annieology

It’s going on a month now since he’s slept beside me.  Seems that our lovely marshmallow of a bed, that I love so much, is too Mama bear soft for him. It hurts his back, while I have never slept better.  He’s been sleeping on the floor since before Christmas.

You know what this means?

Twin beds.

Might as well buy some plastic slipcovers for the davenports while we are at it.  (although, THAT may be a brilliant idea)  One of our couches smells like vomit.  I don’t know why.  I have examined all couches for anything remotely vomitous, and nothing.  I would toss it, but we kind of need couches, and I’ve placed a moratorium on purchasing furniture until we (cross your fingers) move.   I do not want to move any third hand furniture, and thanks to recent developments with the bed, looks like the only thing bigger than a breadbox that will be making the move is the ginormous tv.  And grandma’s kitchen table.

Have I told you that story?

My grandmother had the absolute coolest kitchen table, integrated table leaves.  Freakin brilliant whomever came up with that little gem.  A working mom, no doubt.  Anyway, when she stopped hosting the 30 for Sunday dinner, dinners.  She asked if I wanted it. Because I was deemed most likely to have 47 children. Damn straight I wanted it.  We lived 600 miles apart at the time, and eventually a co-worker of my father was coming through.  My father works in the oil fields as do his friends, and they just threw the table on with their oil field stuff.  We lived in a teeny tiny neighborhood that could not accomodate such big vehicles, so Tech Support met the oil field guys at a truck stop.

This is still 100 years ago, before integrated table leaves were everywhere, and everybody who came to dinner “oohed and aaahed” over it.  One guest even asked where we got such a neato table.  To which my son replied.

“Dad got it from some guy at the gas station.”

Perception is everything.

Speaking of the children….

and I know a jury of my peers would understand this one.

They are trying to annoy me with dumbness.

Yesterday, everytime I would say anything one of them would say, “What’s a cheeseburger?”

OK fine, haha.

This morning?

Do you want a hot dog for lunch?

“What’s a hot dog?”

I swear, somedays.

We are almost exactly half way through the school year.  I still have to go over the routine every morning.

Felpsy cannot get dressed until after he eats, breakfast gets everywhere on him.  So, were he to dress before breakfast, he would have to change after breakfast anyway.

You cannot have a chocolate bar for breakfast.

You cannot watch tv before school.

I don’t care if you don’t want to go to school, you have to go to school, I don’t even have the option of homeschooling you, and I really don’t have time to go to court to explain why I couldn’t get you there on time, although at least I would get to talk to a family court judge so….whatever, hang out in your undies until 10 every morning.

Still we have no progress in our case.  I would explain but just find any old post that goes over what hasn’t happened in the past five years and read that.

Again, I think a jury of my peers would agree with me there….fortunately I don’t have many peers who have been stuck in foster care with the same kids for five years.

The housekeeper will be here in an hour, I have to clean.

This entry was posted on Monday, January 11th, 2010 at 9:40 am and is filed under annieology. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.