A Day's Worth of Thoughts

Junie B. Jones cracks me up. Well, I guess the author Barbara Park is the one to actually give credit to, but it's the voice of Junie B. (in my head and as I speak it to Tasha) that is actually making me laugh. Tasha was cracking up at the end of one of her stories tonight and I typically will have to stop reading at some point during each chapter. She named her Raggedy Ann doll "Raggedy Ruth", and her companion is "Raggedy Larry." Can you imagine the discussion that would have gone down with the parents and child trying to explain that the dolls already had names? And then her stuffed animal elephant is named "Philip Johnny Bob." Three first names, and she uses them all each time. Guess you have to read it to understand. There have been several occasions that I have thought of posting a page of one of her more crazy conversations.

The officer that works at McKemy is quite the traffic cop. He has cars and buses moving in and out of that place like it's no body's business. At first I thought he was out there to actually police the streets and send people on their way which would just be a nightmare. Much to my delight however, I realized that he was making things easier and having people break traffic rules to get things moving. Amen to that cop! And yes Bill, I rolled down my window and thanked him. He said, "Well, what can you do? This school was built in the 50's it wasn't prepared for this." Super cool.

I thought an Open House was just that, "open". I thought it meant that you could come and go like the wind, in and out at your pleasure, no formal gathering or lectures. I was wrong. Next time I'll read the parent letter and discover that when the school has an open house, the first grade has a parent meeting. Maybe then I'll be on time.

Only at a Waldorf school will a parent raise their hand and ask, "can you speak to the rhythm of the day?" I think I did an audible gasp as I choked on my Waldorf salad, realizing that I absolutely will never quite fit in at DMS. In her defense, she apparently works at the school and is accustomed to using such terminology. But I tell ya, the first time I hear someone say "pedagogy" it is going to take all my energy to not shove my pedi-somethin' in their mouth. Just sayin'. I guess I'm just not that learn-ed, edjumicated, or at least not that eloquent.

Tasha just needs to feel useful. All week long she's been a gem. (And by week I'm talking about the last 5-6 days, not just since Sunday!) She's had chores to do and sewing to complete and has kept her room picked up. Maybe she's just growing into her 6 year old body and is ready to start first grade, who knows? Today she single-handedly took care of Payton (willingly!) while I helped Kyra through a rough patch of Monday morning, second week of school, blues. Love it!

The end of "summer" (like the official meaning of summer, not the heat that is Arizona) is upon us. I'm going to have to give up my Sonic vice. I've gotten very accustomed to happy hour at Sonic and a ginormous cranberry limeade. Yum.

I might just fit in at DMS. Bill pointed out that another mother said, "what if sewing that thing just isn't going to happen at my house?" That makes me chuckle. Sewing is something I can do. Sing-song voice and rythmic morning (I've got a post in the works for that one) are just not in me. Neither are granola/earthy/organic meals/clothes/school supplies. Just not happenin'. Sorry.

And back to Junie B. Here's a quote of hers from school. Her teacher, "Mrs." ('cuz that's the only part of her name that Junie B. likes) is coming toward her desk because she's in trouble. "Guess what? I am going to do my work now, " I said. "Plus also, I am not even going to talk. 'Cause I don't actually like anyone in this area." I don't know if we should all be a little more or a little less Junie B. like.

If, after a friend was your house, they break something and then call and apologize for it and you forget to call them back and tell them it wasn't a problem, do you then become the lame friend? I mean, I got the message a week ago and can't even remember what was busted. I hope they weren't thinking I was ticked or something.

Peanut butter and chocolate really do go well together.

When you own a truck, everyone calls you when they are moving. When you own a van, everyone calls you for a ride. I enjoy the latter, and am grateful we don't own a truck.