Mary Bernard

I love the school hook-up line in theory and mostly in reality.

I am a very patient person, so I don’t mind sitting. I crave quiet, so I love a quiet car. I can always find something to do, so I love the few minutes I have when I can listen to the radio, flip through a magazine, or make a phone call.

But when the hook-up line goes wrong… well, it gets ugly.

Now, I’m quite the rule-follower. I really want to maintain the integrity of hook-up line etiquette. But, people, if you don’t TELL me, then I can’t follow your rules. Right? Right.

So, as a result of poor communication (and poor timing?) at my daughter’s school, I have violated several hook-up line rules. Getting out of my car too soon. Getting out of my car too late. Holding up the line.

I have been yelled at by the hook-up line monitors. I have been the object of other drivers’ wrath, even though I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong. I have received the ugly glares, the waving hands, the shaking heads.

Now, I have also witnessed others’ doing whatever THEY want, also violating the so-called “rules” and procedures. Are they ignorant as I or just getting away with hook-up line indiscretions?

I’d lobby for hook-up line reform if I knew where to start. I suppose I’ll continue to suffer the consequences of hook-up line ignorance sprinkled with an honest mistake every now and then. I’ll just vent here, pondering how something so simple could go so wrong.

My 5-year-old daughter has an active social life—much more so than her parents.

Today she was invited to two birthday parties. I RSVP’d to party #1, which was totally doable. Party #2, however, conflicted with plans Chris and I had already made for a night out with friends to watch the Titans game and have dinner. So I declined party #2 and didn’t say a word about it to Susanna.

All was well until talk of the party #2 happened at school. After Susanna’s begging to go and our re-consideration, we decided with some creative juggling, we could probably make it work.

Thus begins my proclamation that when one goes to a birthday party… there’s just so much more to it than that.

First–the RSVP. I had to call Eden’s mother back and say that yes, we were coming after all. I’m thinking to myself that we need to notify her in as much time as possible so that she can prepare for an extra child (knowing that I’d want the same courtesy).

Next–the gift. I actually had a gift purchased for some other party months ago that we had to bail on at the last minute. But, I can’t find the gift. I can only think of two places to look before my window of time closes. So, now, we have to get a gift.

We decide on a large–I mean, LARGE–floor coloring book and a Barbie. This is a great gift, but now we need a large gift bag for it. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to know that the gift bags at Toys ‘R Us are more expensive than the gift itself. And they don’t have the little card attached. And we’re not going home to get a card. I just can’t do it. I can’t pay like $8 for a gift bag and card, both of which I know will eventually be thrown in the trash.

OK–s0 we get the gift but have to go to the Dollar Tree to get the bag and possibly a card (if the little card is not attached).

(An aside here: I think the greeting card industry is the biggest rip-off on the face of the planet. It absolutely pains me to purchase for several dollars what I know will eventually end up in the trash. Maybe it’s because I’m a writer and don’t have any problem expressing myself on paper. But I never buy kids birthday cards because I think they are the most enormous waste of money. Your kid gets a gift from my kid, and your kid will be getting a little slip of paper with my kid’s name on it. )

Yay! The Dollar Tree has GINORMOUS gift bags with the little card attached. Oh, yea, and the tissue paper. Yes. The Dollar Tree has tissue paper, too.

Finally–directions. This particular party is being held just one street over… or so I think. So, I turn onto the street, scanning the house numbers. The road dead ends at a fence. But beyond the fence, I see more houses. Oh, yea… now I remember. For some ABSOLUTELY IDIOTIC reason, this street is continued on the other side, but the only way down that side of the street is over the river and through the wood… no joke. Because removing the fence and connecting two ends of the same street, making a complete thoroughfare would be, I don’t know, thoughtful, convenient, and sensible.

Chris and I then made our way to our friends’ home. I am there a little over an hour until I have to leave, pick up Susanna, take her to our house where our babysitter was, then join my date night at our friends’ house already in progress.

Now you see why going to a birthday party isn’t JUST going to a birthday party.

We have a new furry family member, Zoe. She’s 8.3 pounds, a Bichon-Shih Tzu mix. We got her from a family in Shelbyville.

Chris and Zoe

We are incredibly excited to have her. She has fit in so well with our family. She’s so patient and sweet with the kids. Susanna, especially, has taken responsibility with Zoe, taking her out and putting food in her dish.

We learned that her birthday is May 30, 2007. On that day, Chris and our dear friend and pastor, David Filson, were burying our sweet Sassy in our yard. Sassy was our little Peke-a-Poo for about 9 years. She died of a congenital heart defect.

This is the only picture of Sassy that I could locate quickly. Fall 2006.

David told us that “Zoe” (the name she had been given) means “life” in Greek.

She has breathed new life into our family for sure.

I’m just wondering why it’s necessary to identify each interstate overpass with a giant name of the road on the side? Today I noticed names on the overpasses as I traveled I-440. I mean, it’s not like I can jump off the interstate and FIND that street easily. I’m not using overpass labels as my primary means of navigation.

Seems to me a giant waste of time and money.

This afternoon around two, Susanna started wailing, crying, screaming, “Maaaahhhhm!!! My ear hurts! I can’t hear. I CAN’T hear!!!! Maaaahhhhm!!!”

She’s quite the drama queen, so I let this go on for awhile and really tried to figure out if she was sick or just bored. (I think she probably frequents the school nurse’s office several times a week with some “ache” or “pain.”) After an hour of this screaming/crying/wailing, I decided to take her in for a look at her ear.

(To all mothers everywhere: don’t you just wish you had one of those light/ear thingeys and knew what you were looking for so that you yourself could just see if your kid has an ear infection? And don’t you wish that amoxycillin was over-the-counter and you could just go get it? And don’t you just wish you didn’t have to pay $25 and wait 2 hours just to find out what you already knew?)

So, with the pediatrician’s office closed (both because it is Wednesday and a holiday), we head over to The Little Clinic at Kroger. Let me just say that every single person who lives in the 37221 zip code decided to come grocery shopping on New Year’s Eve at 3 p.m. Anyway, we get there and I try to make sense of this convulted sign-in sheet.

Left corner is time slots by 15-minute increments: 3:00, 3:15, and so on. I thought I was to find the time that I arrived and sign by that time, then record my actual check-in time.

I DID NOT REALIZE THAT IN REALITY I WAS SIGNING UP FOR AN APPOINTMENT.

We actually arrived at 3:15. So, Debbie was before us and had signed in at 3:30. Lester had signed in at 4:00. 3:45 was empty, but I didn’t see Lester. So, I just signed in under Lester, which was 4:15.

Aargh. So, Debbie finally gets in around 3:35. Lester wanders up, and by the time he’s called in, I finally start to figure out this crazy system. Yes, Lester gets in next around 4:00. We are finally called in around 4:30 and get to leave at almost 5:15.

Now, if most of the appointments take 30 minutes or so, why, oh, why, are the slots at 15-minute increments anyway? But I digress…

Yep. That’s right: 2 hours of sitting at the Kroger check-out aisle with a screaming, wailing, “Maaahhhm! My ear hurts!” child. Thankfully, I was able to distract her for a little while with tic-tac-toe and guessing words and drawing pictures.

Really, the most interesting aspect of this adventure (besides my now burning desire to help Nurse LaTonya of The Little Clinic REWORK THE SIGN-IN SHEET!) is all the people I saw checking out at Kroger on New Year’s Eve.

In no particular order:
*2 of Susanna’s classmates
*a worker at Susanna’s school
*a worker at the Y
*a lady I know from Melaleuca
*one guy who was in my ballroom dance class freshman year at MTSU (that would have been 1989). I remember him because he was so weird and would wear the oddest boots to class.
*another guy I did student teaching with at Freedom Middle fall of 1998
*a former sorority sister
*a friend’s husband and two daughters
*our neighbors: dad and daughter
*one silver sequin top on big-haired lady

Now that’s a fun way to ring in the new year!

Happy 2009.

As usual, my Christmas card/letter has been completed after the holiday this year. I did scale back on my snail mail list this year. For all my online friends, please enjoy here!

Love and blessings to you all.

+++++

Catching up on photos of events this fall …

Halloween outfits: knights and princess. The kids loved trick-or-treating. The amount of candy they received was positively OBSCENE.

Visiting with Great-Grandmother (Mimi’s mother). Seth, Mimi, Spencer, Great-Grandmother, Susanna.

Breakfast with Santa. This annual event is sponsored by POTATO (parents of twins club). I love it. It’s so much fun, and the kids are always thrilled to see Santa.

From the moment we got to the breakfast, the boys were yelling at Santa, “Hi, Santa!”

Please people, please. Before you leave your house to shop or do anything in public, actually, would you refrain from wearing spicy, heavy perfume and cologne? I can smell you the minute you step out your front door. And the fragrance lingers in my nose minutes after we part ways.

I just can’t take it. Really. You make me sneeze. Save the perfume for your sweetie in the bedroom, but leave it off if you’re headed to Michael’s or the Dollar Tree.

Pregnant, nauseous women; migraine sufferers; and I thank you.

Achoo.

I just have to say that my children are positively crazy right now. Their excitement over Christmas has them running in circles, telling incessant knock-knock jokes, misbehaving in restaurants, and singing “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” as well as “Dreidel, Dreidel” (ironic, I know) about 50 thousand times a day.

Today was Susanna’s last day (half day) of school and the boys’ Christmas program. It was just out of the ordinary enough to send them over the cliff of normalcy.

Can I make it ’til Thursday?

Yesterday, I did a little bit of Christmas shopping in actual stores while the kids were at school. Nashville’s weather yesterday was sunny and bright, upper 50’s, but windy and a bit chilly. Definitely long sleeve shirt and pants weather. And I’m hot all the time.

Coming out of one store, I noticed a woman walking back to her car. She was wearing a long sleeve shirt, a sweater, and shorts.

OK–now, that’s not terribly unusual. I’ve paired shorts with long sleeve shirts before.

But the most astonishing part was her choice of legwear to go with her mixed ensemble.

Black nylon knee-high socks with athletic shoes.

So, I’m wondering if her thought process as she was getting dressed went something like this:

Hmmmm. Let’s see. It’s sunny today. I think I’ll wear my shorts. But it’s windy and not 60 degrees so my arms may get chilly. Yes … a long sleeve shirt with a sweater will be nice. OK. What shoes? A cute flat? No. A sandal? No, my toes would get cold. I know! I’ll wear my running shoes. A nice, hefty athletic shoe will be perfect for my day of shopping. What socks? Cute little white ankle socks? Too predictable. I know! I’ll just pull out my black knee-high trouser socks that are only supposed to be worn under long winter pants. Yes! Now that’s the picture of fashion!