Flawed, I tell ya

It’s been a week.  I can’t say good or bad, necessarily – it’s been typical.  Crazy.  Snafu.

So what have I learned?

~ Don’t ever count on a stomach bug being completely gone.  Sometimes they like to rear their ugly heads a second (or third) time.

Yes, I do realize I just used ‘their’ incorrectly. His/her (or simply ‘his’) just doesn’t seem proper in reference to an illness. ‘Their,’ although wrong, seemed…less so.

Thoughts?

~ Setting your clock ahead 5 or 10 minutes is not a good plan for me.  I can’t handle the stress.  I never know what time it actually is, and I live in a constant state of anxiety thinking I’m late/early/on time.  It does work, though.

Okay I don’t actually feel anxiety over that.  I’m pretty chill.  I’m late and I really don’t care.  If we’re going to be friends, you’re just going to have to accept that and plan on me being 5-10 minutes late for everything. I know it’s rude and I’m very sorry.

~ Even at thirty-something, I still laugh at the same juvenile things that would have cracked me up in junior high.  Big. Dork.

~Speaking of Thirtysomething, it’s on Netflix Instant Streaming.  As soon as I wrap this up I’m off to watch [again] and see what I remember from the first go-round.  Which, incidentally, was in 1987. How old does that make you feel?  Weird that I am now one of those thirty-somethings.  I wonder how it will seem different as a mature responsible adult.

~ Even though I have no neighbors that live behind me, and in fact I have trees directly behind the fence line, and even though there is no way that someone would be behind my house, I should probably just assume that someone might be there and wear a shirt at all times anyway, just in case. Because if I were to, say, rush to catch the ringing  phone fresh out of the shower with no regard to my shirtless state, there is a chance I could [awkwardly] discover someone behind my house.

~ Just FYI, when the power company decides to trim trees on your property, they don’t give you any advance notice.

~ I don’t do well without my phone, and I hate this about myself.

~ You should always check out your daughter’s brand-new Brownie uniform out in advance.  And by ‘in advance’ I mean more than 24 hours out from a big event.  Because if someone ordered her the wrong one, you might discover that Girl Scout stores are not open on Saturdays, and then you might find yourself scrambling to make one the night before said event.  Which is even less fun that it sounds, if that’s possible.

~ I am also one of those jerks that checks football scores from her [then-functioning] phone during her child’s big event, which was unfortunately scheduled smack in the middle of the game.  It didn’t stop me from doing it, but I did feel bad about it, for whatever that’s worth.  And I only checked twice.  The game was a blowout anyway.

~ Come to think of it, I did this in Disney last year, too, while we were enjoying the Hoop-De-Doo with Darcie and family.  Maybe my jerkiness is not new this week.

Bygones.

~ And just because I really hate to have a post without a picture…

I love that man.

3-0 Baby. Go Stillers!

What I learned this week – Flooding. Not cool.

This week, I learned a lot about my backyard.  For example, there is an 8 inch fall in elevation from my walkout basement door to the back of our fence.  And there is, on an average day, about 2 feet of bank above the creek that flows behind that fence.

This weekend, though, all of that ‘bank to spare’ sort of, well, vanished.  Flooded away.

I woke Sunday morning to heavy downpour and water just starting to overtake the main ground.  Not a pretty sight.

This was the last picture I took – after that it was all ‘hauling stuff in the rain’.  Our basement is a walkout, so there was some concern about exactly how much more water it would take before it came into our home – hence all the measuring.

Sandbags seemed to be the answer – well, actually bags of topsoil, since they are considerably cheaper, and we could actually use them for something else later.  A trip to Lowe’s, $16, and a few hours of hauling and stacking later, and all was well.  And very, very wet.

And it’s possible that some idiot did all of this without considering the white shirt she was wearing.

We’re under a flood watch until Friday and expecting more rain later this week, but I feel confident that we will be fine.  My friends in Nashville aren’t faring quite as well.  If you can, please take a moment to pray for Jenn and her daughter.  Their home is under water and they have left to stay with friends who live on higher ground, but unfortunately their neighborhood is so badly flooded that they can’t get out to go anywhere else.  Jenn’s daughter has Down’s Syndrome and she is very confused and upset by what is going on, so she needs all the love you can send her way.

On the upside, the girls and I had lots of fun singing the ‘Arky, Arky’ song.  [Does it have a real name?] 

Stay dry my friends!

What I’ve Learned This Week

This is what we call beating a dead horse.

Remember the meanie that Annie was dealing with?

I talked to her father yesterday.  It is worth noting that her father is also the coach of this team.

Call me crazy, but I think the coach should be setting a higher standard for behavior, starting with himself and his child.  But this is not the case.

Phone call.

Me: Annie and [your daughter] are not getting along. I know that Annie is sensitive, but she’s been crying before every practice and game for the past 2 weeks.  I’ve tried to help her find ways to avoid or change the situation, but it is not working out.  [Your daughter] is calling her names and telling her to shut up.  I cannot keep sending her back to an environment like that, so unless something changes, we will no longer be playing.

Him: I’m really sorry to hear that she doesn’t like [this sport] anymore.  I hate that.

Me:  It is not [the sport].  She still loves [the sport].

Him: I hate that.  I really want every kid to love the game, and I hope that she will get over that and change her mind someday.

Me: Again, this is not about the game.  She loves the game, but she does not like to be bullied.

Him: I was afraid this would happen. 

{here is where I foolishly thought he was starting to see my point}

Him: About 3 weeks ago she was crying in practice.  The problem is that she is younger and smaller than the other girls, and she can’t keep up.

Me: She is the same age as [two teammates] and she is older than [two other girls].  She has always been small, and she has always excelled at [this sport].  Her age and her size are not the problem here. 

Him: Well I do hate to hear that.  I want every kid to love [the sport].  If there is anything I can do in the future…

Me: I keep telling you, she loves the game.  She does not love being called names.  This is not a game issue, this is a personality issue.  She is getting nowhere trying to be nice to [your daughter] and now I am getting no where trying to be civil to you.  We will try again with a different coach in the fall.

-click-

Is it just me, or was he really, really obtuse there?  Like, if burying your head in the sand were an Olympic Sport, he would be Apolo Ohno.   Or if ignoring a parent’s complaint was an amusement park, he would be Disney World.  Or if blaming other people for your child’s mistakes was an evil movie franchise, he would be Twilight. 

What the heck, dude?

I hung up the phone so angry I was shaking…and then I cried.  I always cry when I’m angry, and I hate that.  It seems so weak.  Because actually, I wasn’t feeling weak at all.  I was feeling like “Hey buddy, I know where you are going to be in 20 minutes, and I just might show up and whap you over the head with a frying pan.  Don’t mess with my kid.”

For the record, I did not do this.

I did, however, talk to 2 other parents with daughters on that team, and both are having the same issue.  In fact, one of the mothers ran a practice last week when he wasn’t there, and she said the girl was mean to everyone, her included. 

My beef isn’t that our kids don’t get along.  Believe me, as much as I hate it, I know that will happen.  And I know Annie will have to toughen up.  But at the same time, when you are in a position of authority over young children - i.e. coaching a team of 7/8 year old girls - I think you need to take responsibility for their behavior, and not allow name calling or bullying behavior.  Especially when it is your own child. 

I’m thinking of filing a complaint with the board.  Is that out of line?

So in summary, this week I learned that I don’t want my girls to be on a winning team.  Sometimes, a losing team is a good thing.  A team that knows that winning isn’t everything, and that having fun and being kind are more important than any scoreboard.  I want my girls to keep proper perspective about what matters in life.

Here’s a hint, coach man – it isn’t that undefeated record.

We’ve played with ‘the best’ – now we’re ready for the rest.

To see what others have learned, hop over to my friend Julie’s place!

What I learned this week – Facebook edition

I joined Facebook over a year ago, and I did so very reluctantly.  Even after signing up, I didn’t use the account for months.  I just didn’t see the point.

I readily admit now that I was wrong, and I’m very glad that I did finally start using it.  It’s been fun.  I’ve moved a lot, so I was able to reconnect with old friends, talk to people who live all over the world, and do a little networking as well.  (Gosh I hate that word. Blech.)

I’ve also learned a lot from Facebook.

~For example, it seems to be a popular place for one to out oneself.  You know - out.  Like, exiting the closet.  At least among 414 of my closest friends and acquaintances, this isn’t an uncommon practice.

~I’ve learned of countless marriages, divorces, and births through Facebook.  Because of this, I strongly feel maiden names should be a requirement.  I have no idea who married whom and I’m easily confused by profile pictures of cats.  Give me your maiden name or a picture of your actual person, please.  My brain is tired.

~I’ve seen hundreds of pictures of my friends, from way back when we had big hair up ’til now, when we’re generally sporting mom ponytails.

Tell me who rocked the Aqua Net. Yeah baby. I know it.

~I’ve been able to share pictures and trade instant letters with one of my oldest and dearest friends, despite the fact that she lives almost 5,000 miles away in Finland. (Love you Nella!)

~I’ve seen photos from the past that, despite their unflattering nature, make me smile with nostalgia every time.

[That's me in the middle, between Big Hair and Scarlett O'Hara. The pasty white Irish girl, smack in the middle of my black-with-combat-boots phase. Awesome.]

~The jerk I dated in high school/college?  Looks exactly the same.  And what I learned from him (besides the fact that I should always trust my parents’ opinion of the guys I date, because despite my reluctance to admit it, they actually do know better than me)…where was I?  Oh yeah.  What I learned from him on Facebook is that there is a block feature, whereby you can completely hide yourself from certain people.  How totally awesome is that?  Thanks, Mr. Wrong-Wrong-Oh-So-Unspeakably-Wrong for making me find that handy feature, which further helps me to pretend those years never even happened.  You need to not exist in my world anymore.

I’m tempted to include a picture here, but I won’t. I don’t want to have to look at him again.

~On the other end of the spectrum, that boy I pined over in junior high and for several years after that?  Even more dreamy now.  Some of you us age better than others.

Even more tempted to include a picture here.  But again, showing restraint.

I’m so mature.

~I’ve learned that I know way too many people with way too much time on their hands. Hello Farmville friends! Yes, I’m talking to you. I just don’t get it.  And that goes for you Mafia Wars and Pet Land and Cafe World folks, too. 

~I also learned that you can block those annoying games and applications. Score again! Thanks for all of the block features, Facebook. Much obliged.

~Last year, I learned that I was once someone’s ‘bad girl.’  The girl he shouldn’t have dated but did.  The one you wouldn’t take home to mother, unless you want to tick mother off.  This was rather amusing to me, since rebellious me never did anything more shocking than wear the aforementioned combat boots and experiment with wild colors of temporary hair color.  And that was before he even knew me!  As it turned out, the reason I was so wild was my ethnicity.  Specifically, my lack of being Korean.  ‘Cause Korean I am not, I’ll give you that.

He and I dated briefly in our 20′s.  We were each other’s rebound person – he came after The One Who No Longer Exists for me, and I came after The One That Got Away for him.  We discussed this openly at the time, and we had a few laughs while making the best of a lousy few months.  After that, I started dating my now-husband, and he got another job so we no longer worked together.  I didn’t really see him much after that, and we just lost touch.  Until Facebook, of course. 

Last year we had a great laugh over the notion of me being a wild child.  But honestly, I have to admit, it somehow delighted me a little, too.  To get to be ‘bad’ without actually having anything bad to show for it – that works for me.  I do ‘bad’ like a monkey…well, nevermind.

~And this week, also thanks to Facebook, I learned that possibly the only person to ever think of me as a bad girl died.  Killed himself.  He was 37 years old.  He never married – never got over The One. 

She did marry, has 2 little girls, and had no idea that he still carried a torch for her.  Apparently no one did.

I’m haunted by a song he used to love.  I remember him playing it over and over.  I guess it meant more than I realized – he was still playing it a decade+ later.

I’m so sorry, my friend.  I wish I had known.  I wish I’d done something differently.  I wish I had been there for you, loving you, praying for you, carrying your burden.  I’m so, so sorry. 

And in a case like this, I don’t know what else I can say.  Rest in peace doesn’t exactly seem appropriate.  He couldn’t find peace while living, and somehow I don’t believe he has found it now.  My heart is heavy.

Goodbye Hyo.

What I Learned This Week

Yey for bullet lists!

• I learned that you should not count on a transmission.  Or rather, a second transmission.  A second transmission that you have because the first transmission was not to be relied on, either. 
• You should also never utter the words “It’s worth spending more than we want because it’s a Honda!  It will run forever!”  Guess what?  It won’t.  Quite possibly it will have a transmission failure.  Or two.
• Also quite possibly, American Honda will refuse to pay for the second transmission.  Because they suck.  Sorry, but it’s true.  If by some miracle they read this and reverse their position and recognize that since they issued a huge recall and paid for replacement transmissions, they should step up when those replacement transmissions fail as well (and fail within the original warranty period, too, I might add) then I will issue a retraction and an apology, and I will sing their praises from the rooftop.  But until then, you suck, American Honda. 
• I learned that I feel kinship with people who love a good run-on sentence as much as I do.
• I learned that if you’re in the market for a new minivan right now, you’re facing quite a dilemma.  I mean, Honda and Toyota were always ranked tops.  Yet now we’re dealing with multiple transmission failures and American Honda not taking responsibility for them (yup, I’m bitter) OR Toyota possibly accelerating the heck out of my crazy brood against our will.  Neither sound so appealing.  So whaddaya buy?
• I learned that sending your children to a different school – one where bus service is not an option – is extremely inconvenient when your car is in the shop.
• Moving on…I learned that children who wake in the middle of the night are hysterical.  They say such random things, I wish I had a recorder running at all times so that I never missed a moment.
• I learned that I can only take a very small amount of chewing with one’s mouth open before I’m forced to fight the urge to succumb to physical violence.  Close. Your. Mouth.
• I learned that despite Webkinz being quite possibly the dumbest most pointless toy imaginable, they are extremely interesting to 7-year-olds.  Particularly right after you’ve gotten rid of their Webkinz because they never ever played with it and because it’s dumb. 
• And, I learned that I suffer from Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome.  And here I thought it was just insomnia.  Of course the bad news is that since I still have to get up with the kids every morning, more than 3-4 hours of sleep a night won’t ever be possible for me.  But yey! for the diagnosis, huh?

If you’d like to read more, or share what YOU learned this week, hop on over to Musings of a Housewife!