A Season for Everything

Matt called last night. Could I please come get him when I finished working today (I had a half day, remember)? Graduation was tonight. He wanted to see a few friends get their diplomas. Oh, and can I have him home in time to work tomorrow at 4:00 p.m.?

Sigh. It was Tim who answered the phone and Tim who told him “yes.” It was somewhere in the neighborhood of 95 degrees today with very high humidity. It was beyond sweltering on the bus. The last thing I felt like doing was jumping into the car and making the 3 hour round trip to bring Matt home. I did it anyway. That’s what moms do.

So, is he at graduation? Nope. He went, but it stormed and the ceremony was moved inside. Each graduate only gets 2 tickets for family members in that case. And all that rain? It killed his cell phone. He took it to the mall and found out he has to pay a $50 deductable and call the manufacturer to get it replaced.

Taking Matt back tomorrow is promising not to be a simple thing either. The refrigerator started acting up again on Monday….you know, the one that spontaneously fixed itself a few weeks back and the repair guy said he couldn’t fix what wasn’t broke? Well, the repairman is coming back tomorrow. Sometime between 7 a.m. and noon. Replacing the compressor is supposed to take 2 hours. I had to ask my mom to be “on call.” If the repairman comes too late she will take Matt back.

Otherwise, I made it through the last day. YAHOO! I got cards from the kids and even a gorgeous bouquet of roses from a sweet little girl. As for the thorn in my side (the infamous and notorious “D”), his only comment came when he was getting off the bus at school this morning….”I only have to see you one more time.”

Right back at ya, kid. Right back at ya.

Yeah, I know, a couple of months ago (maybe not even that long) I was complaining about the cold but there’s gotta be a happy medium between freezing your caboose off and melting it off. It isn’t even noon and it’s 92 degrees already. I could live with that, but the humidity is about that, too. I’d get in the pool, but we’ve been working on it all weekend. It’s close to 10 years old and we had to get all new hoses and such and it seemed like every time we’d get home from the pool store one more little thing would decide to wear out. We’re close, but it’ll probably be another day or two before we can use it.

The weekend was good. Megan and I had a blast at Kennywood. The cookout and bonfire at our friends’ farm was wonderful….nothing to do but chill, eat toasted marshmallows, and enjoy the company. We worked on the pool yesterday and cooked out with my mom and her husband, but that was it. Too hot for anything else.

Today’s the next to last day of school. Half a day tomorrow and it’s officially summer vacation. WOOT!!

Remembering and thanking all American soldiers past, present and future (and their families) for the sacrifices they made and continue to make to maintain our freedoms and protect the world from tyranny.

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Tomorrow I am driving one of the buses for the sr. high trip to Kennywood, one of the country’s oldest traditional amusement parks, located just outside of Pittsburgh. Since it’s an all day trip I’m taking Megan along. I thought it might be a fun day, just her and me riding the rides.

Sunday, we are invited to our friends’ farm for a cookout and bonfire and Monday, Memorial Day, we are planning to hang out around home and work on the yard, pool and what not. If my mom and her husband are around we’ll probably throw some steaks on the grill. Nothing fancy, just home and family. Kind of a fitting way to celebrate what veterans have done, don’t you think?

Anyway, we’re expecting great weather, sunny and very warm (85 degrees) all weekend. I hope wherever you are it is beautiful and you have a wonderful holiday weekend. See you next week!

Dear Sir or Madame,

It is now 7:00 P.M., a mere three hours after I delivered your child safely to the bus stop. A feat accomplished inspite of the fact that Johnny, Susie and all their friends were screaming at each other, at me, and from time to time at people who weren’t even on the bus. I endured no less than 30 choruses of We Will Rock You. I signed yearbooks for everyone that asked, settled disputes, reprimanded those who felt the need to wander about the bus at will and I did it with a smile….because children are precious (or I am completely insane).

I have spent the last 2 1/2 hours scrubbing the inside of my bus. I can almost hear you thinking, “So?” Let me tell you what cleaning the inside of a bus means to the driver. It means cleaning out the cracks in the seats where Johnny and Susie have been stuffing things all year. Tonight I pulled from the dark recesses of the seats; used tissues, the garbage from every breakfast you didn’t wake Johnny or Susie up early enough to eat at home (perhaps they’d get up better in the morning if you didn’t let them stay up until all hours of the night), secret notes (many that would curl your hair if you knew the content), jewelery, toys, pens, pencils, gum (chewed, of course), candy (always sticky) and a small mountain of unidentifiable stuff. Cleaning the inside of a bus also means cleaning the windows where Johnny and Susie have felt compelled to educate us all winter long drawing explicit pictures in the steam or writing the “wonderful” new words they are learning or if Johnny and Susie are small, it just means cleaning the slobber marks where they have licked the windows all winter (don’t you teach them anything about germs?). It means scrubbing boogers off of the walls, the seats, the window frames and anywhere else Johnny and Susie can think to wipe them (I actually prefer the ones who eat their boogers). Lastly, it means going through the whole bus, seat by seat with a bottle of Goo-Gone and a paint scraper prying up all the semi-melted hard candies and wads of chewed gum your precious children have spit on the floor or stuck to the bottom of the seat or the wall. Oh, and please don’t think that because I haven’t mentioned it, that Johnny and Susie don’t do anything worse. They do.

I realize that as a parent you want your child to be protected and looked after. You don’t want them harassed or picked on. You want a driver that maintains control and transports your child without incident and when there is an incident you want it delt with swiftly and justly. Isn’t that just special? Do you mind if I ask you how you handle yourself and the situation in your own vehicle when Johnny and Susie start bickering, rough housing, whining, screaming or crying? Do you get distracted from the road? Do you see and hear everything that happens in the seat behind you? Do you honestly know who started it or who did what to whom every single time? Do you get stressed? Do you lose your temper? Do you want to quit, get out of the vehicle and never look back? Do Johnny and Susie ever verbally abuse you or threaten you with physical harm? Do you have someone jumping down your throat criticizing the way you handled the situation? Does someone come running to Johnny and Susie’s defence, because there is no way those precious angels would do something like that? Are you afraid to discipline too strictly because everyone is sue-happy these days and you don’t want to be a story on the 6:00 news? Think about how you react and handle things with only one or two kids in the family car. Now think about Johnny and Susie’s bus driver trying to react to 50 or more kids while maintaining control of a 30′, 16, 000 lb. school bus.

As the school year draws to a close, many of you will buy little gifts for Johnny and Susie to give to their bus driver as a gesture of thanks (mostly because it is the correct thing to do, not because you genuinely appreciate the job they have done). I’d like to suggest that you save the money and give a gift that would be most welcome. What is it? Character. As in helping your child achieve some level of it. Teach Johnny and Susie manners. Teach them respect for others and themselves. Teach them gratitude. Teach them to take responsibility for their own actions. Teach them obedience to authority. Yes, it will make the bus driver’s job easier, but the greater gift in the long run will be to Johnny and Susie who will grow up to be kind, responsible, well-mannered, productive adults.

Sincerely,
The Bus Driver

There are, as a parent, days when dealing with the offspring are about equal on the fun scale with, oh say, nursing a migraine at a heavy metal concert. Today is one of those days.

You’d think my darling daughter would have had a good enough weekend. Friday night was the final 8th grade dance for the year. She got a new top and skirt of the slinky, sexy, you-look-way-too-mature-for-your-own-good variety; very grown up strappy silver shoes and a press on french manicure. She looked about 20 when she put it all together, did her hair and applied make-up. Did we say anything or suggest that she tone it down in any way? No, because in the scheme of the 8th grade social scene, she was one of the milder examples. Other looks spotted at the dance ranged from prom queen in full regalia, to sex kitten, to street walker, to punkers with an up-yours attitude.

Saturday, my darling daughter took off with one of her aunts for half the day and ran off to hang out with friends as soon as she got home. She had a friend stay over last night and this morning she went with the same friend to the mall. A mere 5 hours or so later, I called her, just wondering when she might be coming home. Not for another couple of hours was the answer. Okay, but I mentioned I wanted her to come home when she got back. KABOOM! My sweet little princess went into pout mode that quickly deteriorated into tantrum mode when I didn’t give in and say she could stay out with her friend as long as she wanted. She got nasty enough that I hung up on her. She called back a little while later all sugar and spice….until she realized she was still coming home as soon as she got back. Again, I hung up on her.

Tim stepped into the picture when the madam got home. He tried talking to her about her attitude and the way she speaks to me. That earned him the most amazing round of eye rolling and pouting. Megan whined to her daddy that she didn’t do anything, that she never does anything, that it’s me. I yell at her and she gets in trouble for everything she does. Dear old dad wasn’t impressed and became less so as she continued her rant and pretty much called me a liar. By the time she had finished, Tim had grounded her and given her an assignment. She has to look up the definition of “respect” and write it 1000 times. Ouch. The grounding ends when the assignment is finished. In the meantime, no television, no music, no phone, no friends.

Since then I’ve been enjoying silent glares, not-so-silent stomping and slamming, an entire symphony of sighs and some fine high drama. Has Her Highness written anything? I have no idea, but if I know anything about her….no.

Don’t think we’re horribly strict monsters and call Children’s Services to report us. This is a rare severe punishment, which is most likely part of the problem. The other parts adding up to the sum are Meg’s A.D.D. and the fact that she is a hormonal brat just as most 13 year old girls are.

I was raised by a man who was old enough to be closer to 2 generations removed from me, rather than the usual 1 between parent and child. Dad came from a generation that believed and taught “children should be seen and not heard.” Now, I don’t buy into that at all. I remember how much I hated that rule growing up. What I do believe in whole-heartedly is that children should show their elders respect. Period. I won’t put up with my child speaking to me (or anyone else) like she is Bart Simpson and I am Homer and as of late that’s what I’ve got.

IN OTHER NEWS:

THE RAIN HAS STOPPED AND THE SUN IS SHINING!!

Elvis is limping around after having jumped out of Megan’s bed Thursday evening (the bed is a loft type thing). He refused to put any weight on his right hind leg all of Friday so I called the vet and we took him in for x-rays on Saturday. The little goof broke his toe and just like with people toes there is nothing they can do. So, once a day I give him a pain pill and he goes on like nothing happened.

I haven’t seen The Da Vinci Code yet so please don’t tell me about it. I’m going next weekend. Last night the girls and I watched Last Holiday with Queen Latifha. It moved kind of slow at first, but it was a good story….a mushy, girly story. Tim hated it.

We started working on the pool this weekend. We’ve got the pump running and the water’s no longer green. Maybe in another couple of weeks it will be warm enough to actually use it.

I am so sick of rain. It’s been gray and wet for over a week. We didn’t make any plans for this weekend because we wanted to work in the yard. Looks like that’s out.

A comment from Rachel on my last post made me decide to put up a short statement on where I stand on The Da Vinci Code.

Yes, Brown did mix a lot of fiction with a little bit of truth, which for me is what made it such a good story. I think most people get that it’s a work of fiction and I’m thinking that there might not be as many who take it as truth if Christianity wasn’t making such a big deal about it (as soon as you make the fruit forbidden, it becomes a temptation). No matter what your feelings on the book, it has gotten a lot of people thinking and there is a wealth of information out there right now. I’ve read some of it just to educate myself on all the alternative theories.

The bottom line is that, for me, The Da Vinci Code is a great action-adventure story, not a life-philosophy.

That said, here are a few Da Vinci Code links:

Did you love trying to figure out the clues in the book before Robert Langdon did? Do you love a good mystery? Then you’ll probably love the games coming out. Warren Industries offers The Da Vinci Code Board Game and Briarpatch is offering Da Vinci’s Challenge. If you’ve gotta play right now then try out Sony Picture’s on-line game, The Da Vinci Code.

Random House offers the official website for the book. You can sign up for Dan Brown’s newsletter, solve riddles, find a hidden code on the book jacket and find links to the movie site and Dan Brown’s site.

An albino monk is hot on the heels of Robert Langdon for much of The Da Vinci Code. The monk is a member of a religious sect called Opus Dei. Find out more about Opus Dei at their website.

And finally, visit the site for Carl E. Olson and Sandra Miesel’s book The Da Vinci Hoax for a debunking of the Code.

Think you know a lot about The Da Vinci Code? Take this test while you’re waiting for the movie and see if you do.

Chesney Girl gave me the letter B to play with (which was a really hard letter for me, by the way). The idea is to list 10 things that start with “B” and tell why they are important to you. I won’t tag you, but if you want to give it a try, let me know and I will pick a letter for you (sorry, you don’t get to choose your own).

Beach because the beach, any beach, is my favorite place to be. Sun, sand, seafood, cool breezes, romantic nights….what’s not to love?

Blue eyes because that’s what color my husband’s are and he has a way of looking at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world. It just melts me.

Babies. That’s how my kids started out and they are very precious to me.

Bus. It’s what I do.

Barefoot. It’s casual and that pretty much describes my life. Easy-going.

Books because I am a voracious reader. I read everything and lots of it. You can never have too many books.

Blogging because it’s fun and I’ve met a lot of great people.

Bark. The language of my puppy dogs. For me, a house just isn’t a home without them.

Ben Roethlisberger because I’m a huge Pittsburgh Steeler fan.

Backbone. As in strength of character. I don’t have a lot of patience for those who lack it.

**I tried and tried, but I couldn’t figure out a way to fit Toby Keith under B.**

How’s the weather in your neck of the woods? It’s chilly, gray and rainy here. Might as well get used to it…it’s the forecast for the whole week.

We had a good weekend. There was no school Friday (around here Prom Day is a holiday) so Megan spent the day shopping with an aunt and I went to visit a friend and ended up going for a job interview at another bus company. Megan had a friend spend the night.

Saturday we slept late, a real treat because I never do that. It isn’t that I don’t want to, I just can’t. I always wake up early. We did some shopping once we got moving and then met friends and saw the movie, RV, starring Robin Williams and Jeff Daniels. Oh my gosh! Go see it! We weren’t expecting much, but it is a good silly romp and we laughed until we cried and our sides hurt. Plus, it’s clean enough for anyone in the family. After the movie we came back to the house, ordered the world’s best pizza and played cards.

Mothers’ Day Tim and I sat in bed reading until about 10:30 then he and Megan got dressed and headed out to buy my mom the cards I forgot to pick up on Saturday. We got Mom a gorgeous rose bush called Hot Tamale. The flowers are red and yellow. Tim and the kids got me the fountain I posted the picture of last week. Mom’s husband took us all out for dinner. The only downer was that Matt had to work and couldn’t make it home. He’s planning on working Memorial Day weekend, too, so I don’t know when we’ll next see him.

This morning I had to go to a meeting after work. They went over procedures for what to do if we’re in an accident and if there is violence/weapon on the bus. It was kind of interesting. We also had to sign our intent forms (as in I intend to return to work next fall). I went ahead and signed it since it isn’t a commitment, then came home and called the company I interviewed with on Friday and told them I’d take the job, starting next fall. The pay is a good bit higher and the company cares a lot more about its employees than the one I work for now. I knew I was going, but I don’t want to tell my boss until the end of the school year for fear it would influence how my year-end bonus and driver ranking are figured.

Here’s a little day-brightener for a rainy day. It’s an oldie, but a goody.

I AM THANKFUL:

BECAUSE IT MEANS I HAVE
FRIENDS WHO ARE THINKING OF ME.