Modern Interpretation

Mr. Z just asked me to tell him the story of 'the little girl who sits on a stool eating her cottage cheese'.

At first I thought that I had failed in teaching my kids Nursery Rhymes but as it turns out a 'tuffet' is a short stool...and curds and whey actually is cottage cheese.

So - I give you an updated telling of 'Little Miss Muffet' (authored by Mr. Z)

A little girl sat on a stool eating some cottage cheese.
Then a spider came and scared her.

Less lyrical but more concise and less confusing.

I am not sure why this topic is worthy of a timeless poem know by most all children.

Except for mine.

Confusion

Miss A: Mom - where do we keep the whiskey?
Me: Well......assuming we had any whiskey why would you want to know?
Miss A: Because I really need it!
Me: I am pretty sure that you are confused about something.
Miss A: No - I just need the whiskey!
Me: What are you talking about?
Miss A: I am talking about that thing you use to mix stuff - I am making muffins!
Me: Do you mean a WHISK?
Miss A: Yes! A whisk! Where do we keep the whisk?

Side Note: Miss A has a thing for whiskey - it is to her credit that in place of the term 'skiwampus' we use the term 'whiskeywampus'.

Second Side Note: Due to our inherent and consistent confusion is probably a good thing that we don't drink.

The Daily Grind

Alarm clock rings.

Fists start beating the bed.

"I can't take it anymore! Every day I have to do the same thing over and over again! I am sick of this! Sick, sick, sick of this! I need a break from all of this!"

Yeah - first grade can be pretty rough.

But it is Friday and Mr. Z can have a break tomorrow.

In the mean time - I think a stiff glass of chocolate milk with his breakfast will help him make through the day.

Note to Self:

When wrapping gifts for a child's birthday be sure to purchase gift wrap so you don't have to use last years Christmas supplies.

Also, get some scotch tape so you won't have to rip of small pieces of packing tape to affix the wrap.

And - keep track of your scissors so you don't have to use dull kitchen shears.

That is all.

Apparently I need to keep my neurosis to myself

When Miss A started kindergarten (2003) she was a incredibly shy. I was ultra worried about her ability to mesh with the other kids and because she did not know anyone in her class I really wanted her to make some cute little friends. Every day after school I would quiz her on who she played with at recess and every day she would give the the exact same answer in her cute scratchy little voice:

"I played with just myself"

My most sweet and beautiful little baby was playing all by herself! I was broken-hearted and haunted by memories of middle school when I felt left out.

One day after school (after two weeks of asking her who she played with at recess and grilling her on social strategies) she burst into tears when I began my line of questioning.

I ached for her - poor little thing - brought to tears by her solitary play at recess...

I told her that it was okay because everyone feels lonely sometimes...

Which is when she said: "It's not lonely at school. Lonely is when you are ALL ALONE. There are lots of kids at recess all the time."

So why was she crying?

Apparently because she was so worried about making ME sad when I vicariously stressed out over the kindergarten social scene.

Lesson learned - and before long Miss A had a cute little friend who lived up the street (and we were 20-somethings living in California at the time so by 'street' I mean row of town houses).

Now that Miss A is 12 she is actually experiencing the real social drama of being in middle school. And guess what?

I am still powerless to do anything.

And all that post-traumatic-middle school-drama is back in full swing.

All I can do is be there for her and give some oh-so-helpful social strategies which are met by theatrical eye-rolls and expressive sighs.

Let me just impart this bit of wisdom that my years of experience and knowledge have helped me to understand:

1. girls are mean
2. boys are dumb

Man, I miss kindergarten!

Apparently I will not have violent mood swings after school starts

This morning I was awakened by the sound of raucous fighting in the kitchen.

What was so important that Mr. N and Mr. Z were near blows?

Cereal Dust.

You know - The dusty remains in the bottom of the box? These powdered fragments of breakfast food are apparently a valuable commodity in this household - one for which both of my boys are willing to draw blood.

I was mildly annoyed (read: trying not to draw blood myself at being wakened over such a trivial thing) until Mr. N magically changed my mood by saying:

"Mom - my ear hurts. Can I have an asspill"?

I have never gone from anger to hilarity in a split second before but I was on the floor laughing with tears running out of my eyes while I choked out:

"You mean an asPIRIN"?

Yeah - that was what he meant.

And I will have a special name for aspirin for the rest of time.

Just like we have a special name for chapstick.

Because Mr. N used to call that.....asskick.

Note to Self:

You must label similarly sized/colored leftovers because if you are not observant in the morning your blueberry/peach smoothie will be a black bean/peach smoothie. And it will be disgusting.