It's a school post

When the First Day of School came around I made sure I drank a bottle of wine the night before. I left the kitchen dirty and didn't lay out the kids' outfits. The next morning I made school lunches out of whatever I had on hand. Which ended up being some pretty good stuff, so they got lucky. Breakfast was oatmeal. One was too hot and the other was too cold. I didn't style my daughter's hair because she thought it looked pretty the way it was (half up and half down). I barely found a Sharpie to write their names on their sweaters, backpacks and lunch bags.

We headed out the door to walk to school. I didn't walk my daughter all the way to her class because she spotted her pal and went with her. I was on the phone with  Mr. CEO so I just waved my son ahead and yelled "good luck!" to his back. Then I left.

I made sure I picked them up a little late. Don't want to seem to eager. I also didn't wear any makeup.

If there's anything I've learned as a mother (and wife for that matter) it's not to set the bar too high.  If they go a week with every outfit laid out perfectly clean and pressed then what happens on that morning you sleep in and are digging through the dirty laundry to find the cleanest shirt for them to wear? Lower your standards and theirs. Even the teachers! Don't sign and return all the forms right away.  They'll come to expect it if you're on time with everything. Lower the bar and when you pull good shit off you'll look like a damn hero.  I don't go the extra mile. I save that kind of stuff for when it's really important. Like school reports or dioramas.

Your kids love you no matter what. You don't get graded every Friday for how well you did. Other moms are not comparing notes to see who is doing a better job. So go easy on yourself.
Relax, it's just life.

A Dream Blog

When I was in high school I didn't graduate on time. I had a P.E. class that I ditched too many times and received an "incomplete". I was not allowed to walk at graduation or wear my cap and gown. I had to sit up in the stands with all the friends and family and pretty much cry through it. My own fault, but still. I had to sign up for summer school P.E. as an 18 year old who was finished with high school. The humiliation was great. My first summer after 'graduating' and I was stuck with a bunch of freshman and sophomore misfits playing dodgeball in one of the more run down schools.

I remember this one day I was so hungover from cheap margaritas and loads of tequila shots that I was actually sweating out margaritas. I stunk. 

I finished in a few weeks no worse for the wear and my dear friend, C and her mother threw me a graduation party. I wore my cap and gown and walked around the pool while they sang the graduation song.  It sounded like this "daaaaa da da da daaaaaaa daaaa. daaaaaa da da da daaaaaaa" if you said that out loud, congratulations! You could have been in the choir because that's what it sounded like. The school mailed me my diploma and I stuffed my face in my graduation cake. LITERALLY. It was everywhere.

Ever since then I have dreams that I have to go back to school. At 33 years old. And I'm trying to play it off like I'm one of them. Last night's dream had me back in PE. Two dancers came in and taught us this dance routine we were going to learn. Very fast and very complicated. I was worried because I obviously 1) can't learn that fast 2) can't move that fast and 3) can't even think that fast. I looked down at my glorious muffin top bursting out of the top of my pants and my tank top that wasn't holding anything in. *sigh* This wasn't going to be easy and it wasn't going to look pretty.  Everyone in the class started trying, learning step by step. I wasn't interested and since one of the male dancer was attractive I kept messing with my hair. up, down. up, down. I got up and walked to the back of the class to take off my denim jacket. The teacher was grading papers. I remembered I had an assignment that I forgot to turn in.

Next thing I know my dad walks into the class.  He's not happy but he is wearing a bitchin' leather coat.   Let it be said that I WANT that coat for reals. Anyway he looks disappointed. He goes over to the teacher who hands him an assignment with the word INCOMPLETE across the top. My dad signs it, looks at me, shakes his head and walks away.

WHAT THE HELL?? I watch him walk away, then look at the teacher, then look at the paper which, by the way, is for a HISTORY class. I decided right then and there I'm going to blog about it and submit it to the school paper. Such injustice in the world!

Then I wake up. I'm lying in bed hearing Mr T yelling "STAY IN SCHOOL, FOOL!"


The reoccurring part is that I'm back in school. I hate back to school dreams.

So that's it. That's the blog. BUT. The WEIRDEST PART, is my dad. I haven't spoken to my dad in like, 8 months. and now he keeps popping up in my dreams. Weeeeeeeeeeeird.

Alright bitches, I'll be back with more tomorrow. I have things to get off my chest. =)