Monthly Archives: March 2011

Monday Musings

Oh, I am exceedingly vexed this morning.  I had great plans to embed a video from yesterday’s lunch at Tijuana Flats where Mr. CPQ tasted ghost pepper salsa for the first time.

It was amusing.

It was blog-worthy.

It was an opportunity to poke fun at my husband.

It got erased in the process of transferring it from my phone to the computer.

ARGH!!!!

So just close your eyes and imagine hearing my cackling laughter while Mr. CPQ’s face turns beet red, his head sweats, and he jokes about never needing to take Claritin again.

We had a blessedly quiet weekend which was welcome after last week’s craziness.  We cleaned the garage out Saturday morning and tossed stuff that we don’t want to see in the new house that we haven’t located yet because we haven’t put our own up for sale because it takes us a sweet forever to get off the dime and then I spent most of Saturday afternoon processing registrations for an  upcoming conference.  The software I use to process the registrations has been a little buggy and has threatened to send me off the ledge on more than one occasion, but something clicked on Saturday and I was able to do a lot of work without any error messages which, truly, is a miracle on par with Moses parting the waters.

Sunday was church and lunch and the boys scattered to friends’ houses and I sat on the couch and got sucked into watching Superman I and II for the first time and asking Mr. CPQ questions such as “If Superman came from Krypton, wouldn’t kryptonite be helpful to him rather than harmful since it’s from his natural environment?”

It’s times like these that I usually get the “Oh, you poor little jungle girl” look.

And an eye roll.

Today’s the last day of track for the boys so I’m going to be running a few little errands and getting stuff organized for the next month of track out.  The boys are asking what we’re going to be doing and where we’re going to go and right now I don’t have any concrete plans other than a couple of field trips with Gretchen and Heather.  I’m sure we’ll figure something out and have a grand adventure or two.

Because if we don’t, I won’t be the only one exceedingly vexed.

Have a nice day.

Livin’ la Vida Loca – With apologies to Ricky Martin

Yesterday I had the privilege of sitting in a conference room for over an hour getting barraged by 7 people whose singular intent was to tell me all the ways that Travis was not meeting expectations for 5th grade work.

Mrs. Scates, he’s only reading at a third grade level.

Mrs. Scates, he can’t answer “why” questions.

Mrs. Scates, he doesn’t understand the concept of fractions.

Mrs. Scates, he keeps figuring out how to get around the computer’s security firewall.

Way to go, kid.  Maybe you have employment opportunities as a hacker.

Mr. CPQ was not with me for this little gathering.  That’s actually a good thing.   He used to have to come for moral support because after twenty minutes I would be emotionally overwhelmed by the constant stream of bad news and I’d shut down and start crying and he would have to finish the meeting for me.  After 9 years of doing this (we started his IEP planning when he was three years old), I’ve progressed to the point that I can now wait until I get to the car before I break down.

After the bearing of the bad news, we managed to get the necessary goals and strategies written and the forms signed and we all went about our day, but a tinge of sadness stayed tucked in my heart.

Until this morning.

As I was unloading the kids at the carpool line, I heard Ricky Martin’s Living La Vida Loca blaring from Travis’ iPod (he inherited my old one with its complete collection of Ricky, Barry Manilow, and ABBA).  He didn’t get it turned off before I helped him to his walker, so I reached for it to do so and noticed that the Notes app was open to a page entitled “Livin la Vida Loca by Travis”.  I read it and started laughing.

This kid, who confounds his teachers every day, had written down BY MEMORY the lyrics as he heard them to the song.  And because they cracked me up and because this is my blog, I’m sharing them with you verbatim.

(And if you need a refresher to the real lyrics, here’s Ricky’s version.)

Season Sa Service Dishes, Black Cats and Famous Dogs.

A fail the autograph that girls gonna make me fall.

Season Sa Service New Kits and Sony Cameras,

He’s got a picture for every day and night.

To make you clothes of fund to Dancing in the Rain.

to make of crews of crazy life take away your pain

like a homemade to brain

Come on!

Outside, Inside Out, Livin la Vida Loca

Sharing shampoo your back

Living la Vida Loca

Or live songs ever end

eda skits call la moca!

She well there you out, livin la vida loca.

Whoo!  All right!

Woke up the New York City!  In a funky Dance Hotel.

He took your wallet and he took your money,  He must asleep you, sleeping pill.

He never dreams that want to makes you or of Friendship Pain.

Once you have a taste of honey Mustard, you’ll never be the same.

It’s to make you go in Target, Come on!

Outside, Inside out!

Livin la Vida Loca.

Regardless of what those teachers said, somehow, I think everything’s going to be okay.

Have a nice day.

Thoughts on Thursday

1.  My husband found cheese in my refrigerator that had expired in November of  2009.

He ate it.

I have no words.

2.  I tell that story as a humorous counterpoint to the not-so-funny behavioral  referral form that came home from school yesterday for me to sign.

Again, no words.

Except to say that parenting is not for the faint of heart.

3.  And on another light note, I successfully managed to make a bad situation worse this morning in carpool when I tried to help a woman whose lock was jammed on her car door.  I not only jammed it further, but also break off a vital piece in the process.

As a consolation, I gave her directions to the Chevy dealership and my phone car charger cord so she could bungee the door shut long enough to drive there.

Seriously, don’t ever ask me to help you with anything.

4.  Speaking of help, I don’t ask for it very well and this week I’ve had to ask three times for some assistance.

PAINFUL.

I think God’s trying to teach me something and I’m sure it’ll be the subject of a very long blog post when I can sit down to think it through.

5.  The eating of the expired cheese episode is really bothering me.

6.  We ordered shoes on-line from Zappo’s at 9:37 Tuesday night and they were on my doorstep by noon the next day.  And shipping was free, by the way.  They may be my new favorite company.

7.  Shhh…don’t tell the deer but the daffodils are blooming in my yard.

8.  I will have a passel of church ladies descending on my house this evening for a meeting and my house is not “passel of church ladies” clean. I think instead of spending my time vacuuming and scrubbing, I’m just going to make a boatload of desserts to serve while we chat amongst the dust bunnies.

It’s hard to pass judgment over a piece of pound cake.

9.  I may singlehandedly (YES THAT’S A WORD, SPELL CHECK!) topple this conference I’m working on.

10.  The anxiety dreams I’ve been having about it have been delightful, though.  Last night I dreamed I had dozens of pink baby elephants in my lap while Bill Clinton was chauffeuring me in a motor home.

Yep, no words.

Have a nice day.