First, an update on Mr. T. We saw the guy at Children’s. Since Mr. T hasn’t had any pain or discomfort lately, he said we will wait and see. It’s likely it will continue to grow as he’s growing, so it’s very possible that his discomfort could come more frequently in the future. Or he could develop bursitis or something with the superfluous bone rubbing against the muscle the way it is. So basically, if he has increasing discomfort or it becomes so large that it interferes with his clothing, we should bring him in and they will most likely surgically remove it. Otherwise, we will go back in a year for an xray to see how it’s progressing. Did anyone else find that “becomes so large that it interferes with his clothing” a little alarming? We had a good laugh over that in the car on the way home. How big could this thing possibly get?? Anyway, for now he is fine, so that is good.
Yesterday was not so good. Actually, it all started Monday afternoon with Chuck getting some not so exciting test results back. On his birthday. (Happy birthday, Chuck!) Monday was also a mother of a PMS day for me. (Again, happy birthday, Chuck!) The highlight of the day was having Goose come home from school and tell me that her teacher did not need me to come in the next morning. So yesterday I did not bother to shower or get dressed before or after dropping the kids off at school, and instead lounged around all morning. Just as I was drifting off on the couch in front of the television, I got a call from the school nurse that Goose had a headache. “Does she need to be picked up?” I asked. The nurse replied with a bit more than a hint of that “duh” tone that yes, she did seem to be pretty uncomfortable and would need to be picked up. Why couldn’t she have just said that in the first place? I mean, if she had said your daughter threw up or something then naturally I would have assumed I should come get her right away. But when you say something like your daughter has a headache or your daughter fell off the monkey bars or your daugher got smacked in the face with a volleyball, I’m going to need a little bit more information about your expectations.
So I pulled myself together as best I could in five minutes and picked her up. I got her all settled in bed and went back downstairs to try to finish the show that had nearly put me to sleep earlier. I don’t think I got to the end of it before getting a call from Mr. T’s principal. The principal. My first thoughts were he has either won some kind of major award or he is dead. It never occurred to me that he might be in trouble. Mr. T does not get in trouble. Or at least Mr. T did not get in trouble. Until yesterday.
He sent a prank email to a friend of his posing as a teacher. It was a fairly innocuous email, but apparently using the school system for prank emails and impersonating teachers is a no-no. Thankfully, his principal was cool about it. She said Mr. T came forward and owned up to it when he heard they were trying to figure out who had sent it, that he was very humble and apologetic and she felt confident that he had learned his lesson and would not repeat the mistake. She said she knew he was a great kid and a stellar student, but mistakes need to have consequences so he would be suspended from the school computers for three days and would need to write letters of apology to his friend and the teacher he pretended to be. So not a huge deal, but still.
I am tempted to go on a small tirade here about how I received very little help in trying to impress upon Mr. T the seriousness of compromising his reputation and losing trust with his teacher and school administrators, but I’m tired of being the one who seems to make a big deal out of everything. Yes, it was a relatively small thing. And yes, we all make mistakes. And yes, in the grand scheme of things and the world we live in today, this is nothing to get the panties bunching. But still. Whatever. Moving on.
As some of you may have heard from Madhousewife, we are going to California this weekend to celebrate my Dad’s 65th birthday. I am traveling with my sister who lives here in town, and my brother, who is flying out from Maryland, is going to fly back with us and stay a few days before returning home. Yesterday afternoon I received my helpful little trip reminder email from the airline, and realized that I had booked the wrong flight. My sister, brother and I were all supposed to be returning late next Tuesday night. This is important, not only for the convenience of whoever is dropping us off or picking us up, but also because Chuck has to take time off Monday and Tuesday to take care of the kids and he really needs to get back to work on Wednesday because he only has so many vacation days in a year and we’ve already planned to use most of those with family trips this summer and his mom is coming to visit over the kids’ spring break and these not-so-exciting test results he got back Monday will probably require using up some additional time (hopefully he has enough sick days for that) so he really doesn’t need to be taking an extra day off work for his bonehead wife who somehow managed to schedule her return flight for Wednesday night. Same exact time, same exact flight number, but on Wednesday instead of Tuesday. How did I do that? And what’s up with having the same flight numbers for flights that are on different days? (Yes, I understand that’s SOP for airlines, but they really need to consider the poor, over-scheduled, distracted, brain-addled mother and housewife when making these kinds of decisions.) Luckily, I was able to reschedule the return flight for only $33 extra. But it was a pretty stressful 30 minutes there until I got it straightened out.
Oh, and to top it all off, when Chuck got home from his meetings last night, I very thoughtfully reminded him that there was still some cheesecake left from his birthday. I had waited until he came home to have some, but before I had a chance to get my piece one of the kids commented that Dad had finished off the cheesecake. He claimed he thought I meant that I had already had my piece and the last piece was for him, but it was a quarter of a cheesecake! It was the birthday cake incident all over again. Never mind that it was his birthday cheesecake. Never mind that!
Now that I’ve laid it all out for you, I feel a little silly about making such a big deal about so many relatively minor bumps in my day. But yesterday it did not feel silly at all. Yesterday, I felt picked on by the world and I kind of wanted to cry a little. Just think of all the stress and drama I could have avoided if only I’d started my day with a nice glass of orange juice.