SDA education, the pros and cons–part 1

Well, we’re a month into the school year and I’m having my first misgivings about The Goose attending an SDA school.

Background: my husband was “raised” SDA but does not actively practice (thank God–pun intended 😉 ). About half of his family does not only actively practice, they are very active members of both the church and the school (things like helping run the PTA, teaching Sabbath school, etc.). I do not practice SDA, I will never practice SDA, and am, in fact, not really a fan of any organized religion. To set the record straight, however, I DO BELIEVE IN GOD.

You’re getting ready to ask me why I’m sending my kid to an SDA school, and there’s 1 main reason: public education in America sucks! But I digress. That’s actually a different post.

Back to The Goose. He came home Friday from school, bubbling with questions and eager to tell me about his day. The conversation went something like this:

Goose: “Mommy, why if you don’t have food or something to drink you’ll die?”

Mommy: “Because you’re body needs food and drink. That’s what makes our bodies work.”

Goose: “Because that’s how God made us?”

Mommy: “Yep, that’s how God made us.” [I don’t discourage Christian teachings to an extent–remember, I do believe in God]

Goose: “But why would he make us die without food or something to drink” [the kid’s too smart for his own good]

Mommy: “Honey, why are you asking me about this? You’re not going to die. We have plenty of food and water.” [me, trying to change the subject]

Goose: “In chapel today, they showed us pictures on the TV, while a man on the stage with a microphone told us stories. One of the pictures was a little boy, and the man said he was dying because he didn’t have enough to eat and drink.”

Mommy: “Really. Are you sure that’s what the man said?” [Ok, what the hell are they trying to teach my son?]

Goose: “Uh-huh. He also showed us a picture of a person with no arms and he said Satan had cut them off.”

Mommy: “Interesting. Honey, Satan didn’t cut off anyone’s arms. I’m sure it was just a story. Why don’t you go in and start a movie…” […while I call the school and see what the f*** is up…]

After more discussion with his cousin who was in chapel as well, she did confirm the baby/dying pic, but couldn’t confirm, nor deny the Satan-cutting-off-limbs story. I guess I’ll be calling the teacher tomorrow. I don’t care what religion you are, it is never acceptable to show these types of pictures to children. Hell, it’s not always acceptable to show these pictures to adults.

To be continued…

The song should’ve been “I Don’t Like Saturdays”

What do the The Boomtown Rats know, anyway? While I suppose there are those who look forward to Saturday with as much glee as they look forward to Monday with dread, I’m the opposite. Saturdays, you see, mean that everyone is home. By everyone I mean 2 kids, 1 husband, 1 dog, 1 cat, 2 birds, 2 turtles, and a fish.

Don’t get me wrong. I always have high hopes for Saturday. It just never turns out quite like I had planned. Instead of being able to calmly drink my coffee and enjoy some sunshine and outdoor solitude, I end up with a screaming toddler who hates the word “No!” and a bored 5-year old who won’t stop bugging me about his damn GameCube (I swear I’m going to burn that thing!) Add to that a husband who has worked hard all week and wants to sit around all weekend watching sports and playing online poker (meaning either the house magically cleans itself up, or I do it), and Saturdays are a real treat for me.

Right now, I’m enjoying my 60 minutes of peace, quiet, and coffee since Meshegne took the boys to Sabbath school. No, I don’t go to Sabbath school with them. We’ll talk about that later. 🙂 I should be looking for his keys, the loss of which this morning caused much frustration and irritation. First I’m going to finish my blog duties, then I’ll go straighten up and see if I can find them. I have a 4:00 massage with a friend today (Happy Birthday to me! Thanks Meshegne!).

Maybe this Saturday can be salvaged…

(For those of you who don’t get The Boomtown Rats reference, they were a bad in the 80’s. The leader, Bob Geldof, was the organizer of the original Live Aid. One of their biggest hits was a song called “I Don’t Like Mondays“. For those of you who do know the song, don’t worry. I’m not ready for a shooting spree.)

Vodka, tequila, and beer, oh my

vodka, tequila, beer, cocktails, mixed drinks, etc.

Did I say I was going to take advantage of Mother’s last few days here? After just 1 night, I may have to hang up my drinking shoes. Sad, sad, sad.

Meshegne decided on Saturday that he wanted to go out. I jumped up and said “OK!” seeing as how he really never wants to go out anymore. He even took me to my favorite pub AND threw darts with me. That’s where the trouble began. Just to give you a little background, Meshegne is a true dart master. Back home, we both played in dart leagues. He played in the league that was one step away from GOD-like. I played in the league that was one step away from the gutter–oh wait, that’s bowling. You get the point. I didn’t suck, but I wasn’t nearly as good as Meshegne. I digress. We played darts. I played God-like. He did not. Much celebratory drinking ensued.

Helpful hint: don’t mix vodka cocktails for staying in, with celebratory shots of tequila when you’re out. Topped with bottles of beer. Never a good combination–especially at my age.

Needless to say, my “mother-of-the-year” nomination is close to being rescinded, seeing as how I spent most of Sunday curled up in a ball on the couch, yelling “Turn that damn thing down!” and “Where’s your father??!!”

I managed to watch about 2 minute of football, think about the laundry, wolf down a burger and a soda, and nap for 6 hours. I guess I’d better pull out the Geritol and Depends, seeing as how my birthday is pending and it appears I need to trade in my ID for an AARP card.

11 days and counting

11 days and counting until Mother goes home. Since she’s packed, unpacked, and repacked her three suitcases, her mood has greatly improved–she hasn’t been bitchy at all. In fact, she’s been uncharacteristically helpful. Doing dishes, taking the boys, helping with the new pooch–it’s positively eerie. I guess the prospect of leaving and heading home has changed her outlook.

This is a good thing. Of course I’m conflicted about her leaving, but having her here just hasn’t worked out. Of course, the little diner down the street just posted a “Help Wanted” sign. Where was that sign 3 weeks ago? (sigh)

The goose will probably miss her the most. We’ve told him that she’s going home and even though he says he understands, how can a 5-year old really grasp the concept of work/money/happiness? To him, happiness is watching “Transformers” for the upteenth time while putting himself into a sugar coma by drinking his body weight in Capri Sun. I want him to remain this way for a while longer–ignorance is truly bliss.

So I have 11 days to take advantage. Meshegne and I are heading out this evening, leaving Mother with the bear (the goose is going with daddy). I can cook up a few more outings for mommy and daddy while she’s here. 🙂

Invasion of the soul snatcher, part 2

It’s been one week. And mother and I have already started the bickering, eye rolling, complaining, bitching and fighting that makes up the bulk of our relationship. Saturday had us moving her crap in the rain. Of course it rained…why wouldn’t it? Then the storage unit she swore would only cost a penny ended up being $52. I guess it evened out, however, since the U-haul was only $27. Since Saturday we’ve barely managed to be civil to each other. Things have been said, feelings have been hurt, rows have ensued.

Only two more weeks to manage, however. L’il bro stepped up and booked her a flight back home on the 16th. She lasted one year here. Maybe she’s right…maybe things will be better for her back home, even if she is 1500 miles away from us.

I hope the next two weeks go better than the previous week…