Green's Hill-Amy Lane's Home - News

Sunday, November 29, 2009

A touch of rugrat...

Okay-- I've got some decent kid stories--the hard part is remembering them! Hmmm... Funniest first:

We went to see Trans-Siberian-Orchestra last night--it was nine buckets of awesome and one bucket of "Dammit, does Arco Arena have to have THE must uncomfortable seats on the planet?" Stepmom bought tickets for Mate & me & the big kids, and the big kids were ENTHRALLED--too. awesome. for words.

But if the big kids were with us, and we were with parents, where (you might be asking) were the short people?

It was a new experience for them, really--in Zoom Boy's memory, at least. They had a BABYSITTER! In fact they had two--and as I was going to pick up my victims, I mean my students, I mean their babysitters, Ladybug was unclear on the concept.

"I wanna babysit!"

"You can't, sweets--they're the baby sitters. You're the baby they're going to sit on!"

"They can't sit on me! They'll squash me!"

"They're small girls--they won't be that heavy at all!"

We dialoged like this all the way down to pick up the girls and I'd almost forgotten about it until we got home. When we got home, and my two intrepid babysitters got out of the car, Ladybug got a really good look at them and realized, OMG, they're adult sized!

"Mama! They can't sit on me! THEY'RE TOO BIG!!!!"

THAT story's going to make the rounds at school, I'm sure!

Zoom boy found one of Chicken's old art books--it's a fingerprint book. You make a fingerprint and then draw little faces on it--for a first grader? it's art MAGIC! The cute thing is, we didn't have any stamp pads, so I asked Mate to get *ONE* on his way back from an errand.


Apparently, Mate still has a little first grader in him--because he came back with *FIVE*--in rainbow colors. Zoom Boy spent two hours, making fingerprint pictures. I cannot convey the absolute adorablenes of him lying on the kitchen floor, art utensil in hand, creating a masterpiece. He's gonna be something brilliant and skeery, just mark my words.

The big kids can check their grades on computer from home. I think this is THE worst invention of the 20th century. There is NOTHING worse than kicking back with your kids on Thanksgiving vacation to find out that one of them tanked an Algebra test and got a bad grade on a paper she worked REALLY hard on! The thing is, she had no empowerment at all--no teacher to ask, no way to figure out how to fix it. All she could do was waste precious moments of much needed brain-recharge, weeping.

Have I mentioned my burning hatred of modern education? I think it's worth repeating. I know my own students have done this and I tell them not to. We can fix it when we're at school--when we're at home, we have other concerns.

Have I mentioned that we're going to try to get Big T professional driving lessons for his birthday/Christmas? I'll be sure to tell you all when to get off the road. I know most of you are out of state, but still... given my own track record in an automobile, you just can't be too careful.

Oh yes--one more charming story. My babysitters (SWEETEST girls on the planet!) were so cute when I told them Mate was going to drop them off. "His car is cooler than mine anyway."

"Oh naw, Ms. Lane. NO car is cooler than the minivan!" J'et adore!

Friday, November 27, 2009

I am Eggplant

Okay--it was great in a 'strategy planned like a military general' kind of way. We took two cars because we agreed to pick up and drop off Alexa (my biological mom) and if we had all gone in one car, it would have meant the kids would have been hauled around for more than 120 miles. As it was, I picked her up, we all met at my aunt Teresa's for a large to-do with multiple parts of the family, and then Mate took her home while I took the kids to dad & stepmom's for a smaller celebration, where he would meet us later--and that might have been perfect, except...

Except my older aunt, the one who's lived all over the globe, and who was the spoiled older sister when she lived at home and who had nannies and servants when she was raising her own children and who has yet to realize that the world does NOT revolve around her, asked me if Mate could drop of my grandmother too.

Now dropping off my grandmother was a job for my uncle--his family lives five, maybe ten minutes away from her. She wanted to go home early--about the time when we were leaving, and instead of asking them if they were ready to leave yet, older aunt thought, "Hey--this way, I don't have to do any thinking or helping myself," and asked me if we could do her a favor.

I did a brave thing. I said, "No."

I said, "No" not because I felt like being a bitch, but because it was nearly an hour out of Mate's way, and we had another meal waiting on us. Unlike our first stop, where we were one of many families at the table, our second meal was ONLY us and dad & stepmom. Stepmom worked all day, and Daddy offered to cook dinner while she was gone, and Mate & the kids had already dropped off the fixins (while I was picking up biological mom) so I could add to the meal when the kids and I got there. The plan was, Stepmom would get home, we'd have a half-an-hour of amicable prep, and, voila--for once, she wouldn't have to do all the work. The grandmother who passed away last month was Stepmom's mother--this was a nice way for her to have some family around her for Thanksgiving and not have too much stress, which she didn't need.

So I said "No." And older aunt took advantage of the time when I was rounding up the kids and went and got Mate and asked him behind my back, because Mate's a nice guy, and she knew he wouldn't say "No" to her. And because he didn't realize that the entire family would be waiting dinner for him (he didn't realize how small the celebration would be--not his fault, mine, but there are things women know about family celebrations that men don't know all the time) he agreed to drive over an hour out of his way. By the time I realized what she had done, I was behind the wheel and watching in surprise as older aunt was loading grandma AND Alex into Mate's car.

So we waited dinner an hour, because my "No" wasn't good enough.

Now this didn't really sour my meals at all--I loved being with my family, and yesterday was wonderful in that way. The celebration with Daddy & my stepmom was very sweet, and stepmom got to play cards when it was over (I napped--I was EXHAUSTED) and everybody--including the kids-- were VERY happy. It was really the best sort of Thanksgiving, all things considered.

So I didn't let it wreck anything important--but I will be very prepared in the future. Because it wasn't fair--it wasn't. I rarely say "No." The fact that I've been splitting my holiday time between two-three families since I was very small is proof that I've learned to accommodate a variety of people's needs and to try to make as many people happy as possible. So I don't say "No," a lot--and I thought that would make it significant enough for the people in my family to listen.

The fact that it wasn't means that next time I will have to say it louder.

But that was yesterday. Today was the part I really savor. Today, we did a short spate of housecleaning and a lot of leftover eating. I sat on the couch and slept and watched Buffy and let the little kids sit in my lap and knit and knit and knit. I felt my body recover from another busy week, from months with too much worry and work and not enough sleep, from feeling like I MUST be doing something ALL THE TIME. It was awesome.

Yesterday I was empowered mother/daughter/wife, organizing like a general, and the results were worth it.

Today I was eggplant--a massive purple vegetable, and I was happy today too.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Happy Thanksgiving!

Tomorrow I shall probably meditate on things to be grateful for--and it will last all day. (It's easier to meditate on a full stomach--but I think I'd believe it anyway, just sitting on the couch w/kids on my lap.)

Anyway, I am actually still sick (blargh) but the only thing really left of the flu is just being really really tired. (This could also be the result of getting less than five hours of sleep a night for four months running... the body sometimes just kicks it's own ass with love, doesn't it!) I've made most of my contributions (with Chicken's help) to two family feasts, and I'm knackered. That being said, I'm going to leave you with the following bits of weirdness, because a good chuckle is always something to be thankful for:

Monday, November 23, 2009

Last Random News Bite

Good News: I pushed send for Rampant into the publishers today.
Bad news: Area 51 was every bit as corny as I thought it would be.
Good news: I don't care.

That's all, folks!

Random News

* Good news--Gave myself permission to be sick this weekend. That's worked out well for me.

* Bad news--Poor Mate. He's on vacation too--and he REALLY wanted to go out to a movie last night. I really wanted to sit on the chair feeling wretched and knitting. I won.

* Good news--We did get to go grocery shopping together though. Go us!

* Good news--I finished the 'Adrian' short!

* More good news--I submitted it to that place that sent me the courtship letter.

* Bad news--this means it's not going up on the website until they reject it. Sorry!

* Good news--I can send it to you if you ask REALLY REALLY nicely.

* Good news--Started the Promise Rock sequel!

* Bad news--May have to change the name of one of the leads of Keeping Promise Rock! My editor is being VERY VERY patient with me as I angst over this, but Dek and Deacon look too much alike on the page for the editing team's peace of mind. What's angsting me out (and you probably have this figured out already) is that they're not just names, they're PEOPLE, and swapping out the people is really disturbing.

* More bad news--the one name sub that I liked best was actually the name of a minor character. So I'm not swapping out one name, I'm swapping two. Or I'm naming Dek 'Carrick' and changing it to 'Crick' (the shortened nickname is really crucial. I don't know. I sort of like the Crick thing. Sounds Cricked.

* Good news--we've been making steady progress on the Buffy front. Great show. Wish I'd watched it in its prime.

* Good news--I get to submit Rampant today!

* Bad news--I have to find my wallet in the mess!

* Good news--Zoom Boy has discovered crafting with construction paper!

* Bad news--see above. The kitchen looked like a Michael's exploded.

* Good news--Ladybug is still cute.

* Bad news--She knows it. You should have heard her flirting with the dentist. "And I have two cats. Dennis Quaid and Gordie! I chase after them and hurt them--that's bad. They scratch me when I do that. But they still love me. The dog loves me too. I love my cats. My mom tells me not to chase the cats but I still do. My brother gets mad when I chase the cats, and he won't let me play with my toys..." Seriously--fifteen minutes of this with a complete stranger. I'm surprised they even got a chance to look at her teeth she talked so much! She talked more to that dentist in her fourth visit than the rest of my kids have talked to a health care professional in their entire lifetimes combined. I mean DAMN.

* Good news--In spite of her rather heinous overbite, the dentist has still not yelled at me about letting her suck her thumb well past the age of three. I guess cuteness really DOES rule the world!

* Good news--Zoom Boy has a loose tooth.

* More good news--he likes GETTING money but has yet to figure out he gets to spend it. It's like giving ourselves a dollar!

* Even more good news--the dentist gave him his X-rays, loose tooth and all. Okay, it's good news because *I* think they're cool to look at.

* Good news--Mate has the day off.

* Good news--We're going to go see 'The Fantastic Mr. Fox' today. It's not a date, but it is a movie. I hope Mate is pleased.

* Good news--Chicken had her soccer banquet yesterday. Parents vs. kids at the indoor soccer ring--apparently Mate kicked ass. (The theme of the day seemed to be putting the beat down on your own kid. Chicken felt appropriately abused.)

* Bad news--the soccer banquet did not (repeat: NOT) signal the actual END of soccer. She still has practice tonight. (!!!!) Apparently the fun carries on until December.

* Good news-- Seven more days of vacation. *ah*

Friday, November 20, 2009

Meet The Beast...

And the beast is me.

Seriously. I've been a snarling, bitchy, horrible beast this last week... and it's funny. I think I finally figured out what my problem is.

Uhm... It's November and I teach high school. O.M.G. Do I truly need any other reason? Okay... well, my small people are also tired and have been clingy like leeches and my big people haven't stopped talking in five days and I haven't had more than ten seconds of writing and/or knitting time to myself in the last two weeks and Supernatural just ripped my heart into tiny pieces and THEN WENT ON HIATUS (damn them... angel faced brothers with kiss-me mouths. Isn't there some sort of public property law that says anything that hot MUST be available on television to feed the masses? Wait...I'm off track...) and I LOST another iPod and...

And it's November, I have children, and I teach high school. Yup. Bad mood covered. On to other things.

Other things like traffic ticket be damned, I'm sending Rampant into the publisher's this week and the stepmoms kicked out some AWESOME cover art. Okay--it's not Mt. Shasta, but it is Mt. Lassen reflected in a lake, and since Lassen is actually mentioned in the book, and, hullo, it's a big skeery volcano, I think Mt. Lassen will make a fine cover shot, don't you? (We actually HAD pictures of Sugarpine lake... but they weren't really, uhm, exciting if you didn't count my beautiful children sitting on a log in the middle of it. I mean *I* liked them, but I don't think they'll sell books.)

So, uhm, that's sort of cool.

Other things like Dreamspinner's Advent Calendar going on sale by the individual story in a week and a half-- finally, some of you will be able to read "If I Must" and I want you to because it's cute and happy--and we all knows I don't do cute and happy that often, right?

So, uhm, yeah. Getting excited about that.

Other things like expecting my edits for "Keeping Promise Rock" in the e-mail sometime in the next four weeks.

Uhm. SQUUUEEEEEE!!!! Right?

And other things like getting a courtship letter from these folks today, which, all things considered I thought was kind of flattering. The director of submissions had actually seen me on, visited the web site, and wanted me to send something in. I'm thinking of sending in the piece I'm working on about Adrian and the Angels...I don't know if they'll like it, or even if it's what they're looking for... but hey. They gave me an invite... I hate to be the hoser who stays home from the party because he thinks jeans are just too damned casual to wear, right?

So yes. I have been a royal raging bitch. But my children and I are going to have a lovely break, I may fight the laundry monster and win, and, holy shit and pass the potatoes, I may just finish some Christmas knitting AND the Adrian story in the next week.

Maybe, if the dragon sleeps, the children sleeps, MOMMY sleeps, and I get to sneak a romance book in the bathroom (HuLLO, I've been trying to read Dark Highlander for a MONTH! I LOVE it, I just need to get through it!), maybe if all this happens, we can sic The Beast on the Laundry Monster and nice mommy can walk out of the rubble, you know, like the scientists walk out after Godzilla and Mothra go a few rounds in Tokyo?

I mean, you know. That sort of shit happens in the movies, right?

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Avoiding the blog...

No, not you guys, although it probably feels like that. (I'm sorry--I love reading everyone's blogs, mostly I've just been busy!)

And mostly it's been my own blog I'm avoiding. I had some very cool, very funny stuff to blog about, like how my administrator requested I didn't mention anatomical parts on my referrals (although she thought my referrals were very very entertaining) or the five stages of getting a bad review (panic, refusal, bargaining, whining and swearing) or even the absolute abyss of craptasm that my mood was yesterday (too many people needing something from me--always a bad day).

And then I had the department meeting and craptasm took on a whole new meaning.

See, our goal lately has been to 'all get on the same page'. I've never been very good at this--ever. I've never worn what everyone else was wearing, I've never done my hair the same way everyone else has done, I've never approached life in an orderly fashion, and 'getting my curriculum on the same page'...

Well, I swore I'd try.

In fact, I seem to recall, clear as day, telling my department head that I'd be willing to change my first quarter essay from a persuasive to a personal reflective. I even recall some tentative plans to do just that.

And then today, when he asked everyone what page we were on, I was proud--we'd just finished the persuasive essay! Well, it made sense to me--the entire first quarter is rationalist literature--It's ALL persuasive essays! It's just... so... damned... easy... to use the literature to teach the essay. And I've showed him my approach before, and he's liked it! But it wasn't what he was looking for, and I could tell he wanted to ream me, but he didn't want to do it in front of his curriculum clones (there's three of them, all young, all male, all obsessive compulsive, all REALLY excited about this 'on the same page' thing) and there I was, off in Amy-land, seeming to be completely clueless as to what the real world was doing.

And to some extent, I was.

I wasn't even to timeline. I mean, I was REALLY excited myself--last year, I did two extra rationalist pieces (Thomas Jefferson and someone else I completely forget right now) and didn't get to The Crucible until second semester. I just started the Crucible, and I may be about 1/2 way through (or possibly all the way through... I've got some plans to just rip us right through that puppy) by the time finals get here. So, on the one hand, I've accomplished a four week streamline--and that was WITH the debacle of the entire week and a half time-out I took to do the one sentence summary in response to our collaborative group time experiment on behalf of the administration. (Holy shit. I'd forgotten about that. Dammit--I really WAS on track to finish the Crucible by Christmas. Shit shit shit shit shit--that pisses me off all over again!) On the other hand, I'm still behind. And as I bumbled my way through THAT explanation (while Mr. Trick is looking at me like an iguana he brought home by mistake) I found myself wishing longingly for Mr. Sparrow.

Mr. Sparrow has the same problem. He's out now getting chemo, but when he's working he's A. unconventional, B. brilliant, and C. charismatic. Since I am merely A, he sort of had the effect of making me look good. We used to have long conversations about how sometimes we'd start out wanting to do a two week unit and it would grow to take up the entire quarter. We'd have deep discussions about how we just couldn't let them skim over the curriculum, we had to give it depth and breadth and color and scope.

He made me feel good about moments like this, when, holy shit, I'm behind and on a different page, but he'd been there.

Today, I just felt off kilter and old and female and weird.

It's funny how one person can completely alter the effect of the bad shit on your day, isn't it? I mean, I knew I missed the guy, but I didn't realize how humanizing and accessible he tended to make my mostly male department.

It's also funny how, with really awesome people, you want them to feel better for purely selfish reasons. I really hope he feels better--I miss how he makes ME feel.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Self Esteem and Why I Need Another Job...

First of all-- MOTHERHOOD #WIN!!! Sam came to the party. Sam is Zoomboy's bestest best friend in the whole world. Sam is fun. Sam and Zoomboy play. I honestly wouldn't care if they leaned against the wall like potatoes--Sam made Zoomboy happy and all was right with my world!

For a little while at least.

Then I went back to school and gave a REALLY BITCHIN' Joseph McCarthy lecture linking the Communist Witch Trials with the Salem Witch trials... and one out of three classes listened. Of course, this lecture wasn't supposed to be quite so long. They had projects due today. Maybe five kids per class did their project. Many of them claimed they thought it was due Tuesday. I don't buy that. It was on the board. 'Rough Draft Due Tuesday', 'Project due Monday'. This was AFTER I changed it from being due Friday. They get a 10% discount for turning it in late, and after tomorrow, it's 50%, but... seriously. What in the hell is wrong with my Juniors? So having them blow off the lecture was sort of icing on the cake.

And then, in (take a guess!) second period...

The lecture was wrapping it's way to a tortuous end (and you have to know that I have class-interactive parts in the damned lecture--It's not just me talking, although in the past, I've actually gotten their attention this way. I DO ACTUALLY KNOW WHAT THE FUCK I'M TALKING ABOUT after all) when this group of hosers starts cracking up. I tell one of them to go outside and get himself together and he does, and then he gets back inside and I'm like "What in the hell?"

"Ms. Lane... Ms. Lane... no, no... listen! You've got to hear this! When Flipper here went to the bathroom, we put a tack in his chair, and when he came back and sat down... HE FLATTENED IT!"

Well, tomorrow I need to tell them that if Flipper HADN'T flattened the tack, it would have been considered 'assault' and written down as a possible suspension.

Today, three minutes before the bell rang, I had a surprise smirk. Sweartadog, didn't know it was coming. Couldn't have stopped it if I tried.

Suffice it to say, I didn't make it to the bell. That's okay. They weren't paying attention anyway.

But about self-esteem...

Saturday, before the party madness, before the emotional meltdown about being the world's suckiest mother, before all that bullshit, I was driving the little kids to gymnastic, about ready to stop at McDonalds, and generally wishing I wasn't up so early. (This was also before I discovered I left my wallet at home and called Mate to deliver McDonalds to North Highlands in order to keep Zoomboy from chronic meltdown--you know, when my brain shorted out and I became the world's suckiest mother.) Anyway, there I was, in a pleasant haze, and suddenly, Squishy Belle spoke up from the back of the car.

"Everybody likes me."

She grinned into the rearview mirror as she said it, and my first thought was, "Yup. Glad to see that little self-esteem problem managed to leave one member of my family alone."

"That's right, Squishy Belle--everybody likes you."

"That's good."

*ahhh* Well, at least she thinks I do a good job.

Saturday, November 14, 2009


So Mate and I are out of the little kid birthday game. When do you send out invitations again? One week before the party? Two? I thought one--I remember missing parties where the lead in was too long. Mate thought two--but he forgot to remind me two weeks before the party, and I'm the one who buys the invitations. So we were aiming for one, got them out on Tuesday, except Zoom Boy was responsible for handing them out and there were socio/political/educational blocks in the way of handing them out at recess.

He didn't get them out until Thursday.

Nobody's RSVP'd yet.

Nobody's coming to my little boy's birthday party except family.


So we sit down with Zoom Boy to warn him. "Honey, we got those invitations out awfully late--it might just be family."

"That's okay."

"I mean, Mom & Dad & Grandma & Grandpa... those other kids, we didn't give them enough warning." *twist knife of failed motherhood deeper into the heart*

"Will I have cake?"

"Yeah. Remember-- we already ordered it." For lots of people. We'll have cake fore DAYS.

"Will I have a bunk bed?" Fuck. Fuck. The fucking bunk bed--it was a suggestion--I sounded him out for it, and he liked it, but we had the dog puking problem and had a thought that we might pay of that traffic ticket that's about to put a warrant out for my arrest before we got another bill and...

"No, sweetheart. We'll just get you a bunk bed anyway." Hell, Mate just sold stock at a ridiculously low price. Let's go bunk bed! "And I'll tell you what! It doesn't have to be a birthday present. You'll get toys for your birthday. Lots and lots of toys." Because in spite of the ridicule I just got from a colleague for wearing craptastic clothes to school, we WILL spend money on more worthless pieces of plastic if they make you happy after I have fucked up this day beyond repair!

"Will Auntie Wendy be there?"

"Absolutely." Score one for motherhood#win. Don't look at the #fail column. Do. Not. Look.

"Then it will be good. Can I have all the little robots?"

The little robots we bought to put in the goodie bags no one will get because no one will make it?


"It will be good! I love you mom!"

"I love you too, Zoom Boy."

Excuse me now while I go look up the cost of shrinks. We may need to start putting money away for one. I can't #fail ALL the time.

Thursday, November 12, 2009


Trust me. You don't want to know.

But I can tell you this.

1/2 a can of resolve and entire bottle of Febreze later, and we may be able to stay in the house w/out chuking into the crappy bathroom as a family.

The cats think the dog is possessed by Satan.

And we've got two extra loads of laundry to do,

And no clean towels in the house.

Every room in the house has a big stinky, chemical treated wet spot SOMEWHERE.

And I know that in an extreme pinch, the big kids will pick up a towel and a stray bottle of chemicals and attack gooey macnastyness without flinching, whining or bitching.

I also know that in extreme measures, Mate will okay a big food takeout just so no one has to smell food cooking.

Because after some things, the smell of food cooking is positively heinous.

But we all have to eat.

Oh yeah-- I can tell you that the vet called and is pleased to say that the dog has pancreatitis, and that we may go broke treating her.

It's a good thing Mate was going to cash in some stock so I could publish Rampant, because the dog may make it through Christmas. *sigh*

Tuesday, November 10, 2009


The fifth Jack & Teague (& Katy) is up. It's called 'Becoming', it's the last one on the website, and, well, I'm exhausted! Enjoy!

(And because this is a knitting blog, I'll add this: Mate just came up with another use for a knitting needle. Seems Zoom Boy locked our bedroom door from the inside and then fell asleep on the bed. Mate needed to pick the lock. Because, you know... we get to the bathroom from that door!)

Sunday, November 8, 2009


Okay--I'm rating my goals for this weekend--everybody with me?

Cleaning the table--#fail

Folding the clothes--#fail

Scrubbing the bathroom--#fail

Going grocery shopping--#fail

Taking Zoom Boy to his soccer party--#win!

Getting the kids to gymnastics--#win!

Getting to see a movie with mate--#fail

Getting to see a movie with mate & the short people--#win!

Getting to see a movie with the tall people--#fail (but they saw 'Zombieland' with mate--Mate gets a #win on that one!)

Finishing a cool fingerless mitt from a new pattern--#win

Starting mitt #2--#win

Finishing the new Jack and Teague adventure--#win!

Finishing Adrian and the Angels--#fail

Finding my husband's iPod which he lent to me--#fail

Planning to eviscerate my knitting bag where I think it is--#win

Getting over my crappy goodreads status--#fail

Finding a way to MAYBE publish Rampant--#win (but don't hold your breath!)

Not eating cake when it's put in front of me--#fail

Not eating something I've cooked when it's put in front of me--#win!

Forgiving Curmudgeonly Colleague for butting into my business--#win!

Forgiving myself for taking the whole thing so seriously--#fail

Getting to bed on time tonight? #win or #fail... it's all in the flip of a coin!

Saturday, November 7, 2009

I hate being a LIbra...

You all know the birth sign Libra, right? The scales? The justice? I hates it.

I have a temper (shocker) and I have a spine, and I know how to use them--but it's hard sometimes when you see the other guy's side of the story. But that doesn't mean it doesn't piss me off. (You can see how this can lead to stomach ulcers and/or eating your feelings, right?)

See, the thing is...

I was leading my second period (again, shocker that it would be this class!) back from the library and almost everybody was inside when suddenly two of the girls started shrieking at the top of their lungs. "Holy shit! What the fuck! Oh my God!" I turn back around to see what the problem was, and there's a five inch praying mantis on the rail of the ramp to my room. I snap, "Oh, Jesus, calm down!" but I can see their point--one of the girls had almost put her hand on the thing, and yeah. It would freak anybody out a little, right?

So they're almost calmed down when here comes the two biggest bozos from my class room--except, they're not really being bozos. They're trying to be HEROES. "It's just a bug! I'll kill it for you!"

And I've got my hands on their shoulders and am pushing them back inside, when...

My curmudgeonly colleague comes out of his classroom. He's pissed off. He was giving a quiz, and suddenly there is screaming and shrieking and "What the fuck!" interrupting his class and he automatically assumes (and this is wrong of him) that I don't have things in hand, so he starts ordering my bozos back into the room.

My bozos are bozos. I've sent them to the office more often in the last two months than I sent anybody in all of last year. But they are MY bozos, and they were actually GOING BACK TO THE ROOM, and suddenly curmudgeonly colleague is out on his step yelling at them, and they get mad. That's MY job. They go, but they're grumbling, and then one of them says something HIGHLY inappropriate.

And suddenly they're both being referred. And they're mad at me for not standing up for them. Except they've just told another teacher "That fuckin' niggah do too much!" so they're screwed.


And I can see everyone's point. Curmudgeonly colleague has a right to keep his door open without worrying about my kids kicking up a ruckus. The girls were being teenaged girls--it was a big skeery bug. The boys were not actually being bozos--they were trying to be heroes. I get it. I wrote an e-mail to administration saying just that--the boys said inappropriate things to a staff member--I support any consequences. But the admin should know that they were reacting to other circumstances--they felt like CC was getting into their business when he shouldn't have.

To an extent, they're right.

I resent having someone order my kids around. And I walked into lunch with every intention of calling CC aside and saying as much to him. But lunch was... crowded. And rowdy. And people were enjoying themselves, and the weekend was coming, and... and my spine deserted me.

I managed to say something like, "Hey, Curmudgeonly--the next time I need a bug killed, I'll be sure to go into your room and get you first! Because, you know, God forbid we should kill them ourselves!" And then I left it at that.

Because he's a friend, and he may have pissed me off, but when the bozos are gone, we're gonna be stuck with each other and it would be nice if we were speaking.

I hate being a Libra.

And on the lighter side of things? (And also relating to Curmudgeonly bossing my kids around, but this time didn't piss me off.)

Another class of kids was going off to the library, and one of the girls was being pretty loud. As I took off after the class (after shooing the stragglers out of my room) Curmudgeonly said "Hey, could you quiet her down a little!" and I was planning to anyway, so I walked up next to her and asked her nicely to not shriek across the quad.

Now Sweetie's a big girl-- as am I, and I wobbled a little as I was walking and bumped into her. I apologized, and she laughed, "That's why big girls like us aren't supposed to walk together Ms. Lane--we'll rub up together and start a fire!"

I was cracking up over that one all day.

And I'm sorry the post was late--I had another oops moment where I went to put the kids down to sleep and fell asleep with them. *happy sigh* I'm starting to enjoy those.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009


Okay-- still boring, but this time it's not my fault. We had CAHSEE make-up tests--everyone who didn't pass the test in their sophomore year had to take it in the last two days. I was missing 1/3-1/2 my classes, and was SO not in a position to teach them ANYTHING I was going to have to repeat. Twice.

We watched movies. Sue me. I can't even find it in myself to be a teeny-weeny-itty-bit repentant. Shepherd angel of penitence forgive me... (I'm not joking--I looked up angels for research for Adrian's story in heaven, and there really is a Shepherd, Angel of Penitence. I personally think he sounds sexy as hell--yeah, he's gonna be in the story.)

Anyway, Ladybug has been making her presence felt. As I was telling her babysitter, she's sort of like that Bugs Bunny character-- Baby Faced Finster. One minute, she's all simpering cuteness and wee-thing theatre, and the next she's a midget bank robber, shaving in the mirror while puffing a cigar. You think I'm kidding? I give you exhibits A, B, & C.

A. We were late to dance yesterday--I couldn't find her dress. After convincing her to go without her dress (easier said than done, trust me!) I got her there and was putting on her shoes.

"Dancers are pretty mama."

"You think so?"

"Yeah--Dancers are LADIES."

"Yeah--are you a LADY?"

"No." She gave me a VERY pointed look. "I don't have a DRESS!"

aherm. That's me. I've been schooled.

B. Brenda (the day care lady) told me that her husband, Roy, was dancing to the music from his laptop, trying to get the kids to laugh. Ladybug looked at him and sniffed disdainfully.

"That's not dancing!"

"Oh yeah--what's this?" And Roy performed a mock pihrouette (sic).

"That's BALLET!" She said indignantly. "THAT'S dancing!"

aherm. And that's the baby sitter's husband. He's been schooled.

C. This afternoon while she was watching television, I took the opportunity to go to the bathroom. I was there, contemplating my navel, when she walks in with her little toy camera phone and an absolutely EVIL grin.

"Smile, mama! Say cheese!"

And now I've not only been schooled, I've been toy-you-tubed.

The thing is, she's not only articulate, playful, and fearless... she's also a sarcastic bossy bit of baggage--and she's hella smart. You'll be talking to her, thinking "She's playing us all--she knows she's cute and she's got the stage knowhow of a seasoned Vaudeville veteran!" and suddenly she'll talk to you like a complete adult and confirm that idea. This isn't REALLY a three year old with a winning overbite and a charming lisp-- it's a midget in need of a good orthodontist.


I'm planning to ship her off to Catholic school when she hits thirteen. I'm just not old enough to deal with what's coming down the pike. (Can pagans go to Catholic school? This could become a REALLY PRESSING QUESTION in about ten years!)

And that's about all! Oh yeah- Mom & Dad brought dinner today, and good news about a chance to see the Trans Siberian Orchestra (SQUUUEEEEEEE!) and, of course, a good load of guilt about not writing the kinds of books my mom can share with her friends. (Yes. It sounded decidedly like mixed signals to me, too!)

Doesn't matter. What matters is, Big T washed dishes, I didn't have to cook, and Zoom boy and Ladybug got to pet their extraordinarily well behaved dog as he sat in the back of their truck. Everybody was happy.


Monday, November 2, 2009

Adventures of the world's most boring human...

Okay-- that's me.

Went to work-- did my job. Not great, but it got done. (Okay--I've got a backlog of papers that's sort of haunting me. If I get those done my self esteem will SKYROCKET I promise.)

Came home--did my job. Homework got done, baths got done. Some eating was involved with minimal cooking. I took a nap and disguised it as quality time by calling it 'cuddles'.

Saw Mate and the big kids off to their one King's game this year. (Probably not as exciting as the one in San Antonio, where an honest to God bat made an appearance, but they get to go in person this year.)

Worked on some Jack & Teague. (Progressing nicely, but I have to say I'm spoiled. It seems like it should be going a lot faster--I have to keep reminding myself that the dragon is taking it easy these days and we are not to goad him into frantic activity because that's hard on me and the family. Me and that dragon are going to have to coexist and that's just the goddamned truth.)

Gave an FO to its intended recipient. I'll try to get some pictures from her--just the fingertip gloves--they turned out pretty good, but they were done on size 0 needles and took forFREAKINGever. My next project is fingerless mitts w/a VERY cool lace pattern in this yummy hand-dyed cashmerino--the pattern's on the net and if I manage not to fuck these up I'll put in the link. It's fingerless mitts and a cowl out of one small skein--sweartadog, it's like magic.

And sat down to blog.

And was grateful--because sometimes boring is good. Boring makes you appreciate the special. Boring means you might get some sleep. Boring knits up the raveled sleeves of frantic that are soccer/beginning of school/birthday season. I don't mind being the most boring human some days. I might even get some reading done.

(*thought* After I finished the Jack & Teague, I was going to do a short story on Adrian and then start the 5th Cory book... I'm thinking I might start work on the 2nd Promise Rock book instead, since I don't have the money to publish Rampant yet. Brutal truth, but real, nonetheless... when I have enough $$$ to publish Rampant and Jack & Teague, then I'll start work on the next book in the series...)