Firmly planted in Week Two of school. I am delighted to report that all seems well with Parker and Ryan. There were enormous fears -- of the lunchroom, of all things -- on the part of the boys, and of the playground, on my part. So Ryan and I have been having a lot of snacks with Parker in the cafetorium (doesn't that sound like a devine place to be buried?), and we've been shuffling our feet on the playground along with piles of children, one of whom is our very own Parker. Parker and Ryan seem to have no trepidation regarding the hectic swarm of all-age children on the playground, the lack of fencing, the parking lot nearby with possible child-snatchers lurking in every corner. No, it's Me. And 3 other parents. So we collect our Volunteer badges and park ourselves in sections that seems under supervised, and try to actually Keep Watch v. just riveting eyes on our very own little darlings.
About the time Parker's first recess is over, it's time for Ryan to decamp to kindergarten, fully exercised and bright of eye and spirit. And I ask our energetic kindy teacher "Do you need my help today?" A foolish question. So I stay and do all those things that having 90 eager little learners entail. Much shuffling of paper, assembling of packets, setting up of display walls which all of us parents will eagerly scan, looking for signs of adorable art and literary work.
Too busy to even shop for food, in fact, since Ken is out of town and I dread shopping with the boys. They hang on to the cart, pulling it every which way, dash off in front of other carts to procure tasty tidbits (most of which is ix-nayed - never mind, they try anyway) and are general nuisances. I had to take Ryan today. We were out of too much stuff. The store was pretty empty. And wouldn't you know; not once or twice but three times, another parent with their annoying child kept blocking our way to get places. This woman was oblivious to anyone else in the store. Her daughter (who looked 4 or older) was spitting into her hands and drawing with the saliva - broad slashes with her palms! BEYOND DISGUSTING. I thought 'certainly even this clueless mother can't be aware her child is doing such an incredibly nasty thing', so I took the liberty of gently informing her "Your little one is spitting in her palm and marking territory..." with an Ikea Anna wry smile for emphasis. And do you know what that lovely woman retorted? "So What! Mind your own business!" So I said "Oh dear, I guess I better call management over to monitor the situation." And I did. And guess what? She stormed out of the store, abandoning her cart and snapping and snarling at her daughter. Oh dear. I'll probably end up on the PTO with her at some point and she'll have it in for me.
Let's see; what else...
Back to School is tonight. The Parental Units are coming over to entertain the boys as the husband he is gone. Have to shoe-horn Taekwondo in there somewhere before dinner and after school. Ai Yi Yi.