No, no ... you don't understand. My husband does not use profanity like I do. He's a good Irish Catholic Newfie boy. He says "shit" now and then ... but fuck? Nuh-uh. I did the bi-weekly grocery shopping last night on my way home from work. I friggen detest the grocery store like the plague, but it has to be done - and apparently I have to do it. Hubs had agreed to take the girls to their school's Spring Fling. Aw ... pity, I was going to miss all the fun! (Suddenly spending two hours of my time and most of my pay cheque in the grocery store didn't seem quite so bad.) Anyhoo ... when I got home, they were back and I noticed immediately that something was wrong with my husband. You need to know something about this man ... he has two moods: His usual patient, work-a-day self ... and horny. That's pretty much it. I have enough moods for all of us, so it really works quite well. But last night, he was pissed. Like, really pissed. I asked him seve...
Well ... nobody ever told me being a mother was going to be easy. In fact, most everyone I knew was adamant regarding the rigors of parenthood. I scoffed (quietly, of course). I figured bigger idiots than me have been raising kids for centuries ... I could handle it. P'UH! Yeah ... you heard me ... I said "P'UH!". I may or may not have been overheard saying things like "ACK!" ... "GULP!" ... "UGH!" ... and worst of all ... "Do you want me to give you something to cry about?!". Nope, nobody said it would be easy ... but did I listen? Nope. *forehead palm* .... stupid-stupid-stupid-stupid. We are muddling through Stretch's 'issues' at school. Really, it isn't so terribly bad. The school psychologist meets with her once a week for a few weeks and then we'll have another conference with her the first week of December. In the meantime, we are encouraging Stretch to be involved in various things. She has done i...
When last we chatted (and by chatted, I mean I spewed and you dutifully listened) we were in crisis once again, regarding Stretch and her social skills. As an update to that story, I thought I would let ya'll know what I did and what the result was at the end of the day. I emailed the principal of the school and relayed the scene that had occurred the night before for her. I emphasized the fact that we have asked for feed back several times throughout the past three years where Stretch was concerned. I also made a point of mentioning the fact that the birthday party invites were scarce for her, as well. I was very diplomatic, but also passionate about the situation. It was late in the day when I sent the email and honestly, I wasn't sure she'd even read it prior to Monday - but within the hour, the principal of the school called me at work. She was horrified to hear that "hate" had been used at a school function and that she wished Hubs had come and f...
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