If you read part 1, you know that school started for my kids three weeks ago and that thus far their “regular”school bus driver was present and accounted for precisely five of those fifteen school days, having taken a smattering of days off, culminating in a full blown week-long scheduled vacation. This leaves me wondering whether announcing that she was our “regular” school bus driver wasn’t referring to her bowel habits and not her work habits.
So today she was back from her vacation. Well, maybe she was. She didn’t come back to work though. Is she coming back or isn’t she? Did she flee to destinations unknown? I have no idea if school bus drivers have many advancement opportunities but I didn’t think they had any embezzlement opportunities.
Meanwhile in her absence, my kids’ bus route has had various revolving school bus drivers.
In my newest little eBook, I have a chapter called:
“The School Bus Situation: Because every year there is indeed ‘a school bus situation’.” This is no exaggeration. My triplets are just starting sixth grade. The first week of school is always that adjustment period. Teachers are getting to know the kids. Kids are getting to know the teachers. Where do we sit? What time is lunch? Now that they’re in middle school there’s even more to get used to: Where’s my locker? How do I get to my next class? What time does the bell ring? And this period of adjustment extends to the bus drivers. Where’s the stop? Who’s at the bus stop? What’s the bus route? The only difference is: By the end of the first two weeks, teachers and kids have pretty much settled in… and “the school bus situation” is just getting revved up.
Back-to-School time always sneaks up on me. If you’ve read previous posts, you’ll know that I’m typically between two weeks and eight years behind on everything. And this “policy” of mine, for lack of a better term, doesn’t discriminate: It applies equally to doing the laundry as it does to filling out camp registration forms to putting sunscreen on my children. But this year, turning around and finding that back-to-school time has sneaked up on me and smacked me in the ass isn’t really just because of my “policy”. Do they have year-round schools where you live? I’ve never quite gotten the hang of those. And I’d better get the hang soon… because my kids will be starting one in two weeks.
Last week I discussed how slow-moving we are in this house when it comes to getting things done. I mentioned that when we picked this 4+ bedroom house ten years ago, we had specifically done so, so that each of my triplets could eventually have his or her own room, I could have my own office, and that would leave a total of zero rooms available for anyone to ever even consider coming to live with us. My husband Lloyd and I don’t really care what relatives think of us as long as they don’t think of us as the couple with the spare bedroom.
Have you ever planned a kid’s birthday party? Or 2? Or 3? At the same time? So next month is my kids’ 11th birthday party. Yeah, “kids'”. There are three of them. Triplets… and they’d each like to have their own separate birthday party. Why not? How hard can that be? I’m sure David Tutera could pull it off during the commercials. Maybe I’ll schedule the parties just like the kids were born: Three minutes apart.
Continuing with our series: “If You KNEW You Would be pregnant tomorrow, what would you say…” (Check out the first 2 blog posts: “…What would you say… to your doctor?” and “… to your friends” (specifically friends with kids who have irritated you, upset you, depressed you, and angered you no end throughout your infertility struggles. http://laughingisconceivable.com)) So now, how about your family?
So today is the last day of us looking back at some fan fave posts of the past year+. Hope you’ve enjoyed a yuk or two down memory lane. I’ll be getting off my fat ass and posting some new stuff on Monday. Have a great weekend!
“Holidays: I’m Not Convinced”
Originally Posted: Sept 8, 2010 (Wednesday)
So, what were we talking about? Oh right. This week is filled with holidays for me. From Labor day to Rosh Hashanah, (the Jewish New Year).
Yesterday we were talking about how the infertile among us dread holidays and despise family functions. And my theory (my Masters thesis) is that most people, those with normally functioning reproductive systems included, also hate going to these wingdings. And this is why: Continue reading
So, what were we talking about? Oh right. Preparing for the long weekend ahead and the mandatory Memorial Day barbecue: The unofficial start of summer for grill gluttons and beer guzzling alcoholics everywhere. (Start with Monday’s post if you can.)
The perfect place to celebrate Memorial Day weekend for me would be at a monastery where the monks take a vow of silence: The ideal barbecue: Plenty of food and no talking.
And even if there was talking, nobody would be talking about their kids, and there’d be none running around (perhaps there’d be some running around at an apartment complex a half-mile down the road with a connecting underground tunnel to the monastery, but nobody would likely bring that up at the cook-out.)
But since most of us don’t have many monks attending our block parties, we have to work with what we got.
Sometimes as infertiles, you hold your breath as a big wingding approaches. “Will people ask us personal questions? Will we have to explain why we have no kids yet?”
No need to worry this time. For this weekend’s barbecue, don’t be concerned about the baby-making details. And don’t bother buying a cattle car full of beef, pork, or chicken either. Look around the neighborhood. Plenty to grill right here. Continue reading
(Start with “Monday” if you can. We’re giving Mother’s Day and the days following, the tribute they deserve: With plenty of good old fashioned anger and violence.)
(And if you’d like to see other aspects of my agressive personality, please do subscribe to this blog for weekly newsletters always guaranteed to be full of… well let’s just say… info.)
So, what were we talking about? Oh right. The depressing, Hallmark-induced, pancake house celebrating, 24 dollars a dozen half-dead roses delivered to the wrong house on the right day or the right house on the wrong day—holiday that we affectionately (and sarcastically) refer to as “Mother’s Day”.
Enough I say! Today has been declared another holiday for all of us who survived Sunday’s debacle. I proclaim today to be: “Give Yourself a Cookie Day!” Continue reading