Sigh. Virginia is kicking our butts this week. My bright teenager is struggling in his best subject in school (since sarcasm isn't exactly a class on the roster, it doesn't count), and has agreed to let us hire a math tutor. His teacher is a soul-sucking demon from hell, and he refuses to ask for help because she humiliates kids who ask for help. Since we've also removed all of his other distractions (I miss you, XBox. You were so good at keeping peace in the family. Sniff.), we've had to endure his slow, deliberate torture of each and every one of us by being insidiously annoying. He starts off funny, like singing loud and off-key along with the ipod, and before you know it you're clawing at the walls as he slips out of the room. I taught him everything he knows, I suppose it must be said.
Henry and Grace are doing well academically, but come home every day with a tale of how rude the kids have been and how much time the teachers have had to spend disciplining them. Grace hates drama club (I know, what!?) because no one takes drama as seriously as she does (flounce, huff, dramatic arm flourish, heavy sigh). Henry also got these little ramps put on the back of his braces, so he can't fully close his teeth. Somehow, he still manages to eat everything except vegetables. Olivia is suffering from Jack's free time. They are arch enemies, and Jack has been torturing her way more than usual. I don't generally do anything about it, because she usually starts it, and I'm trying to teach her that if she dishes it out, she'd better be able to take it. Also, there's a lot of Lightning Deals on Amazon this week, and I don't have time to be a hands-on parent.
I've been typing this post for about an hour, because my carpal tunnel is so bad right now that I can't even open a bottle of wine. This is where having a teenager with extra time on his limber hands comes in handy, however. Also, the dog ran away (but was later found down the street by Mitch). My 20-something library books are overdue and the library charges 30 cents per book, per day. Also, why isn't there any sourdough bread to be found on the east coast? And finally, my husband thinks I'm being too negative this week, which is so not true. Obviously. Why, just yesterday I was saying how pleased I was that no one has barfed this week (although we did run for a bowl last night!). If that's not positive, I don't know what is.
4 comments:
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
Hang in there, Kate!
Start your own sourdough bread. Tell Jack that his Gramps is thinking of him. That will bring a smile to his sarcastic face. Love you all.
I know! My kids used to live off of that sourdough bread we'd pick up every Saturday at the Everett Costco. What gives???
Post a Comment