I have been away for awhile because my mother-in-law fell and hurt her knee at work, so the kids and I moved in with her until my father-in-law got back into town. You'd think this would provide a couple thousand excellent blog posts, but sadly, I had access to only a laptop, and I can't type on those, which means no blogging about the last week.
The kids are going to stay with my other-mother-in-law this weekend, so I'm going to be doing some serious partying in the form of studying and cleaning the house and washing all the clothes and bathing the dog.
Here's another thing: Did you know they got rid of the extra space between sentences? When I was learning to type as a kid, there were TWO spaces between sentences. Now, all of a sudden, with no warning, someone decided there should only be one space. Right before I have to take a bunch of typing tests that require only one space. Who did this and what is the meaning of it? I don't think it's right to just arbitrarily change something so fundamental as the two spaces. That's like saying we should all start inhaling twice before we get to exhale. Or we all need to start looking behind us before we reverse the car, right? Ridiculous.
In other news, I have found a job. I found it, but I don't have it yet. The main requirements are smiling and the ability to run a cash register. I can do both of those things as long as I have coffee and nobody tells me what to do. That is what I plan to tell them at the interview, so I'm pretty sure I can land it, no problem.
I took two weeks off from homework and received a note from Huston's teacher about a report he didn't turn in. I should say, I allowed the kids to take off from homework, because they've had a rough week and I just couldn't fight them over it anymore. I warned Huston that he was going to get an "F" on his report, and he chose to flub it and take the grade. The note informed me of this fact. At the end, his teacher apologized for the "bad news". I wanted to move into her house as soon as I read it.
If there is a world where a third grader's F on a book report can be big enough of a deal to be labeled "bad news", I want to go to there. Please, take me there. Because in my house, "Daddy's in a coma" is bad news; "Grandma needs us to move in for a week" is bad news; even "Donovan has screamed for three days straight" is bad news. "The child who can nearly out read his mother got the first bad grade of his life because he was bored with the assignment" is akin to "Emma went outside barefoot and stepped on a sticker". It's not bad news, it's just sh*t that happens, yo. Here's how long I care about a bad grade he got because of laziness: As long as it takes for the report card to go from my hand into the trash can.
Not to say that it's ok for him to be lazy or disobedient with his schoolwork. He was punished for that part of it. I only mean that I just can't bring myself to work up a real good upset over it, because in the grand scheme of things, that book report isn't going to matter a bit. My sincere hope is that I can get to a point where I can worry about book reports and where my keys are and if my cell phone is charged and if someone is going to break into my car and who stepped on a sticker and who made their bed and where the dog went, because oh! what a beautiful world that would be.
Until then, I am going to try to convince Donovan that the people in Japan have it worse than he does this week, and maybe even convince myself that my bad news still pales in comparison to someone else's.
