny people. One of my friends, who reproduced long before I did, told me in her first few exhausting days as a mom, "I thought I knew what love was, then I had Lindsey."

I smiled and listened to her tell me how wonderful that baby was. And she was, too. Sweet and round and pink, perfect skin. Angelic smile.
But I didn't really get it until I made one of my own. I doubt anyone really does until that point.

Those first few weeks they spent snuggled up and listening to my heartbeat and sleeping, mostly. Or demanding food and more snuggling in the middle of the night. I wish I'd known more with baby #1, I would have done things a little differently. But of course #1 is always the experimental model. I'm glad Matt was resilient in so many ways.

So I'm missing the babies.

I miss the adults they've become, too, but I'm not sad.

The adults they became are out in the world, being decent people.
I'm so proud of them both.

But early summer when the skies are that gorgeous deep blue, the flowers are blooming, July 4th approaching, I remember those babies and how it felt to hold them and how full my heart was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So work is proceeding as it usually does, I am not a huge fan of summer programs being run by this organization.

The summer site where I am working is okay in a few ways, but mostly a Mongolian Clusterfuck.

I had a little difficulty at first keeping my mouth quiet (or mostly so). But I will speak out when it's in the best interest of children, so I have had a little to say to our slightly-older-than-a-teenager summer director.

Mary's a nice person. And just because she's young doesn't mean she's stupid. She isn't. But she *is* a bit clueless.

I finally decided that I can ignore a lot of stupidity and airheadedness. Yes, I know that isn't a word that's currently in the dictionary, but I know what it means and admit it, you read it and you know, too. So that makes it a word.

Last week, a boy introduced himself to me. Shook hands, was polite and mature and friendly. This was observed by the camp director and her friends. Er, co-workers.

When I walked back over to finish setting up the painting project, Mary joined me. She said, "Yeah, Jerry has issues. He is disrespectful and hard to manage. Now that he's on medication, it's better, but he's a lot of trouble here."

I said something noncommittal, she wandered away to do something else and I finished what I was working on.

I didn't have a lot of interaction with him that day, he doesn't seem to really love art projects. He likes building things and running and knocking things over and acting like a child. I haven't seen him cause any trouble.

The next morning, Jerry came in with his dad. He got busy with his friends right away, building something in the corner. His dad walked over to Mary, they chatted for a moment, then Dad pulled a medication bottle out of his pocket. He popped the lid off, said, "Give him this at lunchtime," dumped a pill into her hand, stuffed the bottle back into his pocket and sauntered out the door.

She walked to the cup dispenser, got a paper cup, dropped the pill into the cup and put the pill in an unlocked and accessible-to-children cabinet.

Oh my god.

So I immediately walked to her and asked if we could talk.
"This is your site and your program, and I won't tell you how I think it should run or how you should do things. But what you just did is a very serious licensing violation. This is one that can get you shut down."

She looked surprised.
"What?" she said. "What violation?"

So I explained the childcare division rules about prescription (and non prescription) medications.

The medicine needs to be in a container labeled by the pharmacy with the child's name, prescribing physician, dosage etc. And is to be accompanied with a note from the doctor with instructions for administering the medication. A piece of paper goes into the ziplock bag with the bottle with a place for the staff person to initial and document the fact that the child has indeed been given the medication on schedule and as prescribed. And all of those things need to be in a LOCKED medication box.

This is not a procedure with any wiggle room. A person with a brain should know this. A person who is responsible for the safety of children has to know this.

And now she does.

To her credit, she thanked me for the information. She said that all the information/training she has has happened through watching what other people do. That she had no idea.

Oh good heavens.

They've failed to make sure kids are sunscreened, something else I brought up. Those kids spend FOUR HOURS a day outdoors.

Because they don't have enough things for them to do indoors and they lack the creativity and experience to find those things.

Since this isn't my first experience with summer camp, I do have that experience. A ton of it. I won't bore you with the list of what I brought again, but I will tell you that even with six large bins of art supplies and building materials, I am still understocked. But I'm working three days a week, I'm able to use the stuff I brought for multiple uses, and I'm able to relate to kids, regardless of location.

It's crazy, but I can manage to hang out there for the rest of summer. It won't be my favorite placement ever, but it will work. More or less.

There are other things driving me insane.
I can't leave my stuff out when I go home. I brought plastic storage bins and some boxes, and when I leave, all my yarn and other things get packed up. A lot of it comes home with me. I keep it in the trunk and unload it as needed.

I made the mistake of handing a small bin of yarn to Mary one day as I left, saying, "This is only for adults to hand out, I want to try to keep my supplies for some other projects."

When I returned to site the next time, two of my skeins of yarn were hopelessly tangled and cut in so many places it was impossible to get a piece of yarn more than two feet long, one was missing completely, and one had somehow ended up in the art room at the other end of the hallway.

I didn't bother saying anything to Mary and the Minions. Since I'd already made it clear that I expected it to be taken care of and they weren't able to manage that, it seemed sort of pointless to bring it up.

I just don't leave my yarn there now.

There's more to say. But damn. Getting close to bedtime.
Next time, okay?

                                                                                                                                                    

Just a little baby

While we were getting ready for bed on Wednesday night, I heard a little squeaky, raspy sound out front.

I told Eric, "It sounds like a kitten." He agreed.

He went outside with a flashlight, wandered around the front yard for about 10 minutes and found nothing.

We heard the little thing all night long. And he went outside at least four or five more times, looking for it.

As soon as he got to the end of the yard, the noise would stop. Every time.

While we were in the house getting ready for work, we could hear it. It was sounding pretty hoarse. We could tell that whatever it was had no reserves left. It sounded so weak. And helpless. So after it got light out and it was time to go to work, we both went out again, seeing if we could see anything.

Nothing. As soon as we got to the end of the yard, the noises stopped.

Nothing else we could do. Neither one of us slept worth a damn during the night and we'd tried. Got into our respective vehicles and drove off in the usual opposite directions.

When I walked into work, my business phone was ringing.

Eric.

"Mental Daycare Inc."

"Well, I found it."

"You did?? What? Where?"

"It's a kitten. It was in the engine of my truck."

"Oh no. Oh my god, is it dead?"

"Nope. Just has a little oil on it. I got out of my truck to get coffee and could hear it under the hood."

So we figured that he'd take the baby back home and hand it off to our daughter to take care of until the animal shelter opened.

I came home after my shift and checked up on it. Tiny little thing, about the size of a beanie baby.

After Lyssa looked it up on the internet we figured it was about three weeks old.

Lyssa said it had hissed and scratched and been fearful when she first tried to handle it, but that it had calmed down.

This is what the little thing looked like.

When Eric handed it off to her, it was lethargic and not doing very well, I'm sure that had something to do with the stress of losing its mom (we don't know what happened to the mother or how the little one was abandoned) and then crying all night long and getting no response. Oh, and taking a ten minute ride inside the engine compartment of a Ford F-150 after all of that.

One more little stress factor... Eric had put it in the cab of the truck to bring it back home, it was freaked out and hid up behind the glove box. It crawled into some sort of hole back there and Eric had to tear off some of the stuff inside the truck to get to it.

So it was panicky and shaking and at the end of its endurance when he brought it home.

It wasn't even weaned yet, had no idea what to do with food or milk until Lyssa got a dropper to feed it. Then it knew what to do.

Here's the thing. Sometimes, particularly when he's running a little late like he was on Thursday morning, he doesn't stop for coffee. If he hadn't, he would have driven the 30+ minutes to work and that little baby would have died from the heat in the engine compartment. Either that or it would have fallen out and been crushed on the highway.

So we couldn't keep it.
We don't want a cat, there are allergies in the family, and having no pets is working very well for us right now.

I called the animal shelter from the parking lot OF the animal shelter about 8 on Thursday. It's on my way home from work. But I got their answering service, because get this... they don't even open until noon! There were cars all over the parking lot, animal control trucks leaving the lot, dogs barking. But the person on the other end of the phone said that unless it was an emergency, they don't open until noon.

What the hell are my tax dollars being spent on? They charge a ridiculous amount just for the privilege of owning a pet in this county, too. Gah.

So after stopping here at home for a few minutes to check in with Lyssa and the baby,  I went to the monthly site director meeting on the other damn side of town.

When I came home, Lyssa had zipped the little critter into her sweatshirt and they were both napping.

It stayed in her sweatshirt while we drove to the animal shelter and snuggled up with her until she handed it off to the person there.

We learned while waiting that it will be fostered until it's ready to be adopted. There was a lady there with a pet carrier full of kittens. She's a kitty foster parent. The kittens she had looked very much like the one we brought in, only quite a bit bigger and more mature. She said they were about ready to be adopted.

I know that kittens are easy to find homes for. And one advantage of getting a cat from a shelter, you're required to have it spayed/neutered. So you don't end up with abandoned babies in truck engines.

So I am pretty sure the story will have a happy ending. I'm glad the little thing wasn't eaten by a raccoon or some other animal while it cried outside our house all night, and glad Lyssa was home to try to take care of it. Although if she hadn't been home, I would have had to miss the site director meeting to take care of things, so there's that.

I didn't understand when I was younger why it was important to spay and neuter pets.

I posted a photo of the little thing on FB with a small amount of the story and a hope that people will take care of that little operation with their adopted critters.

I'm not a cat person.
But it was awfully hard to see Lyssa hand that baby off to the lady at the shelter.

She's baa-aackk...

A little after 10 last night I got to hug my girl for the first time since June 8.
The airport is always an interesting place, so many people wandering around even in the middle of the night. I was surprised at the number of children I saw. School started today in my old district, but it started last week in a couple others. My own starts tomorrow.

Lyssa was originally supposed to be on a flight that got in around noon, but missed that first flight. They rescheduled her and didn't charge her anything extra.

I'm glad to have her home.

Today is set up day for me at my new program and I don't have time to say a whole lot. I'm sleepy, my eyes are all puffy and it's time to get in the shower.
I'll take some photos of my space if I can manage it, not sure if there's identifying information displayed, I haven't had a great deal of time to look around.

So that's the news. She's home. I'm sleepy. And now I'm zipping outa here.

Updates

Lyssa arrived safely at her destination.
I didn't sleep deeply last night until I got that text saying she was on the ground. I immediately texted her back to let me know when she arrived at his house, but she forgot until this morning. I'm sure she was wiped out, it was a long day and traveling always makes a person tired, I think. It was a relief to hear from her, though. We texted a bit today. Hope she texts tomorrow, I will be texting her a lot, too.

I may have been slightly tired this morning. I felt like I'd been hit by a truck, really. And I've BEEN hit by a truck before. It's not a fun experience.

I visited the 'go get a 2nd opinion' doctor this morning.
He said I do need surgery, but not the horrendous 14 week recovery surgery. So that's good news. I am not sure yet what's going to be done, and have to go back to my regular guy and discuss, so I'm not sure what will happen or when.

I am really trying to just get through the rest of the school year.

Tami had surgery today to fix a little problem. It's not a fun thing, getting your knee operated on, but hopefully it will fix the issues she's been having and give her some relief. I was glad to get the text from Joseph telling me she was alive and well. She texted me this evening, too. If one can sound tired in a text, that would be her. Get better fast, Tami. :)

Mabel did okay at my site today, although she really is very physically incapable she's kind to the children and has a sense of humor. She seemed to enjoy hanging out with us. I'll have her with me until the last day of school apparently.

One of my little K guys LOVES making things. So when we have a craft, he's super excited. It was his last afternoon with me, his grandparents are coming to town, and his dad came to pick him up before we made our craft. He burst into tears. His dad ended up playing on the playground for about a half hour with his little sister so David could make a bug out of a milk jug lid.

So that's what's up.
I can't talk about some of the work stuff, but once again the shit's about to hit the fan. This time it has nothing to do with me, but I'll be on the sidelines eating popcorn, believe me.

Over the river....

And through the woods... I'm sure your mind is already singing the rest of the song. Yes?

We packed up our little car and headed for John Day, Oregon on the evening of the 23rd. Lyssa and I had dental appointments in Sandy that afternoon, although in retrospect, once we'd decided to spend our Christmas away from home, (Eric's idea a couple weeks ago) we should have canceled the appointments.

Thing was, Lyssa was gone for almost a year and did not see a dentist in that time, so I wanted to make sure we kept her appointment.

I hadn't gone, either. I kept putting off the six month checkup until a whole year had passed for me, too.

It's about a four and a half hour drive to my parent's house from Sandy when the weather is good.

However, we were required to chain up the car to go up Mt. Hood. I say 'we', but it was my husband out there kneeling in the ice and snow, putting chains on our tires next to the road while the invincible people with 4wd and a deathwish whizzed by like fucking maniacs. At least he was on the passenger side of the car when the vehicle that sprayed our entire car with slush and ice passed. Assholes.

Eric never complains about the things he's forced to do to take care of his family, either. Just thought I'd add here that I married an amazing man.

When we got to the top, traffic was at a standstill. Apparently big trucks trying to come up the OTHER side could not get up the hill and they were towing them. One. At. A. Time. While traffic just sat. And sat. And sat. We ended up on the road for 9.5 hours. Possibly we were a little tired and more than a little crabby when we arrived at our destination at about 20 minutes past midnight. It was friggin' freezing, snow and ice and clear skies.

Checked in at our motel, then took Lyssa up to my mom and dad's house. She decided to take advantage of their guest room (she and my mom are particularly close) and we decided to sleep in a big bed in a quiet place.

Matt and Amy were able to come for Christmas, too, but we did not tell my parents they'd be there. They arrived about noon on Christmas Day. I was cooking in the kitchen and saw them approaching the door. I made them stand in the kitchen for a moment so I could go around the other way and see the look on my mom's face when they walked in. Her mouth fell open and stayed open for a good 30 seconds. A nice surprise.

There's more. We had a lovely time with family, sang some songs and opened presents and ate way more sugar than we should. More of everything else, too.

But those are things that are mostly interesting to me.
However, "they" say a picture is worth, well, a lot.
So here are a few.

Me with Mom and Dad. And Daisy. Who is not a dog, but a Tasmanian Devil.
My stupid brother thought it would be a good idea to get two elderly people who don't get around very well a Jack Russell Fucking Terrier about six years ago.

Alyssa, Matt, Amy, Me, My parents. And the Devil.

My son, his lovely wife, my parents and the devil's back.

My beautiful daughter

There was some snow.

The tie dyed pajama shirt I made for Mom. You can see my dad in the background, wearing one I made for him about a hundred years ago.

 

I have a new assistant.

Alyssa is back to work.

That's the best news of the week in my opinion. I've missed having her there.

I have a very sweet assistant who's been with me since March of last year who was anxious to cut her hours a bit. She asked to stop working mornings in September, naming an October 10th date as her 'final' morning shift.
She's a full time college student and needed more time to devote to homework as well as the fact that she drives about a mile further than I do each way. I don't mind the 8 miles to and from, twice a day. Haha... it's why I make the big bucks. (that last was sarcasm, by the way... the people who do the actual work don't make much in the way of hourly wages. My real compensation is the insurance. Good thing, since after it's been taken out of my wages, there isn't much left.)
Due to a crazy hiring process with our company, Lyssa's application took more than a month to go through. I've heard that before. Instead of making the process more streamlined, they've further complicated it until it's truly amazing that anyone still wants to work there by the time they actually get hired. If I were desperate for a job, I certainly wouldn't wait until they managed to process my app.

I have had a series of assistants out there at my school. All of them have been nice people, most of them a lot younger than I am. I have not had one who wasn't good. They have been good with the kids, punctual and reliable. Helpful. I've been fortunate, some of the horror stories I've heard from other site directors has made me appreciative.

But none of my other assistants have been as good with the kids as Lyssa is. She just has the knack. She can see what's going on in a situation, knows when to intervene and what to say. Sometimes a situation escalates quickly, and you sort of have to get a feel for what might happen. It's easier to act than to REact, if that makes sense. Stop it before it really gets started. She's good at it, which makes my job easier.

And the kids have missed her so much. Many assistants have come and gone, and sometimes they express regret over one moving on, but with Lyssa, they have never forgotten her. They ask about her constantly, and have said so many times how much they miss her. She understands them so well and is so approachable for them. The kids who hadn't met her were filled in by the ones who had, and several of them expressed the wish that they'd been in my program when Lyssa was still there.

She wanted to surprise them by returning to work, so I didn't tell them she was home. She started the application process while she was still in North Carolina. At the beginning of the week this week, she was still 'somewhere' in the process.

And Tuesday afternoon, literally 20 minutes before I was ready to leave for work, our manager called and asked if she could come in. She hadn't eaten, there were some other issues going on and she didn't really feel up to it, but she said yes.

It was so much fun to see the looks on their faces. She got a lot of hugs.

The next morning, the morning kids were just as happy to see her. Jennifer was particularly pleased. But she reacted in a funny way. She saw Lyssa and blushed. And then she was so flummoxed she didn't even go talk to her at first. It was very cute.

Of course she's back to her usual bossy self now, telling Lyssa that her dog weighs 450 lbs and arguing over the fact that the game is called Chess, not Chest. "It sounds the same, so it is."

But I'm so pleased to have her back.

If she wanted to pursue a career working with children, she'd be pretty good at it, that's for sure.

Meanwhile, I am lucky to have her there.

OK. Shower and groceries and baking and cleaning on tap this weekend. Laundry. Drawing some pictures. Trying to finish so I can set up my art area in the back bedroom.

Domestic stuff.

During this next week, there is no school. A prospect which pleases me greatly.
I am off work completely on Monday, and work some short hours on Tuesday and Wednesday. Matt and Amy will be here for dinner on Thursday. That means I need to do a lot of cooking between now and then, doesn't it?

Good thing I like it.