Restless in Suburbia

Tell me the truth. Is this mean? Due to an outbreak of cooties at the school, I've been obsessively checking my children's hair for nits. This is boring and time consuming. They have a lot of hair. So every so often, as I am checking, I'll let out a blood curdling scream. I can't tell you how funny it is to me to see them jump. Another fun thing I do is really quietly say, "What the....?" as I examine a strand of hair.

Recently my daughter informed me that it's mean to do the above things. Is she right? Is it mean? Or just good family entertainment?

My sister is visiting us for the holidays, and brought her beloved dog. (Very cute, sweet, smart dog. I admit it.) We have two guinea pigs who live in an open cage in their own bedroom. We all went up to see the guinea pigs, and the dog, I'll call her V, seemed overly interested. I told my sister that we'd have to make sure to close the door when we left the room. She said, "V would never hurt the pigs!"

But we did close the door and we came downstairs. A few minutes later V came trotting into the family room and guess what she had in her mouth. A STUFFED guinea pig. She had gone into K's room, and out of all the stuffed animals in there, had chosen the guinea pig and brought it down in her mouth! She had ignored the cow, the bear, the other bear, etc. for the guinea pig!

My sister had to admit that it was a little bit strange.

Meanwhile, C was showing his Uncle A his bedroom. And they had this conversation:

A: Oh, you have bunkbeds! Do you ever sleep on top?
C: Yes. When I pee on the bed on the bottom.
A: That's good. So you have two shots every night.

Labels: dog

Me (in school, talking to a 3rd grader): OK, but be careful with that poison frog.
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C: (for a school project) Love is when you like someone in a special way and maybe you kiss them.
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Conversation between C and drama teacher:
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C: In the next play I want to be Cinderella.
M: We're not doing Cinderella.
C: But I want to be Cinderella.
M: But we're not DOING Cinderella.
C: In the next play I want to be Cinderella.
M: WE'RE NOT DOING CINDERELLA. WE'RE DOING LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.
C: oh.
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Me: (in library, to student) Will you get that out of your nose? Do you have any idea where that would end up if you tripped right now?
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4th grade student in library: I'm looking for a certain book, but I don't know if you have it.
me: Do you know the title?
student: Yes. it's called "The Bible."

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And my favorite, I walked past two teacher discussing something and L drew me into the conversation:

L (a teacher): Which do you think is more important: size or weight?
me: Sorry?
L: Which do you think is more important, size or weight?
me: Well I never really thought of the weight as being important, but I suppose that makes sense too.
L: What?
me: But, really, attitude is the thing, don't you think? Don't you think that attitude can make up for a lot?
L: What are you talking about?
me: Um. What are you talking about?
(And I never found out what they were talking about because they started laughing so hard that they were crying. All I know is that they were not talking about what I was talking about.)

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About a hundred kids were playing some version of dodgeball that involved not only throwing balls at each other but running around and screaming at the top of their lungs.

I said to a teacher: "If you dropped them on a deserted island it would take them about 5 minutes to turn it into Lord of the Flies."

The teacher: You think that long?

Labels: school, school plays

Well, C was spectacular. The drama teacher had found him red rimmed glasses to go with the flower on his hat. I was taken aback for a minute by how damned beautiful he is. Dressed as a girl he was prettier than most girls. He did a great job. Lots of dramatic sighs, some wiggly hips, many flourishes. He had the audience in hysterics.

One of the actresses' grandmother was there, and she was looking at C with a look of disapproval on her face, as if playing a woman in a play in 2nd grade means that you're signed up to be a cross-dresser or gay. And of course I know that isn't true. Is the kid who plays a wolf in a play destined to become a, well, wolf?

But what really struck me about my reaction is that I realized that I did not care at all if he did end up as a cross-dresser or gay or whatever. I searched for the smallest, most hidden part of me that would care. And I realized that I don't care at all. I want C to be happy and whole and true. And I don't give a shit about the rest. When I would hear parents say "I just want him to be happy" I used to think that was bullshit. How hard is it to be happy? Is it such a difficult job to be happy? But you know, if you're living your life as someone you're not, it's damn hard, I bet.

When I was watching my beautiful (I mean, BEAUTIFUL) boy up there with his Goodwill dress and his hat and his long hair, I just wanted to grab him and tell him, "You are so absolutely perfect! And fabulous too!"

And here's the part that made me feel good inside. His dad feels the same way.

Labels: school plays

C is in 2nd grade and is part of the "little" drama club - the drama club for kids up to 3rd grade. I was excited for him to join because he was born for the stage and screen. Most of the things he says sound like they are out of a movie script.

So they are doing the play "The Shoemaker and the Elves." In which the failing shoemaker is assisted by elves who sneak in at night and do his work for him. I've always had problems with this story, because when the elves go away, what happens? They have their snazzy little outfits and shoes and they leave. Sure, the shoemaker got rich while the elves were doing the work for him, but along the way did he ever learn to do it properly? Isn't this the whole "give a man a fish" story here?

But anyway, on the first day of drama club, the teacher was assigning roles. C determined that he wanted to be the shoemaker's wife. The teacher gently encouraged him to be the shoemaker (there is only one other boy in drama club) or even an elf. But according to witnesses, C rebelled by pretending he couldn't read the lines of the shoemaker, or, alternately, reading them in a high, feminine voice. So he got the role he wanted.

The shoemaker is played by a girl. I watched one of their rehearsals and it was mindbending that kids these young can be so comfortable acting. So comfortable that they adlibbed about half the lines.

One part is supposed to go like this:

Shoemaker: I'm tired. I'll get up early and make the shoes.
Wife: Fine with me.

What they actually say is this:

Shoemaker (girl): I'm tired. I'll get up early and make the shoes.
Wife (boy): Fine with me. But don't forget to take your medicine!
Shoemaker: OK, OK! I don't even know why I married you, old woman!

Then the elves run around and act silly.

So anyway, C decided that he needed a dress for the part. His big sister, K, not only does not have any dresses, but most assuredly would not lend him one if she had. So today his dad is taking C on a father-son outing to goodwill to try to find a dress for him.

As C would say, "I'm so glad I live in these modern times."

The play is tomorrow. I will report back about the performance.

Labels: goodwill, school plays

I went to get my eyebrows waxed today for the first time in months. And it was at a nail/spa storefront place oned by a Chinese family. When I sat down and the lady looked at my eyebrows she said, "Wax! Yeah! You NEED!"
And I had no defense. I just said, "Yeah. I need."
That's going to be my new saying, like if someone says "I'm going on a diet," or "I'm getting a haircut," or "I'm going shopping for some new clothes," I'll say, "Yeah! You NEED!" No, really, I won't say it, but I will think it for sure.

Labels: waxing