Although we only recovered from the sickness a few weeks ago, we are sick again. And by we, I mean Bugsy and Moo and shortly after they’ve recovered- me. Sweet. The poor baby has got a nose so stuffy he takes panting gasps and nursing is very near impossible. Bugsy has the same cold, only now he’s got double ear infections. I’m so glad we had that Ear Tube Operation that lasted all of two weeks.

So that explains all the MIA stuff.

My mother in law is arriving in two days and she just informed us that rather than stay in the hotel room THAT SHE RESERVED, she’d rather stay here. With her mother. In the FULL SIZED BED. In the room that is currently housing the 97 bajillion presents and toys and crap. All unwrapped. Obvs, because that is just the icing on the cake. I have no extra towels and the sheets currently on the bed that she and her mother are planning on sleeping in? Are king sized. Awesome.

Maybe I’m all lacking in the Spirit of the Season, as my mom has taken to calling it, but I’m kind of annoyed right this minute. So, bah hum bug and all that jazz.

“You need to buy fish food,” my mom said into the phone when she called to tell me she was bringing the Older One home. Because we have no fish, this statement would be perplexing if I did not know that Grandma and the Older One had spent a marvelous day dropping ping-pong balls into fish bowls for prizes. And fun! Fish give me the heebie-jeebies. I don’t own them and I certainly don’t eat them. There is just something about that flaky texture that send electric creepies down my spine. Gag.

Meet Sonny and Crockett:

My mom dropped off the Older One, the fish, and a small, plastic, filter-less bowl with the specific instructions to acclimate the fish in their bags to the water in their bowl before ceremoniously dumping them into their new home. I spent 20 damn minutes making sure the water was the right temperature and I wouldn’t shock them before moving them. I took such care organizing the blue marbles and colorful shells the Older One had picked for their tank. What I didn’t realize, however, was that they would most definitely, without a doubt need a filter. I figured that out the next day when the water took on a murky, greenish hue and it was hard to see the fish.

I took my lazy ass on over to the local pet store to find a relatively cheap, nice looking tank with a filter with which to relocate these beasts. I’m really not crazy about fish. All night whenever I glanced in their direction, my stomach felt queasy and my spine tingled and hee-bed-a-jee-bed-a-yuck-yuck-yuck. I don’t know why I just imagine them making some grand escape and sailing through the air to land right in the garbage disposal, while at the same time my hand will involuntarily hit the On switch. EW. I’m grossing myself out just thinking about it.

I bought stones. Wait. Doesn’t that sound ridiculous? I actually paid money for something I could find out in my driveway or back yard. Anyway, I BOUGHT STONES, two bags worth actually. I picked out several different kinds of plant life and also a pretty pink flower because I am the only girl in this house and sometimes I JUST NEED PINK and also a BREAK FROM ALL THE POOP JOKES (although ha ha ha). I grabbed a treasure chest with a diver and a net and the fish food. I also thought we should definitely get a ph and nitrate tester for good measure. I think the grand total was around $75. Which is a whole lot when the fish are probably only 99 cents. For the both of them. But when it comes to my child’s happiness, NO EXPENSE IS SPARED. I spent all day setting up this blessed tank and testing the water and just generally making sure these little farkers would live.

By 4 PM, the water in their old tank was really nasty and I was pretty sure that their new tank was a whole lot more healthy of an environment, so I moved them. I didn’t get the chance to get them used to their new water because I did not have BAGS, but it felt like the right temperature. Plus, they looked like they were totally going to die if I left them in their old tank. The Older One had a tennis lesson, so we packed up and left the Him to keep an eye on the fish.

Fifteen minutes later, after I was installed courtside, watching the Older One smack yellow balls INTO the net, my phone rang. Surely, he can’t be calling to tell me the fish died. Right? I laughed to myself as I hit the answer button. “The fish died. I put them in the garbage disposal,” the Him said. Okay. I made that last part up, but they died! They kicked the can not ten minutes after they moved to their new digs and I spent $75 for absolutely nothing. I’m awesome.

Thus ensued a lengthy discussion with the Older One about death and the great, big fishbowl in the sky. He didn’t cry all that much, but he definitely wanted to know when we would be replacing Sonny and Crockett. Me? I’m over the fish and that whole little experiment. Does anyone need a snazzy, new, barely used fish bowl or should we just get him two more fish for Christmas?

Disclaimer: All three of my computers decided to malfunction today, so you’re getting a post from yesterday. One that I didn’t end up Publishing, as you’ll see why when you’ve read it. Sorry, in advance, for the suckage. It’s been One of THOSE Days for the last FEW days. All of that to say that I can’t upload my pictures onto my computers because THEY ARE ALL BROKEN, so Wardrobe Malfunction Tuesday will be brought to you tomorrow? Perhaps Thursday? Maybe Friday? I don’t know. Whenever my computer gets fixed.

The Mom Guilt Level is reaching into the Red Area today. It is bad. It is reallyreallyreally bad. I am about to relay the story of what happened today and in doing so will reveal myself as The World’s Worst Mother. The Older One has a Thanksgiving Play today, in which he had a Speaking Part and I missed it. I also totally wasn’t there for the Party afterward. I am a terrible mother and The Mom Guilt is horrible! Let me explain how this came to pass.

In October a letter came home telling us of the Older One’s Speaking Part in the Thanksgiving Play. It also told us what the line was, so that we could practice it. Every. Single. Day. On the way to school, while eating dinner, in the bath tub, the Older One has been practicing this Oh-So-Important-Line. Come to think of it, we practiced it as he got out of the car to go to school this morning.

Being the idiot that I am, I assumed the play and party was on the last day before break. That day would be TOMORROW, NOT TODAY. I also assumed that there would be a reminder note sent home beforehand, so that I could REMEMBER. I do have an iPhone and it does have calendar capabilities, but I never use it. This would be one of those times when it would be helpful to have it. I really need to reconsider my stance of not using calendars. My memory isn’t what it used to be. I had offered to bring the table cloths and napkins for his party, so this morning I headed out to retrieve these ever important party items. Before doing so, I had a surge of energy the likes of which I haven’t seen since I came down with this dreaded pneumonia.

I decided I would craft (oh that makes it sound like such a joke) some cute pilgrim hats and bonnets and turkeys to make as pencil toppers that the Older One could hand out at the party tomorrow morning. Before I left, I realized no note had come home about the timing of the play/party, so I decided to write the Room Mother and the teacher. I remember thinking, “Wouldn’t it suck if I had the date wrong and it was today? No, no that wouldn’t make sense.” Because then what are they going to do on the last day of school? Learn? Pfft.

I went out and bought everything that I was supposed to and I was totally feeling like a Super Mom. C’mon! Pencil topper Thanksgiving gifts! Aces! I rock. At about 2 PM I checked my email and learned the I was being far too generous in my assessment. This is what the email said:

Dear [Sucky Mother],
I am sorry I didn’t get your message sooner! Hopefully you got the answer before this morning’s program. There were a lot of people, so maybe I just didn’t see you. When it gets closer to Christmas, I will definitely keep you posted!!
Happy Thanksgiving, [Mean Teacher. Oops! I mean, Name Withheld.]

*Emphasis and name mine*
Ha. Ha. Excuse me? What? TODAY?!?!? Hopefully you got the answer?!?!? FROM WHO? Not you, that’s who! And, no, it wasn’t her responsibility. HOWEVER, I have taken this very issue up with the teacher before today and, no, it hasn’t changed. I never got the note! And exactly why is a FIVE YEAR OLD in charge of all the IMPORTANT NOTES to and from the teacher? You know what really pisses me off? That bitch lady made damn sure that I got all the notes she sent home every time the Older One breathed the wrong way in class.

I promise I’m not being over dramatic. She sent home a note every time he “spoke during instructional video” and “made flapping hands in line.” And I had to sign these notes and if I didn’t? She emailed me. Now, I’m not saying I don’t need to know when he misbehaves. Obviously, if he is having a disciplinary problem, I need to know. Like if he hurts another child or is bring defiant or if he says a cuss word. But he is in KINDERGARTEN. Surely he won’t listen during every video. Do I need to know about every single time because I’m sure there will be many? So the time when actual NOTES OF IMPORTANCE come home is the time the Older One has to put them in his folder and bring them home. I think that’s relying on the FIVE YEAR OLD to REMEMBER this important information a little too much. But, I digress. . .

I emailed the teacher:

Dear [Name Withheld],
As you probably know by now, I guessed we missed the Thanksgiving
performance. I’m not sure how this happened, but we never got
anything that told us the date/time. We got the Thursday Envelope,
but it had nothing in it. I had assumed it was tomorrow. I feel
heartsick over this. Am I missing any email letter or newsletter? I
just want to make sure it doesn’t happen again!

Also, what time is the party tomorrow? What time should I plan to be
there? I have the tablecloths and napkins and I definitely don’t want
to miss this one!

Thanks again!
[Idiot Mom]

At this point, I thought I’d only missed the play. I figured, at least I’d make it to the party and be able to bring gifts. Surely, that would redeem me, no? I know mistakes happen. I know I will do a truck ton of things wrong. Why can’t we all, as mothers or women, just try to have compassion and understanding for one another? Why do we have to tear each other down when we’re already at a low point. I felt so bad about missing his first, real play. I was hoping that the teacher would write me back and at least tell me he’d done great. But that would be asking to move mountains now wouldn’t it? This is what she wrote back:

Don’t bother bringing in the table cloths and napkins tomorrow. You missed the party too. Next time maybe you could check the kindergarten website.
Sincerely,
[Ms. Bitch. Whoopsie! Name Withheld]

I take exception to the tone. Also, KINDERGARTEN WEBSITE??? There is NOTHING of this website in any of the paperwork I’ve ever gotten. I know. I checked. I realize she probably deals with parents who make excuses all the time, but she’s KNOWS I’m an involved mother. I’ve volunteered at every function they’ve had all year. I bring in stuff for all of there parties all of the time. I’ve already MET WITH HER TWICE. I scheduled it to talk about a FIVE year old being responsible for the paperwork. Start small and make him take home is HOMEWORK every day. I’ve met with the Head of the Lower School and the Principal each twice. Clearly, I care. And that tone up there really irks the shizz out of me.

Whatever. The whole thing just reeks any way I look at it. I just wish I had known about the farking WEBSITE. Humph. Well, no cookies for you this Christmas, Ms. Compassion-Pfft-What’s-Compassion!?-I’m-a-Total-B

I promise promise promise I’ll be back soon with Wardrobe Malfunction Tuesday. This whole borrowing a computer thing? Really sucks.

I was avoiding posting this because it’s everywhere, but it’s so damn cute. Because I lack the time to post anything worthwhile today, here:
Live TV by Ustream

Did you know if I didn’t write something, I’d miss the NaBloPoMo thingamajig? We certainly wouldn’t want that to happen.

The baby woke up at 3 ayem last night and decided that sleep was just an annoyance and he’d much rather play! Yay. I’m so tired I could fall asleep standing up in the kitchen. I’ve had that not-enough-sleep-floaty-feeling all day. It’s really annoying and I need to go get in bed.

This lame post brought to you by the number 3.