Like A Scene From A Cartoon

Back in September, I wrote about W. and his studying, or lack thereof. I took some of your advice and backed off. Because as much as my controlling ways fought me, I know, deep down, that I must let him take control of his own school work.

If I didn't he'd never get through it.

So, reluctantly I took a backseat. I still question him to make sure his homework is done. I still ask if he has any quizzes or tests coming up that he needs to study for. But I let him be responsible for it all.

It's tough.

I started to see his grades falter. He still had passing grades for the most part, but I did see a few that were not quite up to par. I was given papers to sign and return. The teacher wanted proof that I knew of the substandard grade.

I told W. he needed to get a grip and take his work more seriously. I explained that the year would get harder, not easier. He needed to study for his tests. And better yet, he needed to KNOW when those tests were being given.

Apparently, THAT was a problem.

I became aware of THAT when I went through his papers and found a Science quiz that he never told me he had coming up.

Did you ever see the Spongebob episode entitled "No Free Rides"? Here's a clip:

Now, watch the episode again and imagine W. as Spongebob and Mrs. Puff as his Science teacher. Next replace Spongebob's boating test with W.'s quiz. And finally instead of a 6, think of a 4, as in 4%.

Yes, my son got a 4% on a quiz. How is that even possible?

Anissa

This community, sometimes called the Blogosphere, never ceases to amaze me. When a fellow blogger is in need, this Internet Family, joins together at record speed to offer support.

Quite honestly, it blows my mind.

I've only been blogging for less than two years. That's not a long time. I haven't been lucky enough to meet any bloggers in real life. Though I hope to some day. I have however, witnessed the outpouring of love that is forever being extended in so many ways.

Many read, in horror, when Nie Nie and her husband were in a life altering airplane crash during August of 2008. Then hearts were broken with the loss of a little girl named Maddie. And then again when Thalon was taken too soon.

Each time, this Internet Family, sprang into action. No questions asked.

Truly incredible.

Today, I signed onto Facebook. I saw status updates that Anissa of #FreeAnissa had suffered a massive stroke on Tuesday. I couldn't believe it.

Anissa?

The always funny, upbeat Anissa? That strong woman who has already endured rehabilition for a previous stroke. The unbelievable mom who recently posted about her youngest child, Peyton, being one year, cancer free?

Yes. That Anissa.

Again, this Internet Family is doing what it does best. It's taking care of it's own.

Please send prayers, happy thoughts, good vibes, whatever you can to Anissa and her family. And if you can help out in other ways, please visit Aiming Low to find out how.

The Older Woman

"Mom, J. and I met two girls today. They want to be our girlfriends!" W. informed me.

I smiled and asked, "Oh really? What are their names?"

"I don't know.....but they are 7th graders!!" He gushed.

Ah. Older women.

I figured he'd probably never see these girls again. And if they did cross paths in school, I was pretty sure he'd be ignored. I mean, he's ONLY in 6th grade and those girls are practically teenagers!

Heh.

A few days later, I got the dreaded phone call from the nurse's office. Ever since the media freaked America out with news of the Swine Flu, I've been waiting for the shoe to drop in the Schmitty household.

"Mrs. Schmitty, I've got W. here and he isn't feeling well...blah, blah, blah." I heard the nurse say as my mind drifted off into thoughts of vomit, fevers, and quarantine.

"I'll be right there."

The nurse's office was packed to the rafters. There were children EVERYWHERE. I motioned for W. to come along and noticed that he had a ginormous, shit-eating grin on his face. I also noticed there was a blond-haired girl, sitting in a chair, with a similar expression.

As we walked into the hallway, I said, "Who is that?"

"The girl I told you about, the one I met this weekend!"

So begins my son's wooing of this girl, whose name, unfortunately sounds exactly like that of a stripper.

He has "friended" her on Facebook; an account he has only used, thus far, to play Bejeweled Blitz. He also, and I quote, "Sees her EVERY.SINGLE.MORNING!"

"Have you spoken to her yet?" I asked, quite amused at how smitten he is with her.

"No."

"Has she spoken to you?"

"No."

"Do you just ignore each other?"

"No. we just smile at each other!"

That's it baby, take your time.

They Worked Hard For The Money

My boys and their friend decided they wanted to earn some cash last weekend. Yes, I said EARN. My children, who haven't earned an allowance in months because they can't do a couple of simple chores without being pestered, were going to do some hard labor!

I'm as shocked as you.

They grabbed some rakes and began knocking on our neighbor's doors. Mr. P., who lives across the street, was their first taker (which was very sweet as he has a lawn service).

He told the kids that he would pay them $2.00 each to rake the front lawn. They accepted and jumped right in; putting their nose to the grindstone.

After about fifteen minutes, they knocked on Mr. P.'s door.

"Can we quit now?" They asked.

Mr. P. tried not to laugh and said, "What do you mean? You still have a lot to do!"

"But there are soooooo many leaves!"

My neighbor thought for a second and looked around at his yard. "You know, there are more leaves here than I originally thought. Tell you what, I'll give you $5.00 each if you can finish up."

The thought of more money gave the boys the boost they needed to begin again.

Another thirty minutes went by and Mr. P. heard another knock at his door.

"We're done!"

Mr. P. stepped out on his walkway and noticed that the boys had only raked from his front steps forward. They had missed the side of the house to his back fence.

"What about that?" He asked.

"Your front yard is only over here," W. said as he gestured with his finger.

"Sorry guys, that's part of it too."

Knowing that he was right, the boys reluctantly picked up their rakes again. Mr. P., who was getting quite a kick out of the whole situation, once again went into his house.

At about this time, Mr. Schmitty peeked at them from our front window. He caught W. trying to rake the leaves under a bush. He shouted for him to knock it off.

At least the boy was creative.

Knock. Knock.

Mr. P. answered the door again.

"NOW, we are done!" The boys exclaimed.

"Wow! That was fast!"

"V. let us in on the secret!"

"What secret?"

"Use a leaf blower!"

Apparently, V. was feeling badly for the boys and came out to give them a hand. I told you he was a keeper!

Whooooo Are You? Who? Who?

The young boy jumped out of the tree he was climbing. He walked past the small crowd of people who were huddled under the awning. They were trying to stay dry from the rain as they smoked their cigarettes.

"Hi!" He heard the man say.

"Hi!" He answered back.

"What's your name?"

"It's W."

"Well, how are you, W.?" He smiled at the boy.

"Good."

"Who's your mom?" The man questioned.

"Um....your daughter."

Yup, that my friends, was a scene from my nephew's birthday party a few weeks ago. I did not know that my father was going to be attending.

Actually, no one did.

The invitation was extended, by my brother, after a few failed attempts to visit with my father. My father was NEVER good at keeping promises. So, really, who would have thought that he'd show up for his grandson's first birthday.

SURPRISE!

I haven't seen him in quite a few years. Probably since my daughter was born and he graced us with his presence at the hospital. He stayed his usual eight to ten minutes. And that was that.

When I heard he had called and was on his way, a knot in my stomach tightened. He came in and I saw how old he had gotten. I could see the alcohol had finally caught up with him. He's only 67 years old, but the years of self abuse were apparent.

He smiled and spoke in his loud, "Is everyone looking at me" voice. He was still as pompous as ever. I think I rolled my eyes.

My children were all around me and I whispered in each of their ears, "That is your Grandfather Jim." I hated using the word Grandfather. As far as I'm concerned, their Grandfather is, sadly, in heaven. My father-in-law, who loved them dearly, is the only man my children should call Grandpa.

For about an hour, while joined in conversations, of which we were both included, he never spoke directly to me or to my children.

I began to fume. I texted back and forth with Mr. Schmitty, who was at work. I told him that the FUCKER couldn't even acknowledge us!

Then I heard the howling laughter from my brother. He proceeded to tell me the story of my son and my father out by the tree. My father had no idea who I was. He did not recognize me. WTF?!!

My dad came inside and was laughing and trying to hug me, which I guess was his way of apologizing for his screw up. My body, as usual, reacted to his touch by cringing and pulling away. I smiled a half smile and moved on to another topic.

Such was the way of our family. Ignore the dysfunction and sweep it under the carpet.

My brother and I shared a laugh later on that night as we recounted the colossal brain fart my father had exhibited. We always could bond over funny, ridiculous dad stories. I think it was our way of coping and dealing with our shit childhoods.

This one, without a doubt, would be going down in the books.

Laughter....I guess it IS the best medicine for a very, VERY sad situation.

PG Should Stand For "PLEASE GETMEOUTTAHERE"!

My oldest son, W., has gotten hooked on reruns of the television show Malcolm In The Middle. I had never seen the show before and only knew that it was a comedy. The IMDb (Internet Movie Database) lists it's plot as: "A gifted young teen tries to survive with his dimwitted, dysfunctional family".

I really had no idea that there was a sitcom based on our family. I might as well scrap that script. Heh.

Okay, back to my story. So, W. has been using the DVR to record his new favorite show. He watches episodes every chance he gets. He asked me to sit with him a few times and I must say, I do find it pretty funny. But I'm sure you're not surprised, as I do have the sense of humor of a twelve year old boy.

The mom on the show, Lois, is my hero. The way she whips those boys into shape; I find her inspiring. And as I take notes on ways to torment my own offspring, I can see the wheels turning in their heads. They too are mentally recording new ways to torture me as they watch the Wilkerson boys wreak havoc.

It's family fun for all!

Now, this show is rated PG. A few TV appropriate cuss words are randomly thrown out. I think this is one of the appealing factors for my son. At his age, cuss words rule! There is also some sexual innuendo at times. Nothing too risqué, mostly parental kissing and such. Most of it just disgusts my boys, which in turn, adds to my amusement.

Last night we were watching an episode which involved Malcom's nasty, evil grandmother. The family was rushing grandma out the door, on the way to the airport, after an apparently LONG visit. She slipped on a leaf and fell. The old bitty then hired a lawyer so she could sue her own daughter. In the same day, Lois finds out she is pregnant again and screams, "WE CAN'T EVEN AFFORD THE ONES WE HAVE!!"

Lois approaches her mother, convinced her mom will do the right thing, and drop the lawsuit. She tells her she is having another child and that they can barely get by as it is. The grandmother agrees that this new development changes everything.

"You should settle!" She exclaims.

"WHAT?!!" Lois cries.

"It's not my fault you can't keep your legs closed!" She shoots back.

"What does that mean?" W. inquired.

My eyes got big. I was sure that would have gone completely over his head. I looked to Mr. Schmitty. The expression on his face told me that he'd be absolutely no help.

I opened my mouth to say, well, I have no idea what. I kind of just stammered.

"Mom, tell me! What does settle mean?"

I practically fell off my chair laughing!!!