School

Smokey

 
After reading Lindsey’s blog about bleeding orange I remembered that I had some pretty good pictures of the girls celebrating LG’s UT Law graduation. Here are just two of those pictures.

This is a picture of Bella with her orange and white pom pom and Abigail with Smokey. This story is about Bella and Smokey (UT’s one and only Vol mascot), but, as you can see, there is no picture of Bella WITH Smokey.

You see, Abigail tried to take Bella up to see Smokey, but Bella (my toughest daughter by far) choked halfway up the bleachers. Abigail was bewildered because she was trying to hurry to get to Smokey on time before Smokey moved on, and Bella just froze. I was watching them all the way and because of my prior experience with big stuffed animals, I knew from afar that Bella may be having issues.

My little sister Renee hated Chuck E Cheese when she was small. For all I know, she still does.

Well, anyhow, I had to run up and retrieve Bella from Abigail’s care, so that Abigail could hurry and get this photo. Before I was even able to snap the photo, I had to take a very anxious Bella back to the other side of the Colliseum to her father so he could protect her from the big bad mascot.

The rest of the evening Bella kept her very vigiliant watch on Smokey and kindly asked to go home whenever he got too close. We were trying every kind of reasoning to teach Bella that the big stuffed dog would not hurt her. The first reasoning being just that: he is just a big stuffed dog. Nothing was working. I have to admit that my best 3 year old reasoning was this: “Bella, that is just Smokey, he is related to Chuck E Cheese. You remember ChuckE from Sophia’s Birthday party, don’t you? He was so nice. You danced with him and the other kids. Well, Smokey is ChuckE’s cousin.”
This seemed to bewilder Bella more than anything. She was probably trying to figure out how a stuffed dog and a stuffed mouse could actually be related, but then again, maybe not. Now, whenever we see a big stuffed anything ranging from the ChikFilA cow to the Hardee’s Star, the girls always immediately holler, “Bella, look there’s another one of ChuckE’s cousins.

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Family Room Fairy
 
Thank you to Mrs. Webb again today for a great teaching moment. It is amazing what good teachers can teach parents. On the way home from school today, while we were riding in the car, Abigail handed me a stack of papers. She is notorious for keeping a filthy desk. (In kindergarten and first grade I would sneekily clean out her desk on the days I would volunteer)
As Abigail handed me the large wad of papers, she said, “Mrs. Webb said that the Desk Fairy may be visiting tonight, so I cleaned out my desk.” I replied, “The desk fairy?” Abigail said,”Yeah, if my desk is clean, she will leave me a piece of gum at the very back of my desk.”
I immediately responded with such a wise mom thing to say, “Well, you guys will have to clean your play room today and see if the FamilyRoomFairy comes to visit tonight.” It worked like a charm. Check out my family room! Yeah, Thanks to Lindsey’s Mr Gobbles, LG did just gather up two garbage bags full yesterday and put them out of sight, but, still, the girls were moving a whole lot faster tonight and they had purpose in their cleaning…they want a visit from that fairy!
So, the FamilyRoomFairy is leaving some Holly Hobby Bubble Bath tonight: courtesy of my Birthday Box. Now, if I can just keep the room’s mess to a minimal, maybe they won’t get overwhelmed and will move on it every time I make a mention of the FamilyRoomFairy. And if we keep those two garbage bags full of toys out of the Family Room, it’s gotta only help, right?
I have a feeling though that the family room fairy won’t last for too long. I was just talking with my mom today about how I am so frustrated as to not being able to keep any real working systems at my house…she reassured me that the good parent is the one that realizes that the “system” no longer has the initial fun and motivation and adopts something new. I hope she is right because I can’t even begin to count how many strategies I have used to motivate my kids to clean up this place! Tonight my money is on the FamilyRoomFairy. Let’s put good old Mrs. Webb to the test!
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LeGrand Voyage
 
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This is a sign for some event that was being held on campus a few days before LG’s Law School Graduation. I thought it showed the appropriate mood at our house right now. We are all on a LeGrand Voyage as we await LG’s bar results. The countdown has been on for aproximately 3 months, but every second that goes by makes “passing” seem so much more important.

LeGrand said it correctly the other night, “Alice, it doesn’t matter if I was to stay up and pray all night, my future is decided by my maker.” I guess I better hand over my future also. AGH – It just seems so out of my control!!!

Well, whether or not LG has an official “future” in the law 2 days from now doesn’t change the fact that we have these three beautiful girls. They make every step of the voyage worth it. And, I guess LG is the bonus for me…a bonus that will be even better if he’s happy.

Knoxville Symphony

Abigail’s class went to the Knoxville Symphony today. It was so fun! My favorite piece of music was definitely Bernstein’s West Side Story. Why is it that I wait for my children’s opportunities to force me to bring culture into my life? I had a blast today. Now, if I can just get to the Symphony without 800 school children there at the same time. hint hint

On a side note, I have discovered a great new aspect of the blog. (thanks lori – she gave me the idea with her etsy find) Blogging is a great way to leave subtle hints for stuff that I want from my husband. Someday I am going to post a picture of a 2 karat diamond!

Anyhow, Abigail really seemd to enjoy herself today. Because she has been at the “No Child Left Behind” school, she has never been on a field trip before. She is in 3rd grade…about time, don’t you think? She was totally intrigued by this thing called “the bus” and loved the symphony. She asked all kinds of questions; the only one of which I had an answer for was, “Mom, what is the name for the guys with the big drums?” I actually could sound smart when I said, “Percussionists”. Can’t spell the word, but lucky for me, she won’t know the difference.

The experience wore her out, as you can see from the yawn. It wore me out too, but no one had a camera to take a picture of me yawning throughout the experience. I now know why I refused to let my kids be carted to and from school on a school bus. It was crazy and the nauseousness was nostalgic as I thought back to my school days.

LG’s Graduation

I have recently been sent two e-mails from friends about thier new blogs. So, how coincidental…here I am….aproximatley a year later, making another entry! he he

Here is a pic, taken at the UT Law School back in May. Yes, LG finally made it. He has the JD and the MBA diplomas in his possession.

Now, we are waiting on the liscence. We should get the bar results on Oct 19th. ThiS could be really good or really bad. I am crossing my fingers for good. I have some faith.

I am not in a funny mood, just wanted to update with a pic.

Pomp and Circumstance


Valley Jr. High Posted by Hello

7th and 8th grade are not fun for most people, for a girl like me, they were excrutiating. I was the fat girl and pretty much an outcast. I took control of my weight before heading to high school and finally elleviated my outcast status (having a “popular” older brother and sister was a definite bonus for a geek like me).

Needless to say, I was ecstatic when 8th grade graduation rolled around. Valley Junior High School to me signified only PAIN. During Junior High I had experienced one rejection after another. So, the end of the story is quite fitting.

Graduation was the end, but it almost didn’t happen. I was horrified. I wanted nothing more than to be done with Junior High. For me, there wasn’t any graduation pomp and circumstance. In fact, I would have been better off if I was a no-show. It wasn’t that my grades weren’t good, or that, like all of the rest of the kids, I hadn’t earned the right to move to the 9th grade. My graduation was just one HUGE oversight by the school’s administration.

On the night of graduation, all of the graduating students sat in their seats on the floor of the High School’s gymnasium. The bleachers above us were surrounded with wellwishers. Because my last name was Wills, I was on the back row. One row at a time, the students would line up to the side of the stage and wait for their name to be called. When they were called, they would climb up the stairs to the makeshift stage and retreive their diploma. The school’s new vice principal was doing the honors. It was just my luck that she was my former 6th grade teacher; you remember the Poltergeist incidence.

It was finally my row’s turn, the nerves were high and my self-esteem low. All of the “popular” kids got the biggest cheers on their trek across the stage. And the rest of us, would have one more opportunity to prove to the world that we were worthless. I knew that the only cheers I would get would be from my family. Thank goodness I had a lot of brothers and sisters and a mom who could cheer really loud.

I stood up and walked with the rest of the herd to the side of the stage. Everyone watched us as we awaited our turn. I was so self-conscience, I knew everyone was watching me, waiting for a prime opporunity to “moo” or “boo” at me. I prayed that the kids would be kind; I didn’t want to embarass my family.

The way the system worked was like this. There was a volunteer standing down by the lined-up students. This volunteer had the list of names, as well as the person at the top of the stairs. And, of course, the vice-principal at the pulpit. When I got to my place in line, the volunteer double checked her list for my name. Alice Elaine Wills was not on the list. The vice-principal, oblivious to the mix-up, kept calling out names. All of the students that were behind me, would kindly walk around me. I kept being pushed and pushed to the back of my line. The volunteer next to me had a look of horror on her face and she kept trying to get the attention of the administration.

The administration on the stage finally realized what was happening. They consulted one another to figure out what name they should call so that this poor outcast girl could come up and fetch NOTHING (they had not prepared anything for me). You would think that because the vice-principal had been my teacher the whole year of 6th grade, she would be able to remember my name. But, I had either gained too much weight or she wanted to prolong my torture to get back at me for Poltergeist.

They all looked at each other in confusion. The volunteer asked me for my name and she started mouthing it to the people up on the stage. Of course this approach didn’t work. I stood, trying not to cry, because now all eyes were on me for sure! The volunteer went up and told the lady at the top of the stairs, who then told the vice-principal, who looked very surprised (she must have realized that she should have known my name). She called out Alice Wills. I walked up with my head down as low as possible, and tried to smile as the principal handed me some piece of notebook paper instead of my diploma.

I would never again have to step foot back at Valley Junior High. I didn’t care if the administration hadn’t given me a real diploma. Not receiving a diploma was nothing compared to the embarassment they caused me while I waited in that line. The people who hadn’t witnessed my line incident were brought up to speed with my nothingness when there was a huge lull right after Lisa Zarate and before Alice Wills. Even though I was a W, I brought up the rear. (so appropriate considering the size of my rear) As I walked back to take my seat, I passed all of my fellow Junior High Students. I felt nothing but RELIEF. Pomp and Circumstance night had officially mortified me just enough to call my junior high experience finished….what an appropriate finale.

Tippery
The Hungry Leprachaun Posted by Hello

Abigail is obsessed with things from Ireland. Her Kindergarten teacher has turned her into a leprachaun lover by telling her story after story about her trip to Ireland. Last year, all that Abigail wanted from Santa was a leprachacun. Poor Santa had to shop on e-bay to find one, only for LG to say that Abigail was going to be disappointed that it wasn’t a real living leprachaun. (Santa isn’t that good) The obsession is so strong that I was teasing Abigail’s teacher today that I would come and hunt her down if Abigail ever decides to convert to Catholicism, just so that she can be more like the Irish.

About a month back, when the kids and I were at the school library on Terrific Thursday, I pulled a book from the shelf that I knew Abigail would love, The Hungry Leprachaun. (It is out of print so there is no need to link to it) Abigail humored her father a few days later by repeating the story word for word.

Well, this week is National Reading Week. On Wednesday the children at Abigail’s school were allowed to wear a costume that depicted their favorite storybook character. I tried to convince Abigail to dress up with something we had in the dress up box. Laura Ingalls, Professor McGonagall, even Pippi Longstocking would not do the trick. She only wanted to be Tippery, the hungry leprachaun.

On Tuesday night, we made a trip to Wal-Mart to buy the leprachaun hat. Abigail thought that Tippery wore green pants and a purple shirt. I figured that we could dig up a purple shirt somewhere.

On the way home, there was some confusion as to what Tippery did wear exactly. I, being the overzealous perfectionist that I am decided to stop in at the school. I ran up the library hoping that Mrs. McGee could help. The library was locked.

I then became desperate and did the unmentionable, I made sure no one was looking and I snuck into Abigail’s classroom to take a look at the book. To my relief, I made it in and back out to the car with no one catching me.

The rest of the evening I was stuck coming up with The Hungry Leprachaun costume. I tell you, mothers do a little of everything. On Tuesday night, you would have thought that I was the seamstress. I found some leftover material and elastic and sewed the elf looking hat. I dug through drawers for the purple pants, purple socks and green shirt and spent the rest of the night nicking and tucking.

As I dropped Abigail off at school the next morning, she looked just like a leprachaun. When the Safety Kid told me that she looked cute, Abigail turned her head back at me with a satisfied look. I can’t quite place what it looked like but it was a mix between her dad’s goofy smirk and a leprachaun’s smile.

Indeed, I am a good mom. Even if she converts to Catholicism I will still love her just the same.

Alice


An adult female louse Posted by Hello

I hated my name while growing up. I was always the only ALICE, among many Alissons and Ali’s. I was called Allison more often than I was Alice. I had serious conversations with my parents about legally changing my name, but I never did.

I have now grown to love my name. My campaign theme, “Alice in Lancerland”, won me the title of Sophomore Class President. Alice is a good classic name and I guess my parents were wise in their choosing. Even if I was the only child who bore the name of a Sr. Citizen, it is o.k. now. I grew into my name somewhere between 25 and 30.

As you can see from my previous post, Cialis, my name tends to get me into trouble.

One of the most memborable examples was the 4th grade. My sister and I made some new friends down the street and were reluctantly allowed to spend the night. We took home with us some new teeny friends….headlice.

Well, when I was in elementary school, about every 6 months, the school nurse would come into the classroom and perform a mass screening. You know, the nurse would come in with her gloves on, holding her stash of long Q-tips, and each of us would get a chance to sit in her special chair and have her pick through our hair like a chimpanzee.

To my complete humiliation, I was called out 30 minutes after the screening was through. EVERYONE knew exactly why. I was the kid with the headlice. When I got up to the school office, I was totally relieved to see my sister got sent out too.

Well, my sister had fine slick hair, and getting rid of her lice was easy. When we went back to the office the next morning for our readmittance test, she passed with flying colors. I, on the other hand, with my course, thick, long hair, was sent home again. This happened the next day also. Finally after 15 bottles of RID, and a really short hair cut, I was allowed to come back to school.

You may wonder how this has anything to do with my name…..well, here is the sob story. Really, it is going to break your heart. Oh, by the way, the Harvard School of Medicine calls these mass screenings totally unacceptable. (I suspect one of their doctors had as much of a traumatizing experience as me. – although, I don’t know who could top mine)

Man, my head is itching right now, just thinking about it. So, you would think that I was redeemed when I went back to school, right. NO WAY! The kids were terrified of me. They wanted nothing to do with me and my head cooties. For the rest of the school year, whenever I was privileged enough to be addressed….I was affectionately known as “A – lice”. How quaint.

Oh, and if you don’t think that stereotyping happens in the classroom. You are dead wrong. My teacher, Mrs. Steadleman treated me like the TRASHIEST kid. Even though I was very bright, my report cards always reflected the detest that she had for me. The only thing I could figure is that she was terrified by headlice, just like the rest of the kids in my class.

Goodbye


Good news….you have the advantage over the telemarketer Posted by Hello

One of the joys of having a husband in law school is screening all of his calls from loan consolidation firms. Because he is rarely home, they are unlikely to ever get a hold of LG here, but it doesn’t stop them from trying.

After a semester of an average of three calls a day, I got fed up. These people just were not getting the clue. They would ask me,”When is the better time to get a hold of him?” I would tell them, “Never, he is NEVER home.” I always suggested that they give me their number and that I would have him call them back. They would always end up hanging up on me and calling ME back again a little later. UGh! They had the resiliance of a dandelion.

So, I came up with an ingenious plan. Whenever a telemarketer would call and ask for LeGrand Gold, I would say, “This is him.” Now, I do have a low voice, but it isn’t THAT low. They would always say, “Excuse me.” I would say with the upmost confidence, “This is LeGrand.” Then, the telemarketer would stumble into their spiel. I would then gladly cut them off, tell them that I wasn’t interested, and kindly instruct them to take us off their calling list.

One time this guy called and he had the nerve to say, “You have to be kidding; You are not a man.” Oh, this made me REALLY mad! How dare he say that I have a woman’s voice!? I gave him a piece of my mind for his insult and then gladly instructed him to take us off his calling list.

THIS IS PRECISELY THE ADVANTAGE THAT YOU HAVE OVER THE TELEMARKETER. They don’t know you, therefore, they cannot tell YOU what your voice should sound like! Face it, we all know a man with a mousy voice of a whimpy woman and visa versa. Just the other day, I was caught off guard when I called a new friend. I said, B*** (Her husband’s name)?” , only to find out that it was her mother-in-law (quite the smoker).

Well, I must have been successful in my strategy. We are now the proud receivers of less than one student loan call per month. They may have won the battle, but we won the war.

If you have trouble with telemarketers and you can’t come up with as elaborate of a plan as above to get rid of them, may I kindly suggest what my witty father-in-law does to get rid of them?

He cuts them off and says, “Let me ask you just one thing?” The say, “What is that?” He then inquires,”Is this a good buy?” They say,”Of course it is a good buy?” He then says, “O.k. goodbye.”