I kind of like the idea of a weekly post wherein all I do is grump (hopefully in an amusing fashion) because it clears the decks for positive, delightful me the rest of the week.
Yesterday though I posted my roast turkey recipe, apparently grossing out poor vegan Nicole, who was not prepared to see a naked turkey carcass when she clicked on my blog. (Sorry, sweetie. You know I love you. No animals were harmed in the making of this post, I promise.)
So! My weekly grouch. Please feel free to ignore, if you so choose. Most of these items fall solidly under the heading of “really minor First World problems from an entitled hag who doesn’t know how good she’s got it”.
On the last day of school before Christmas break, Harry wore his new snowpants to school for the very first time. A word about Harry and snowpants: last winter, I bought him three pairs. THREE. The snow here was never more than a couple of inches deep all winter, but that never stopped a small boy in the pursuit of Fun, Merriment, and Sledding, so the bums ripped out very quickly because in these overly safety-conscious times you are not allowed to send your kids to school with a Krazy Karpet. Also, we had a lot of ice last winter, but the school didn’t allow the kids to run and slide on their boots, instead mandating that if they wanted to play on the ice they had to be on their knees. Which also then ripped out. It was infuriating, and as the winter went on it got to be untenable, because all the snowpants are sold out and gone by Christmas, and by late January they’re stocking raingear for the springtime that frankly eastern Canada never gets. This year, we took a deep breath and dropped $120 on a snowsuit, one size too big, with very sturdy snowpants that we hoped would at least last one winter and maybe even – mystical wonders! – two winters.
So. Last day of school. Harry wears the snowpants. He comes home wearing snowpants. The next day – the first day of a two-week Christmas break, mind you – he pulls on the snowpants to go outside and says “huh, these snowpants don’t feel right. I think mine had a Velcro thing over the zipper.” I looked and lo, he had come home wearing completely not his snowpants – the ones he brought home are a size 12, not an 8, and are already looking worn around the stitching.
He spent the Christmas break wearing too-big snowpants. Some discussion identified the probable giant-kid-who-went-home-with-snowpants-four-sizes-too-small, and I tried both calling and emailing – but I couldn’t find the right number in the phonebook because I only know the kid’s mother’s name, not his father’s, and she isn’t listed. And the email address I had for them didn’t work.
He went to school yesterday with a note for his teacher explaining the situation and asking for her help. He came home still wearing the too-big snowpants. The other kid is in Newfoundland until next week. There were no snowpants in the lost-and-found. So here we are, and I am so fucking aggravated because Harry is completely irresponsible with his possessions, especially the ones that are meant to keep him warm. Mittens, hats, scarves, and now snowpants. It hurts my BRAAAAAIN.
We may yet get the snowpants back but just how on earth am I supposed to teach him to be responsible with his winter gear? If he were older and there were no Child Protective Services I honest to gods would let him go without… but he isn’t and there is so I guess I just need to take a second job or something.
Ron’s first day back to preschool is today, which is wonderful. It was also my turn to provide snack, which was not wonderful, because I didn’t realize that until late yesterday, and hey! there I was needing to come up with something healthy and edible for 18 children.
I convinced Ron that Dorothy’s Basic Muffins would do the trick, maybe with some carrot sticks and apple juice (because I had bought a dozen bottles yonks ago, when they went on sale). They are the easiest recipe ever but still, it was annoying because dammit, I had just baked the night before and bloody well didn’t want to bake again.
Louis’ parents want me to try toilet training with him again next week. Their evidence that he is ready? He wore underwear for three hours on December 23rd and didn’t have an accident in them. That’s it. He did not go to the potty in that time. So, he’s got control, which we knew. Still no evidence that he has any interest in using the toilet, though. I’m afraid this is doomed to fail.
I woke up at 3AM with a pounding sinus headache, sore throat, lethargy, stuffy nose, painful ears – the whole shooting match. GRAND. Made it all the way through the holidays when I could easily have spent a day lying on the couch eating bonbons without so much as a sniffle. Stupid germs.
I gained ten pounds in December. Or eight pounds. Or five pounds. WHY ARE BATHROOM SCALES NOT ACCURATE???
The boys bought me Lego Lord of the Rings for my Wii as a Christmas present. Which is cool, because I’m a giant geek and I wanted it. It would be a great game except for one important thing – it is the most glitch-ridden game I have ever personally played, and may be the most glitch-ridden game ever. The very first level had a progress-preventing glitch, which required me to shut it down and restart. I’ve since found three more levels with the same problems; you get part-way through a level, a certain thing has to happen in order to progress, it never happens, you need to shut it down and restart.
I’ve got friends who worked in the video game industry, and that kind of sloppy workmanship is really not justifiable; they have beta-testers who would pick up on those things, and they are coding glitches that are usually pretty easy to fix. This is clearly a case of the design company rushing to capitalize on “The Hobbit” release date, so they put out a $40 game – which is aimed at children, after all – that is riddled with the most frustrating sorts of errors.
Whew, that feels better. No more whining until next Thursday! (Or that’s my goal, anyway. Posting about Louis and the toilet training doesn’t count.)