Not exactly roughing it, but it'll be rough

I expect to have much to blog about in the very near future. Today we are taking the M.'s camping at a local state park.

But not on our own terms...

The Granola family used to be part of a home-schooling group and one of the families from that group has rented out a group camp in the state park...the kind of camp that hosts church and scouting groups. We've been invited to attend as well, even though we are bad parents who choose to send our kids to public school. (Sorry for the sarcasm I just dripped onto your computer.)

On the one hand, it'll be nice. This is not a "roughing it" kind of camping. There are indoor toilets, a big lodge with a well-equipped full kitchen and we'll be sleeping in a counselor cabin on cots, rather than on the ground. There is a pool and a big fire pit with benches for sitting on already available and more than likely stocked with wood. And we're only staying for one night. That's the one thing keeping Mr. EM and I from claiming that one of the boys is sick and bailing on the whole plan.

On the other hand, over the years they have turned what used to be a nice, relaxing weekend of easy camping into a hyper-scheduled, our-way-or-the-highway kind of work camp. There are scheduled meal times and planned-ahead "theme" meals. We have to prepare Spanish rice for 50 people tonight. No, we weren't asked if we could, we were TOLD that we would. (By the way, I highly recommend All Recipes if you need to change quantities for recipes. Made it a lot easier than I thought it would be.) There are scheduled activities...bingo, a talent show, arts and crafts, tie-dying...not that any of this is necessarily a bad thing, but if a family chooses not to participate in these events they are kind of...I know this sounds a little melodramatic but it's true...shunned during their stay. Not to mention the fact that Mr. EM and I have always considered camping to be a relaxing activity, where our kids are able to just kind of run wild while we sit in front of a fire, allowing our parenting duties to be limited to making sure they don't hurt themselves.

These families are the type that let their kids run wild all the time...don't get me wrong, they don't limit their parenting duties to making sure their kids hurt themselves...they don't have much, if any, structure to their lives. Most of the moms don't work, or work within their homes. Most of the kids are home-schooled in a very loose fashion. For all their open-mindedness, they are very...how can I put this?...militant about their opinions and choices and if you don't raise your kid the way they choose to raise theirs, you're WRONG. A few years ago we didn't take Big M. with us for one of the nights...someone asked "Where's your son?" and we replied, "We came up by ourselves for a date-night. He's with his grandparents. He'll be here tomorrow." And they looked at each other, looked at us and then said, "Oh...well, I guess that's important too." Another time, when Little M. was about 15 months old, I was filling up a sippy cup with water in the kitchen and a mom said, "Oh, I wouldn't have bothered bringing a cup up here if mine were still that little. Surely he's still nursing!" I explained that he'd been recently weaned due to a severe bout of poison ivy that I'd ended up needing medication for. She looked at me as if I'd grown three heads, then made a comment as she walked away that I couldn't actually hear, but I knew was something to the effect of how differently she'd have done things in my position. I swear, no one but Mrs. Granola talked to me for the rest of my stay.

So, why are we going? Well, because the M.'s will have a good time. Because we didn't go camping at all last year and they've both been asking and it's cheap and very close to home. Because it's only one night of not-so-much-fun for us and one whole night of lots-of-fun for them. And this year there are a few other families going that haven't gone in the past, people we know and like a lot that we haven't seen in a while. I'm sure it won't be nearly as bad as we've made it out to be in our minds. Mr. EM and I are just having a hard time getting ourselves into the right frame of mind.

And so, stand by, gentle readers. It may take a few days because this is my last week of school and I'll be busy, but a post about my camping adventure with the militant homeschool families will be forthcoming...

Carolina on my mind...

Ok, the children are fed, the laundry is done (though not put away, it just sits there in the living room taunting me), the groceries are nestled all snug in the pantry and fridge and the end-of-school responsibilities have been taken care of to the best of my abilities. Now is the time, gentle readers, for you to hear my story about our road trip to North Carolina.

Mr. EM took Thursday off so he could mow the grass, get his stuff packed (I'm a freak, I'm usually totally packed for trips a couple of days before-hand, he likes to make fun of me because of it), pick up the rental car, take the dog to the friends' who were keeping her, get the food we wanted to have in the car and...oh yeah, play golf with Dr. Student. I envisioned coming home from work that day to find that none of the above but the golf had been completed, but much to my pleasant surprise he'd actually done everything BUT the golf. It turns out Dr. Student partied a bit too hard the night before and didn't feel up to golfing, instead choosing to take some girl he'd met in a bar to the zoo. Mr. EM was not amused. I, on the other hand, was thrilled because he got all of that stuff done and we were able to get on the highway as soon as we dropped off Little M. at 8:00 on Friday morning.

We'd been on the road about an hour when we realized we'd forgotten the camera. Sigh. Oh well, what could we do? Mr. EM suggested picking up a disposable camera at one of our gas stops, but I declined. It wasn't as if we'd be snapping pictures the whole trip. No biggie.

Once we were out of range of local radio stations, Mr. EM suggested I plug in his iPod. The rental company who shall remain nameless (cough Enterprise cough) had given us a Toyota Yaris. Are you all familiar with the Yaris, gentle readers? It's teeny-tiny...but it gets AMAZING gas mileage (From St. Louis to Raleigh on $50, seriously!) and with the seat pushed all the way back I had plenty of room for my Amazon legs, so it was all good. Anyhoo, I plugged in the Monster, hooked up the iPod and...nothing. The outlet(?) didn't work. So, we found ourselves scanning through various Christian and new-country radio stations for about an hour and a half before Mr. EM said, "When we stop for gas we're looking for a Target." There was an auxiliary jack in the car we could use, he just didn't have that particular cable for his iPod. (Can you tell I don't fully know all the proper techie terms here?) We stopped for gas in Lexington, Kentucky, and asked the heavily pierced gas clerk where the nearest Target was. He gave us directions for one about a mile up the road and it only took us almost half an hour to get there, for crying out loud. The traffic was INSANE in that little area. We bought the cord we needed, hopped back on the highway to the tunes of Steely Dan and were on our way.

Now, let me tell you, gentle readers, that I understand why some people drive through the Midwest and comment on the beauty of our amber waves of grain and vast expanses of prairie for miles and miles and miles. However, when you live around it all your life it's a little ho-hum. Kentucky, on the other hand, has those lovely rolling hills and pretty green trees for as far as my eyes could see. We then drove into the Appalachian mountains of West Virginia, which we'd been through in the fall the last time we drove this way. Springtime in the mountains is FREAKIN' GORGEOUS. It had rained a little before we'd been through, which only added to the scenery. I could have stared out my window for days...

Down through Virginia, finally into North Carolina right around dark. Mr. EM was starting to get a little cranky. He kept asking me to consult our directions because, "Surely it's not supposed to take us this long," and "I don't think we're going the right way, we should be there by now"...this coming from a man who told me before we left, "You know we're going to be on the road for about 13 hours, don't you?" As if I was the one who'd get antsy. I continued to reassure him that we were going the right way, it seemed longer because we'd gained an hour driving into the Eastern Time Zone. Apparently he hadn't thought about that. We left Super Sitter's house at 8:05 am. We arrived at the Super 8 in Garner, North Carolina, at 10:30 pm. Factor in a couple of gas/pee stops, our sojourn to Target in Lexington and the time change...BAM, 13 hours, sir. (I didn't actually say that to him, he was crabby enough as it was.)

We didn't have much of an agenda for Saturday, with the exception of H.'s party, which didn't start until 4:00. Mr. EM found that he needed some band-aids for a couple of blisters on his hand, so after a delicious complimentary breakfast of bad coffee and stale muffins, we asked the hotel clerk where the nearest Target, Wal-Mart or Walgreens was. He asked us what we needed to buy...which was a little weird. We told him "just some toiletries", so he gave us directions to a grocery store down the street. Um, ok? Then his wife said, "There's a Target near there." Cool...except there was no Target near the grocery store. (And later, we found out from H. that there is no Target in Garner at all.) There was a Walgreen's though, so we were able to get what we needed. On our way back to the hotel we scanned the area for a coffee shop of some kind, but came up empty. Sigh. We nixed the idea of asking the hotel clerks if there was even a Starbucks nearby because we didn't want them to direct us to a laundromat or something equally asinine so we contented ourselves with some sodas for our caffeine fix instead.

A friend I've known since first grade (Your James Dean friend, Jill!) now lives near Garner and I hadn't seen him in years, so I gave him a call when we were looking for places to eat lunch. We chatted for a while and then he said he'd come out to lunch with us, if we could give him about an hour to shower and get over to us. After about an hour and a half, I wondered aloud why he hadn't made it over yet and realized that I hadn't turned my phone on yet that day. (I had called him from Mr. EM's phone) When I turned it on, he'd left a message saying that he was waiting in the hotel parking lot for us. I called him back, but he'd already left, thinking he'd been at the wrong hotel. Yeah, I'm cool like that. He had to work that evening and was going to be busy on Sunday, so we never did hook up with him. I couldn't believe I was such an ass for not having my phone on...and Mr. EM got to have one of those rare husband-gloating moments because he's always giving me a hard time for not having my phone on. Bully for him.

At 4:00, off to the party we went. We were that dorky couple who shows up first, way earlier than anyone else. It was all good though. Mr. EM and H.'s husband had become fast friends the last time we visited and they were able to hang out a little bit before other guests arrived and he became too busy with party details to socialize. The next couple to arrive was B. and K. and they were delightful...even Mr. EM thought so and he usually doesn't think anyone is "delightful". (Except for you, I'm sure, Jill.) It was just one of those rare occasions where all four of us had a lot in common and we just "clicked". We sat in the living room getting to know each other as the rest of the guests buzzed in past us. Honestly, I think we could have stayed in that one spot talking for the rest of the night, we enjoyed each other so much. But, soon someone popped their head in to say the birthday girl was on her way and everyone should congregate outside for her arrival.

H.'s husband had told her he was "having a little something at the house", but she had no idea the extent of his guest list. He asked all the out-of-town guests to sit behind the locals so she wouldn't see us at first. She pulled up, jumped out of her car to a rousing "Happy birthday, H.!" and came running over, doling out hugs to all the folks standing. It didn't take long for her to look over their shoulders and see her far-away friends grinning up at her. And that was the moment I wished like hell we'd brought a camera because the look on her face was absolutely PRICELESS! I don't know if I've ever seen such a perfect expression of utter surprise and love and joy rolled up in one smile. Not only did we show up from Illinois, there were people from Pennsylvania, Ohio, Maryland and even Germany. Tears rolled down her face as she hugged (crushed) each one of us and from that moment on it was a par-tay. Good food, great beer and a decadent chocolate-raspberry cake, plus plenty of tunes from H.'s youth being blared over the speakers. Though we were surrounded by people we didn't know, Mr. EM and I had a fantastic time. I was so happy we'd made it out there for this party.

H. pleaded with us to come by the house the following morning before we left, "I'll make you guys some breakfast and we have good coffee, so you can fill up your travel mugs for the road." (She knows us so well!) Well, we stopped by, but the house was silent and dark. We left them a note of thanks for the good time and promised to call later from the road. We set out for a different route than the one we'd taken in, hoping to see as much of the country as we could, so we drove through western North Carolina into Tennessee. We hit some nasty storms going through the winding Great Smoky mountains, and let me tell you, the Yaris was not the most reassuring vehicle to be in at that time. However, we got through it all just fine and set our sights on Nashville as a stopping point for the night. We had been very frugal with money the whole trip and decided to go with a nicer hotel than a Super 8 for our stopover. We were making such good time that we went ahead and drove past Nashville, stopping at a Hampton Inn in Springfield, TN. It was quite comfortable and had the very best complimentary breakfast I'd ever had in a hotel. At 10:00 on Monday morning, we packed up the Yaris, figuring we'd be home with the M.'s by around 4:00ish. Yeah, right...

Mr. EM started the car and "DING", a couple of warning lights popped up on the dashboard: "Cool" and "Check Engine". Hmmm...Mr. EM checked the owner's manual, then saw that the fan in the engine wasn't working. The manual said to contact our nearest Toyota dealer if that happened. Instead we called roadside assistance of the rental company that shall remain nameless. (cough Enterprise cough) Here's where my road trip story takes a dramatic turn...see, we were told that it was a holiday and their offices were closed, but they'd be happy to pay for another night in our hotel and have a replacement car for us in the morning, Tuesday morning, the same morning that both Mr. EM and I had to be back at work and Big M. had to be at school. Mr. EM told them that was unacceptable and a short game of phone-tag ensued, as he was passed on to supervisors and managers and various other higher-ups in the company who could only reiterate that it was a holiday and they were terribly sorry for our inconvenience but that was the best they could offer.

(Here's where I should interject that Mr. EM is not the most patient person on the planet, particularly at moments like this where he is inconvenienced beyond the realm of his control and through no fault of his own. I'm still marvelling at how well he kept his cool throughout this whole ordeal because it was quite a sight to behold.)

The hotel clerk said, "You know, you're only about 40 minutes from the Nashville airport. Surely their rental car counters are open today. Maybe they'd be able to set you up." Good idea! Mr. EM called them back and asked if they pay for us to take a cab to the airport, and they said they would. So, off to the airport we went...for $50, for crying out loud. At the rental counter that shall remain nameless (cough Enterprise cough) we explained our plight, the clerk checked our contract and said she'd just need someone in St. Louis to authorize the rental and we could be on our way. Sigh, if only it were that easy. She was on the phone with St. Louis for a very long time and when she got off she informed us that they would not authorize another car for us until the one we'd driven was towed to the airport, which would probably take a couple of hours. (Insert my frustrated face along with Mr. EM's thoroughly pissed-off face here) We took a seat, I called Super Sitter to tell her what was going on and we waited.

And waited and waited and waited and waited and waited and...well, you get the picture. A "couple of hours" turned into 5 and a half. During that long wait, Mr. EM got back on the phone with roadside assistance who assured him that (first call) the car was on its way and (second call) the tow truck was stuck in traffic about 20 minutes from the airport and (third call) the car was there, waiting to be checked in. After that last call, Mr. EM stormed up to the counter and asked what was going on. Unfortunately, the tow truck had dropped the car off at the Hertz drop-off instead of the rental company that shall remain nameless (cough Enterprise cough). Personally, I think we were dealing with on pissed-off tow truck driver who didn't appreciate having to work on Memorial Day and decided to drop the car off at the first place he could, but that's just me. Anyway, the St. Louis office was called to confirm that the Yaris was safely at the Nashville airport and they...promptly DENIED us a replacement car because our contract did not authorize us to take the Yaris out of state in the first place. (No, I'm not kidding. This seriously happened. I swear the poor people who'd been trying to help us out all day looked totally embarrassed to have to pass that information on to us.) By this time it was 5:-freakin'-30 pm and Mr. EM lost his cool..."Are you f&*%ing kidding me? When I picked up that car the guy asked me where we were going and we had a whole conversation about how beautiful North Carolina is and how he has a cousin who went to Duke University. It's not our fault that he didn't check some f&*%ing box on the contract! We have to get home tonight and I want to know what you're going to do about it!" Unfortunately, they had the advantage of our signed contract that didn't have that f&*%ing box checked and simply were not obligated to help us out. We both stomped up to the National rental counter, rented a $200 Mitzubishi Galant and got the hell out of Nashville as fast as we could. It was after 11:00 when we got home. The boys just stayed at Super Sitter's house that night and the next day, because I couldn't take off work and Mr. EM worked in the morning but used an afternoon off to storm the gates of the rental car company that shall remain nameless. (cough Enterprise cough)

Of course they were very sorry for our inconvenience. (By the way, Duke University's cousin was there and said, "How was your North Carolina trip?" when he saw Mr. EM. He promply admitted his mistake to his boss and apologized profusely to Mr. EM.) They offered to credit our account a marginal amount of money and give us a free future rental. (Because after such impeccable service we will most certainly rent from them again, you know.) Mr. EM said, "Not good enough." Well, after that offer they just didn't know what else they could do for us. Mr. EM told them to just never mind, he'd contact their corporate office and the Better Business Bureau and take care of it from that end. Which is what he did...

Well, he didn't end up contacting the Better Business Bureau because he FINALLY got someone to listen to him at the corporate office who was totally appalled at what we had to go through. This morning he faxed over our original receipt for the Yaris, the receipt for the ride to the Nashville airport and the receipt for the Galant. All of it will be reimbursed. As for the future free rental, well we don't know if we're still getting that or not. If we are, we'll use it to go some place within Illinois (prepare ye, Jill, we may take a Chicago trip with the M.'s this summer), so that if anything happens, we're on familiar ground. If not, we don't really care. We will never, ever rent from the car rental company that shall remain nameless (cough Enterprise cough).

Did you notice that? I seem to have something just awful stuck in my blogging throat...(cough Enterprise SUCKS cough...ah, much better!)

And because I'm the loser who forgot the camera, here's a picture of me and H. from our trip out to NC in 2004, on the beach in Wilmington...

A funny little bit of something...

My friend's husband wrote this post on his blog about their 5 year old son last fall and it's so darn funny, I wanted to share...

Like any good and sensitive father, I love my son more than my life. But I have come to the heartbreaking conclusion that my dear, smart, cute, strong, funny little five-year-old boy is a conservative. Why? I’ll give you why:

•He refuses to accept the truth, no matter how you may frame it to make it easier for him. He will deny reality itself if it makes him more comfortable. (“No, Dinosaurs are still alive!”)
•If a situation develops that he can’t resolve in a few minutes, usually involving sharing limited resources, he turns to violence.
•He loves his mom and dad, but his world is completely focused on himself. For example, if he doesn’t get a new toy nearly every day to add to his already massive collection, pouting and whining ensues.
•If he has done something I told him not to, or not done something I asked him to, he lies about it. With a smile, too. And when I catch him at it, he continues to deny it.
•No matter how much we discourage it, he loves his guns and swords and instruments of bodily damage. They’re all toys, of course. For now.
•As far as he’s concerned, girls shouldn’t have the right to choose. Anything.
•He thinks he has an endless reserve of funds to use for whatever he wants to do. In fact, finances don’t concern him at all. Incurring debt that someone else has to pay (me) for his own enjoyment is of no object to him. Deficits don’t matter!
•I often have to bribe him to get him to help me.
•He can be very frightened of trying new things.
•It sometimes takes the threat of incarceration to force him to clean up his own mess.
•We have to remind him to say “please” and “thank you” and flush the toilet and put his dishes away, and all the other things people should do as a courtesy to others.
•As sweet as he is, compassion and altruism (and along with those, empathy) are only vaguely understood concepts, to be tried intermittently and usually for a concrete gain.
•And in response to criticism of this little piece, like conservatives, he just doesn’t quite get irony, let alone satire.

It’s a good thing that I’m confident that, as his mother and I raise him, he’ll develop judgment and learn how to interact with others pleasantly. And that he’ll become not necessarily a liberal or Democrat, but a sensible and productive member of society who bases his decisions on logic, knowing when to listen to his heart and when to overrule its quick urges. It’s a good thing he still prefers “Noggin” to “Faux News.”

They are wonderful parents and I certain that their darling boy will one day grow up to be a fine and compassionate man...much like his daddy. This just tickled me because it's so very, very true. I'd link his blog, but he rarely updates it and while Mr. EM finds it fascinating...many of you, gentle readers, will not.

(And I'm still working out a post about our NC trip in my head...not to mention seeking out enough time to actually compose it. I'm sure you're all glued to your monitors waiting for it. Sorry about that.)

Home sweet home...

We're back from North Carolina. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. I promise a post about it in the near future, but tonight I'm just too damn tired. I've read all your posts that I missed during my holiday weekend, but I commented on very few because I'm just too damn tired. For now, I will leave you with this...

The south-eastern part of the United States is abso-freakin'-lutely GORGEOUS to drive through.

and

Never, ever rent a car from Enterprise over a holiday weekend...or ever, for that matter.

That's all for now. Time to collapse on the couch. Night-night.

Road trip, coming soon to an Earth Muffin near you!

I've been too busy to blog these days. Work is crazy and either Mr. EM or I or both of us have had stuff going on after work every day for the past two weeks. Little M.'s birthday wound up being a 4-celebration affair, for crying out loud. There's been yard work to be done, a house to be cleaned, meals to be prepared and children to be tended to. Life has become exhausting and the Mr. and I agree that we need a vacation.

So we're taking one!

On Friday morning we are seeing Big M. off on his bus, then we are dropping Little M. off at Super Sitter's and then we are heading to North Carolina for my college friend, H.'s, 40th birthday party! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

It's going to be a pretty quick trip and much of it will be spent on the road, due to expensive-ass flights. I don't care. I miss spending time alone with my man and 12 hours there and back, just us in a car with an iPod, sounds absolutely heavenly. We haven't taken a road trip of this magnitude since before we were married. We'll get into our hotel sometime Friday night, the party is on Saturday, Sunday we'll hang with H. and her husband (Mr. EM's far-away BFF) for a while and then hit the road again, driving halfway. Monday we'll hit the home stretch, pick up the boys and collapse into bed just in time for work on Tuesday.

It may sound a little crazy to do all that driving for a very, very, very short vacation, but we don't care. We need it, so we're doing it. And I can't flipping wait!

The M.'s will be with my parents on Friday and Saturday night, then Super Sitter is going to take them camping with her family on Sunday. They are thrilled beyond belief. They feel like they're getting a vacation too...and I guess they are. Win-win situation, gentle readers!

So, that's what's going on around here.

Oh yeah, and I just started read the first book in the Sookie Stackhouse series, Dead Until Dark. This is the series that the HBO show, True Blood, is based on. It's fluff, to say the least, but it's kick-ass fluff. It's Twilight for adults and that's just the kind of thing I need to shut my mind off to stress. If you're into hot vampires, check it out. (And thanks for the recommendation, EBM and Katie!)

I knew it couldn't be my fault...

Big M. is home sick today and I'm home with him. Funny, I took him to the doctor for a routine check-up yesterday and he was the picture of health..."Heart, lungs, eyes, ears and stomach all look and sound good!" Then last night he started coughing and complaining of a sore throat. I chalked it up to seasonal allergies, turned on the humidifier in his room, gave him a cough drop and sent him to bed. This morning at 5:00 am he came into our room, crying and coughing as if he's been smoking 3 packs a day his whole life..."I don't feel good, Mom!" I called for a sub (an adventure that may become another post for another time), ran Little M. to daycare and have spent my day...

About a boy...

Two weeks old, already telling us how it's gonna be.


Opening a gift from "Auntie" Jill on his first birthday!


Nurturing his inner Keith Moon on Big M.'s drum kit.


3rd birthday cheese...a rare smile for the camera.


Tie-dye shirt and powdered sugar on his nose...that's my boy!

Happy 4th birthday, Little M.! Thanks for always keeping things interesting around here...I love you!

Because if we didn't laugh, this job wouldn't be worth it...

Happy Mother's Day!

Thank a teacher

If you don't have kids in public schoo and/or you don't work in a public school, you may not know that this is Teacher Appreciation Week.

At my school the PTA has a little get-together with food for us after school one day and they give us a little gift. The food was yummy and the gift was a lunch tote and a water bottle, practical and nice. My boss through the special education cooperative is giving us spiffy shirts, we got to pick the color. Also nice! The principal in my building is providing lunch for us tomorrow and the superintendent had enough donuts to feed a small army in the teachers' lounge yesterday morning. It's nice to be appreciated by the adults you work with.

It gets a little better than that for me this year though. This morning as I was unlocking my classroom door, 2 students, a brother and sister, walked past me carrying a box. The girl said, "Wait, we have to give one to Mrs. Earth Muffin!" Her brother looked at me with zero recognition on his face...I'm not well-known around the building because my kids pretty much stay in the room with me all day and the students that are aware of me usually know me because I've had to discipline them in some way. I'm often referred to as the "mean teacher". However, earlier in the year each teacher was assigned a team of students they don't normally interact with to put together a talent skit and this girl happened to be on my team. We'd had a good time together those three days that we put together their act, building a human pyramid and I remembered her rather fondly, as she was a particularly bubbly and sweet girl. She pulled out a baggie filled to the brim with candy and said, "Happy Teacher Appreciation, Mrs. Earth Muffin!" First of all, how awesome is it to get a bag full of candy (mostly chocolate, thankyouverymuch) to stash in my desk? Secondly, kudos to those parents for raising a pair of kids who would take it upon themselves to bring tokens of appreciation for every teacher in the building. Maybe the world isn't quite on its way to hell in handbasket just yet.

And then this afternoon...There's a 6th grader in my building who was a student in Mr. EM's building last year. Mr. EM was his "Bulldog Buddy", meaning the kid was struggling a little (or a lot, as the case was) and Mr. EM was in charge of spending some one-on-one time with him, just to give a little self-esteem boost and positive adult attention. This boy really liked Mr. EM a lot and when he discovered who I was earlier this year, I became cool by association. A few weeks ago I noticed this boy getting into a confrontation in the cafeteria and I intervened, offering for him to sit at our table instead of mingling with kids he regularly had problems getting along with. He jumped at the opportunity and now he doesn't just sit with us in the cafeteria, he spends his post-lunch study hall with us. I'm not stupid, I can certainly see how this kid has earned his well-desevered reputation for being Trouble, but he doesn't give me or my students a hard time at all.

Anyway...point? Where are you? I know you're around here somewhere. Ah yes, my point...today after lunch we're heading up to the classroom and he asks me if I'll be teaching in the junior high next year and I say yes. He then says, "I think I'd like to be in your class next year." I did a double-take, then thought "way to aim high, kid", then asked him if he realized what kind of class I taught. He said, "Yeah, kids with behavior problems. I get in trouble a lot." I explained that it took a bit more than a mountain of discipline referrals to qualify for my classroom and that he should really work on NOT getting into trouble a lot instead of throwing himself into the special ed. abyss that is BD. He said, "Well, you're the nicest teacher that works at this school, so I want to be in your class. You listen to me before you punish me." Awww...

I'm quite certain that if this boy was in my class our relationship would be much different. Right now, I don't put any pressure on him, I don't have many expectations for him to live up to and he's only with me during the most free part of my students' day. I told him as such and also told him that all the teachers in our building are "nice" teachers, he just had to show all of them the same kid he showed me on a daily basis.

However, it's nice to be appreciated.

For Baker...

I took Big M. to see a production of "The Wiz" at our local high school last night. It was very good. He enjoyed it and I was impressed with the quality of the performances and the amazing auditorium. Glinda sang a song that I was particularly moved by...and it made me think of my dear friend, Baker. She's going through a hard time right now, one that will be good for her in the long run but I'm sure is painful for her to deal with in the here and now. I had a hard time finding a decent version of this song on YouTube, but I finally stumbled upon this one. The video is a little grainy, but the woman singing has an incredible voice. Enjoy...



Dear Baker,
You're doing the right thing.
Love, Earth Muffin

Oh, what a beautiful morn...oh, just shut up!

Little M. has developed an annoying habit of waking up before 6:30 on Saturday mornings. Last weekend Mr. EM got up with him, so today it was my turn. And in the mature, cooperative, marital-compromise kind of way, I'm cool with that. Neither one of us should have to be the one that gets up with him at the butt-crack of dawn every single weekend. Mr. EM actually gives me more than my fair share of sleeping in on weekends on a regular basis, so if he wants to take a Saturday morning to sleep in a little bit every once in a while then he should.

However...

In the pissy, whiney, immature, bitchy, super-tired kind of way, I HATE GETTING UP ON THE WEEKENDS AT THE SAME TIME I GET UP FOR WORK DURING THE WEEK. It's one of my "things". Weekends are for sleeping in and that's just the way of the universe, for pete's sake. Now that neither of my children rely on me as a food source, I should not be required to wake up any earlier than, say, 8:00 on a Saturday morning. See, I'm not a teen-ager. I'm not asking to sleep until noon. 8:00 am isn't that absurd, is it? Huh, Little M.?

In general, I don't like to do anything on a Saturday morning other than sip on some strong Sumatran coffee, throw some laundry in the washer and read...maybe make a grocery list, do some tidying up. I do all of this in my pajamas and in my own time. It's not unusual to find me still in pajamas and/or a robe at 1:00 on a Saturday afternoon. If I'm not going anywhere, I see no reason to put on clothes. I long ago stopped deluding myself into thinking that Saturday morning yoga classes were a good idea for me, I long ago decided that garage-saling would not be the hobby for me and I regularly thank the powers that be that Big M. is not interested in baseball or soccer, therefore keeping me from having to attend games at some ungodly hour on Saturday mornings. Actually, Big M. seems to be following in my footsteps with the whole sleeping on a Saturday morning thing. (*sniff* I'm so proud...) He also prefers to make a mellow start to his weekend, lazing about in his p.j.'s, playing video games, eating breakfast in front of the TV, reading...until very late in the morning or sometimes even carrying into the afternoon. I'm not embarrassed to admit that on occasion in the winter, we'll stay in pajamas all day. Seriously, if we have no intention of going anywhere, what's the point in getting dressed? It's not as if we're adverse to going out, but we're not going to initiate contact with society either. Pajamas are comfortable, people!

I have a sinking feeling that Little M. is going to be different from his brother on this topic...as he is in regards to practically everything else. Not only was he awake at 6:15 this morning, he was also fully dressed for crying out loud. "It is good moaning, Mama," he practically screamed in my ear. (Or he just said it at a normal volume, whatever.) I quickly shuttled him out of our room to keep him from waking Mr. EM and attempted unsuccessfully to explain that it was too early to wake up. "No, Mama! Silly! I want some soup and then go outside and play bubbles." (He always asks for soup on Saturday mornings, despite the fact that I always say soup is not breakfast food.) Needless to say, he had to be satisfied with some peanut butter toast and carrots, in addition to blowing bubbles in the house rather than out in the front yard. The boy has a lust for life and wants to get his day started ASAP. In his humble opinion, sleep is for the weak.

Consider me weak, Little M. Mommy's tired.

Something tells me that he will be my child that plows head-first into any and every activity that's offered to him...and that many of these activities will involve me shuttling him around at some ridiculous hour on Saturday mornings. I see rain-soaked October mornings on soccer fields and hot, humid June mornings at baseball diamonds in my future. While it fills me with joy to think about the kind of person Little M. will grow up to be, it fills me with dread to think that my blissfully empty Saturday mornings will be a thing of the past sooner than I'd like and that will continue until Little M. is driving.

I know some people who get up bright and early on Saturday mornings (on purpose!) and actually prefer it that way. They do their errand-running, clean their houses, do yard work, whatever, all before noon. WTF? They make the point that getting everything done early leaves them the rest of their day to relax...ok, I guess I can understand that logic, in an alternate-universe kind of way. "The stores are less crowded and it's so peaceful in our neighborhood early in the day." Um, yeah...that's because the sane people are still SLEEPING!!!

And believe me when I tell you, it's certainly not as though I'm up partying into the wee hours on Friday nights. I almost never go out on Friday nights...I'm too freakin' tired from working and momming all week long. Last night consisted of making the M.'s some dinner, futzing around on the internet, paying some bills and watching "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban" with the M.'s until they both fell asleep around 9:00. I got them into their beds and then ate a bowl of ice cream, flipping channels on TV until just after 11:00. Nothing wild and crazy going on around here that requires me to need a lot of rest...I just enjoy sleeping. Is that so wrong? Huh, Little M.?

I'm not much for napping however. I used to be...when Little M. was a nursing baby and sleep was a precious and much-eluded commodity, I'd snuggle up with him on weekend afternoons and snooze for as long as he allowed. However, naps have always messed with my nighttime sleeping, regardless of how short they may be. I nap when I'm sick and that's about it. Mr. EM digs napping, but he's gluttonous in his approach. If he can't get at least 2 hours, it's "not a nap". I know...ridiculous, but that's how he feels and he's damn crabby if he heads upstairs for a nap and isn't granted his full amount of time. Little M. naps most of the time at his day-care, but I have a theory that the only reason is because everyone else is napping. Around here, he's way too interested in what Big M. may be doing or what Mr. EM has going on outside or what I'm cooking or cleaning. A nap is very, very low on his list of priorities at home. There are occasions when I'll realize I haven't heard from him in a little while and I'll find him asleep on the floor in front of his toybox or sprawled on the loveseat with a Power Ranger in each hand snoring away, but those are few and far between.

And so, this Saturday began for me at 6:15 am (dammit) and I've had enough coffee now that the cobwebs have cleared from my mind and I'm already planning my day. One load of laundry has already made it into the dryer and another is washing as I type. There is a little cleaning to do and then I'll be taking Little M. to Borders to meet up with some other moms (it's a new thing I'm trying, may be a blog post in there somewhere). At some point I'll need to pull together a grocery list for shopping tomorrow and tonight I'm taking Big M. to see "The Wiz" at our local high school. Maybe I'll get to spend a little quality time with my husband somewhere in there? That remains to be seen...

Sundays are a somewhat different story for me. I like to sleep in a little, but not too late because it will keep me up too late that night, which then creates the vicious cycle of being sleep-deprived on Monday morning. I'm every bit as adverse to getting dressed and going out on Sunday mornings (we're not church folk), but I'm much more productive around the house. I like the house to be clean and tidied up before I start another work-week, so there is much scrubbing, dusting and vacuuming going on Sundays. Laundry gets put away, clothes for Monday get set out and a big dinner is cooked so I have leftovers for my work lunches. Sundays just aren't as lazy as Saturdays...maybe that can be switched around as the boys get older and our Saturdays get busier.

DISCLAIMER: I'm not such a freak that every single weekend of my life follows this pattern. This is just a general outline of what weekends can be like in the Land of Earth Muffin.

So, how do you feel about sleeping in on Saturdays? Are you a normal person who enjoys waking whenever you wake or are you one of those bizarre freaks of nature who actually gets up at some abnormal hour no matter what day it is? Not that I'm judging you or anything...