Oh yeah, Happy New Year already. I’ve been slack, right ?
I’m not one for resolutions, probably because I’m only motivated for about the first five minutes after the date changes or more likely because I think I am perfect just the way I am and feel no need to change. In either case I’ll not hand out empty promises to blog more or plan on loosing X pounds. Who cares. I surely don’t, and chances are you don’t either.
Anyway, a quick update. August ended fairly well. Monkey the First was quite happy to head back to school, and Pooplette was quite happy to go along with him. This led to disaster right after, as apparently our idea of going to school didn’t quite gel with the school’s idea of accepting her. This was a fairly savage battle on all fronts. Pooplette was born eleven days after their stupid arbitrary cut-off date, and while the school has a low enough number of students that they were happy to have her, they were only happy to have her for half a day. We found this out the Saturday before school started, so our plans of having our afternoons somewhat freer came a screeching halt. And on top of that, the girl, who had spent the previous year watching her brother go off to school morning and afternoon, found it a bit difficult to accept. She’d watch her brother and classmates return to school after lunch, then come home with me to scream the afternoon away, throwing tantrums the likes of which we’d never seen (she even broke the door to their bedroom from throwing herself against it). When we tried to speak with the powers that be, we were told that we should just be happy they were taking her at all. Not the thing to say, people, not at all. So, after stomping our feet and screaming (me), and crying (me again) we got them to accept her all day long—our thinking being that she’s advanced for her age in any case and for fuck’s sake ELEVEN DAYS right?. Since then she’s been tested, and on an intellectual level she’s significantly ahead of the pack. However, the School Shrink (who Marc and I both seem to like, even if he’s … well, he’s a shrink, right?) thinks she’ll be better off waiting another year because she’s not as mature as she could be. Meaning? Well, she’s a loner, doesn’t feel comfortable with her classmates, prefers to hang out with the adults, or, when possible, her brother and his friends. I won’t go into what I really think of this assessment, because it will just get me all worked up again, but we’ve decided to be patient, and next year, should we get the same reaction from her because she doesn’t feel she’s where she belongs, we’ll kick and scream and yell some more. In the meantime….
The third child is growing, and no, we still don’t know how. She still eats next to nothing, and I have honestly given up trying. If she eats, she eats, if not, well, she’s not going to let herself starve, right? She’s doing well, and is having a blast at the crèche, where we leave her four days a week now.
Wait, four days? YES! Because I’m not around that much anymore! And it’s lovely. I’ve been drug back to work. In October, the sexy neighbors the people who have the house next to the Shit Heap On The Hill came to see me, to ask me to please call the principal at the college their son attends because the English teacher is out, had been out for three weeks at that point, and they were desperate. So I called. And was asked to come in immediately for an interview—immediately being the time it took me to drive over. And I got hired, because, YES, they are that hard up for English teachers here. So in the middle of November I became a middle school English teacher. And a week or two later, they added on a couple of high school classes, and I’m regretting that decision already, because one of them is as horrible as a class can get without weapons.
This little job thing has had several knock-off effects, of course. Not the least of these is that Mr. ManThing is finally getting a dose of what it means to be a parent. I’ll admit that the first couple of weeks were rather difficult, between me figuring out the ropes, and Marc’s constant grumbling (because, damn, if class starts at 1 o’clock, why should I leave here 45 minutes ahead of that if I’ve only got a ten minute drive, right?). But things have settled down, and I have to say I’m rather proud of the way he’s handled everything. Oh, he still grumbles, but I think he’s finally realized it’s not all fun stuff staying around the kids all day.
And we made it through Christmas fairly unscathed. We’re starting to come together with the whole Santa gift thing, and it’s good. And I didn’t have to answer the question ‘Why didn’t Santa bring you anything, mama?’ this year, either. Now all I have to do is figure out a way of getting us out of the afternoon at the in-laws and Christmas can be really good.
Anyway, that’s the news from here. Ciao!