Preschool Sucks

** I’m Lazy. Read this note:

I wrote this post for the OC Family website a few weeks ago.

I’m recycling it. Because recycling is good for the environment.

Berlyn started preschool.

Here are the pros and cons.

I’ll start with the cons, and then, well…why don’t I just skip the pros altogether, because the pros seem kinda self-explanatory, right?

Because school is good. Learning stuff is nice. Macramé+tempera paint = a good time, yadi, yadi, yadi.

  • Con #1

I have to get up early. This is shameful. Because I am a sleeper. And I’m damn good at it too. I can sleep like no one’s business. Just watch me…Wait, don’t watch me sleep, that’s weird. STOP IT, YOU’RE FREAKING ME OUT!

  • Con #2

I have to get dressed and look presentable. Because my daughter’s teacher is cute, and not only is she cute, but the whole mess of teachers at her school are super adorable and bouncy and blonde, and they make me feel self-conscious. So instead of looking all slechpy, I wake up (groan) and force myself to wear jeggings and a scarf and a sassy pair of shoes. THEN, as if waking up and getting dressed wasn’t bad enough, I actually have the energy after I drop Berlyn off, to run errands. At 8:45 in the morning!! Who runs errands at 8:45 in the morning!? Bloomingdale’s isn’t even open that early. But there I am, pounding on their door, shouting to the maintenance man that I can see him and he’d better let me in because I have a coupon!!

  • Con #3

Berlyn has been in school for 4 weeks now and has been sick 4 times already.

Um, hello? In case you didn’t know, that’s a lot of sick up in my house. Fortunately, I have the immunity of a jungle cat, but my darling baby boy does not, and I’d like him to stay perfect and booger free, thankyouverymuch.

I don’t know how many more ways I can tell my daughter not to lick other kid’s noses. Or to not eat other people’s sneezes. Or please don’t rub your eyeball on those pencils. But does she listen? Nooo. So when she gets home I have to spray her down with a decontaminate and make her eat a bowl full of oranges.

  • Con #4

Kids are little turds. Berlyn is picking up all these bad behaviors from the kids she’s now hanging out with, and there’s really nothing I can do about it. I just have to pray that what I have done to teach her about being nice and not to talk about her poop is enough. I’m not there to referee her actions 24-7. And it breaks my heart when I hear from her that someone wasn’t being nice to her. So much heart breaking, in fact, that it takes everything in me not to bust down little Sally Mae’s door and give her a piece of my mind.

So in conclusion, I don’t much care for preschool:

Waking up early is stupid, getting dressed and being productive blows, catching people’s sick germs is for losers, and other kids are turds (not yours of course, yours are sweet muffins with a cinnamon glaze).

But I think it’s something I’m going to have to get used to, because Berlyn has lots and lots of school ahead of her.

Are there scaries in there?

I have a question:

Why is Halloween so scary?

Why? I don’t get it.

But seriously, why is it shit-in-your-pants scary?

Here’s the thing, I don’t like being scared. There was a balled-up piece of black thread on the bathroom floor this morning, I thought it was a spider. I squealed and then threw 6 tampons at it until I realized it was a piece of thread.

I skip the commercials with the scary movies, well, I actually skip all commercials because commercials are for losers.

And speaking of scary movies, I hate them. I loathe scary movies. I don’t get them. Why do you want to have images of such icky things in your mind? I have enough icky things in my mind as it is, I don’t need creepy shit rolling around in there too. People possessed by demons? Pass. Psychopaths on murdering sprees? Pass. But a romantic-comedy featuring Jennifer Aniston and Matt Damon? Sure, I’d go see that.

As you can tell I’m already sensitive to scary images, so I can’t imagine how freaky Halloween must be to my kids. Especially my 3 year-old daughter, Berlyn. Hudson, I don’t have to worry about yet, but for Berlyn it’s a freaky ass world out there. I want to protect my little ones’ eyes. But how do you do that when it’s EVERYWHERE. I can’t even go to Target without seeing gory witches and scary skeletons. And I love myself a well-stocked candy isle, so you can imagine the horror I already have to endure of not being able to get a 1-pound bag of Twix for me to eat all by myself while watching Arrested Development and having no intention of sharing with the neighbor kids.

And not just Target, but the grocery store too, and there’s this party store right next to Trader Joe’s with creepy ghosts dangling from the ceiling, and Berlyn asks, ”are there scaries in there?”

Yes, Berlyn there are scaries in there, and now we should go fly a kite or look at pictures of a unicorn to offset all the blood and guts.

I feel like I can sorta keep the scaries under control by not going into certain stores, or down specific isles, but now it’s dripping all over my neighborhood too. And there’s not a whole lot I can do to keep Berlyn from looking.

I mean, yikes.

What do you guys do? Do you just ignore it? Explain to your kids that Halloween is the devil’s holiday and she just got a glimpse of what Hell looks like? Give her a donut to distract her? Seriously. What’s a mom to do?

Mama’s trip

My favorite friends all abondoned their babies, their husbands, and the crappy weather to hang out with me for a sunny weekend in Palm Springs.

We stayed at the Viceroy Hotel.

And we had our own bungalow.

We had drinks on our patio.

We bathed in the sun.

We found wacky sunglasses

Melinda found these gems that were mini-toilets with poo inside. How precious.

We bathed in the sun some more.

We pretended we were in an all girl band

We got really good at posing.

We ate

And we danced.

Oh yes. We danced.

#2. Get my jeans on

I just wanted to get these prepregnancy suckers on and buttoned.

I can’t exhale or sit down.

But it’s totally worth it to know that they fit! They actually fit. Nevermind all the fluff that smushes out the top. We’ll just pretend that that’s not really there. Shhhh.

#4. Clean out my cupboards

I  have a tendency to shove something in a cabinet and then slam it really quick so it doesn’t try to escape.

It’s kinda a bad habit because the next time I open the door, it’s like BAM! Blow drier on my foot! Or KAZOWIE! Can of soup on my baby’s head!

So I decided to clean out my pantry and under my bathroom vanity. Two places that are incredibly messy.

Here’s what under my bathroom sink looked like:

YIKES!

And here’s me half-way through my kitchen pantry:

Hudson is helping me because he doesn’t want any more canned products to donk him on the head:

He’s smart.

#5. Red Lipstick

I always though red lipstick made me look too old.

Or was it that I thought it made me look too fancy?

Or too trashy?

Well, whatever it was I  always shied away from it. But now that I’m old and fancy and a little trashy anyways, I thought, what the hell.

Even if I was just doing chores around the house.

Here’s the thing about red lipstick.

A. It makes a mess

B. You have to re-apply it all the time or else it looks lame.

and C. It makes you so much more aware of your lips. I kept pouting in front of the mirror, and then affirming myself by saying, “I am totally pulling this look off right now.”

P.S. Here are some pretty embarrassing outtakes of me taking pictures of myself with red lipstick:

Gosh, I’m a dork.

5 things

I owe you an apology. I wanted to post the last 5 things, but you see, my computer crashed today and it holds all my photos and thoughts. Plus my knee is clicking every time I walk, and my dog ate my homework.

This is all terribly unfortunate news, but you see, because I have an inappropriate crush on you, and a pack of wild wolves couldn’t keep me from you, I’m currently writing this post courtesy of the iPad. It’s tricky to type with just my pointer finger.

So I have 5 more things I’m supposed to do before my birthday. But my deadline is up.

My birthday is tomorrow.

And my computer is being a turd.

What’s a girl to do?

I guess I’ll just have to turn 25 instead.

Happy Birthday to me.

#6. Join a book club

What is a sure-fire way to make you feel like an adult?

Other than switching over to chap stick in lue of lip gloss and making sure your diet has enough fiber?

It’s joining a book club.

Sure, I had book clubs in when I was in my early 20s, except we didn’t call it book club per se. No, instead we called it Literature class, and when you didn’t read your book on time, you were forced to feel like the town idiot when you got called on to discuss.

“Beckey, how do you think D.H. Lawrence uses symbolism in his novel, “Sons and Lovers?”

“Um, well, that’s actually interesting you should ask that, Professor. I think that it’s fascinating how many times D.H. Lawrence uses symbolism, especially when, he, er…um…The part with the goat has symbolism, because the goat symbolizes death? NO! WAIT! The goat symbolizes the protagonist’s unhealthy fascination with other men’s pants. Or, wait, maybe that was something else…”

“There was no goat in “Sons and Lovers”, Beckey.”

“Yeah, but there was the essence of a goat. Which I think, was what truly made “Sons and Lovers” a great symbolic novel.”

“No.”

“Yes?”

“No. And your grade will reflect that you did not read this week’s assignment.”

Crap.

So you can imagine my reluctance for joining a book club until now.

I technically didn’t finish one of the books. I felt that trickle of ass-sweat, and had that nostalgic feeling of being the town idiot all over again right before I sat down with my friend Sarah.

But she was all, I didn’t finish it either. Let’s have pie!!

And I was all, “Hi-Five!” and then I felt normal again.

Sometimes a sister just needs a hi-five and pie, ya know?

Here are the two books we read,

One was about our faith:

and one was about our food.

And Sarah never put me on the spot about symbolism or goats, so I think the whole book club thing is going to work out for me.