Enquiring Minds Want to Know...Apparently?

Ha, ha. My frivolous musings about my hair apparently were of some interest. At the risk of embarrassing her, one of my friends called me Tuesday and Wednesday before finally reaching me today just to know how my hair had turned out! I had been waiting to mention it until I could take some photos and I didn't want to do that, first, before the 48-hour sanction on washing it had been lifted and, second, until my psychotic hair recovered from its shellshock. I don't think it's quite there yet, but I decided to take a couple anyways to share with you.

Well, let me say that it wasn't a horrible experience--I am not running around with a paper sack over my head or racing to another beautician to have the damage repaired. However, it wasn't a success, per se. I really wanted to like my hair because the girl that did my hair was so, so sweet. She talked about her family, I talked about mine. When my hair was processing, she sat down across from me to chat. I knew this wasn't to be a lasting relationship though, because she said that she wanted to go somewhere like Kansas City when she graduates. There was another girl that was supposed to be further along in her education than my stylist, who was trying to help, but she was annoying and flaky. My stylist was much more professional. However, I don't think that she used enough solution on me. When I came in, I told her what I was looking for, a loose curl that I could straighten when I wanted to. She decided on orange rods, but her instructor vetoed that. She said to use the smaller purple rods because my hair is so long, it will be heavy and weigh it down. That all sounds good, but my hair is very fine, so there isn't enough weight on it at all. I think we would have been better with the other rods (another friend, upon seeing my hair, immediately proclaimed that the rods were too small). Then her instructor told her she would probably have to use two bottles of solution on me and to make sure that she thoroughly saturated each strand. I have always needed two bottles and my hair is even longer now than it ever was back when I was getting perms. Except I only saw her use one bottle. And my hair didn't feel near as drippy as it usually does when I get a perm. I am usually itchy and tickly because of the solution running all over my scalp. She had me hold a towel over my face, so I didn't see all of what she did, but I remember noticing a lack of cold wet sensation in the lock of hair over my left eye. Granted my hair has definitely changed in the last ten+ years since I last had a perm, but my hair always took to perms REALLY well. You can tell from the pictures, even if I was acting a little silly (forgive me) that I have flat spots. It looks like I have had a perm that is now old and relaxed and I am in need of another one. Not happy with it, but I can live with it. I figure in about three months, I'll try another one. A friend of mine recommended her stylist, so we'll see if we can't do any better. Live and learn, huh?


The girls are okay at school. Kimmy comes home nearly every day with some woe: someone accidentally knocked a chair over on her or she had a sore throat all day, etc. Arrena's only complaint is the playground equipment. I think they split the age groups that are on the playground at the same time. Kimmy goes to lunch at a different time and she plays on the good equipment while she is there. Arrena isn't allowed to. Chris plans to take her to play at the playground Saturday just to make her happy.

I emailed Kimmy's teacher, as you know, about her being left in the bathroom during the fire drill. She apologized and said she would reassure Kimmy. She assured me that there is a crisis team and the custodians who check bathrooms and every other room to make sure all students get out of the building in case of an emergency. I thought she tried to place part of the blame with Kimmy when she remarked that she tries to get the kids to use the bathroom at certain times of the day and that that wasn't one of those times. I told her that Kimmy just came from a school where there were bathrooms in the classrooms and the children were urged to go any time they needed to without having to ask for permission and that Kimmy often has tummyaches and goes to the bathroom pretty frequently. She said Kimmy HAD been complaining about her stomach hurting and was glad to get that information. She said that she would allow Kimmy to go whenever she wanted to.

Tonight there was a first grade parents' meeting. Kind of silly--to tell us about the homework folders. I've never needed extensive explanation about those so far! Up to now, explanations were either in the form of a note or given when we met the teacher at a conference before school started. Anyways, there were so many rude, unruly children there--most of those parents have no control! I would have lost it if my child were to act like that, in the library, no less! When we first walked in, Kimmy's teacher made a bee-line to me and said that she had noticed Kimmy wearing an Awanas shirt and that she had talked about going to church. She said she was a Christian and wanted to ask where we went to church. I told her and she said she had grown up in a similar denomination and that she did some sort of ministry with missions (my memory is SO bad). I told her that Kimmy's grandparents were leaving in a few weeks to be missionaries to the First Nations people in Canada, so we are very sensitive to missions. She was pleased. I was impressed that she was so open about it, saying all of this in full hearing of other parents. Some teachers tend to shy away from public proclamations of that sort for fear of being caught up in some separation of church and state scandal. I remember the conversation I had with the girls' old gym teacher about that subject. Kimmy's teacher last year was a Christian and regularly prayed for the students, so Kimmy gets to continue with that trend this year. Hopefully they will both grow to like their school.

Back to School!

Well, the girls started their new school last Thursday. Initially, I worried about the lower test scores I saw on the state of Kansas report card website. But, Chris talked to one of his friends whose son either went there or is still going there and he said they were great with his son, who has a learning disability. I was also impressed at enrollment when they handed me a piece of paper to fill out that said at the top, "Here's my child--Handle with care." It had places to check off different character traits and their academic strengths and weaknesses. Then there were blanks to fill in additional information about your child that you would like the teacher to know. That was nice because there were a lot of things I wanted the teachers to be aware of. However, when I met their teachers, I got the impression that they maybe hadn't read these forms yet because they didn't seem to be previously aware of my concerns. Anyways, they had porch visits Tuesday where some of the staff went around and met with the kids and brought them an invitation to the open house and some gum and a pencil. I thought that was a neat idea. Then they had an open house/ice cream social on Wednesday. We were able to meet the teachers then and see their rooms. I felt so sorry for my girls because this school is at least double the size of their old one. Their old school had 14 classes--this one has 26 classes. There are over 600 students. I walked them all around the school several times so they could become familiar with it. I got a really good impression of Arrena's teacher. Kimmy's teacher seemed nice, but I didn't get as strong a vibe from her. Arrena says it's okay, but she is distressed over the playground situation. There are two sets of equipment--one looks really nice, the other pretty plain. She says the younger kids play on the plain equipment and the big kids play on the good stuff. I asked her if it was a rule for them to separate and she said that no one told her it was, that was just the way it worked. She wanted to go to the good equipment, but no one her age would go over there. Kimmy, who loves school, came home Thursday and Friday saying she didn't like the school and it was the worst day of school ever. I have to concur with her proclamation of Friday--I am a little ticked about that fiasco myself. At their old school, at least the younger grades (not sure about the older grades) had bathrooms in their classrooms--at that age, they have to go frequently and urgently. Well, not at this school. They have to go down the hall to use the bathroom. Kimmy had gone to the bathroom and when she came back, her class was gone. Imagine my little bitty 6-year old Kimmy standing in this huge school with no idea where to go or what to do. She said she found another teacher and asked if she knew where her class went. She said she looked all over the school and finally found them outside having a fire drill! I said, "What did your teacher say?" Kimmy said, "She said, 'Oh, Kimmy, I'm so sorry I forgot about you!'" This really bothers me. What if there had been a real fire? I understand that this is only the second day of school and she may not be familiar with all the students yet, but if you are having a fire drill, number one, shouldn't ALL the children be instructed on what to do? Number two, don't you have a class list or a head count to make sure they all get out? Don't you notice that you have one vacant desk? One missing hall pass? It's not very reassuring that you can forget a student during a controlled drill--what happens during the chaos of a real emergency? If I trust my daughter to you for seven hours a day, I need to know that she will be safe and looked after. Maybe I am overreacting, but I'd rather overreact than underreact and have something happen to my child. I told this to Kimmy's friend's mom and she said that would upset her too and she'd be contacting the teacher. I emailed the teacher over the weekend to let her know that this concerns me. I'm really not sure in what way she can respond to reassure me. And Kimmy and I talked about what she should do in case there was a real fire or a tornado while she is in the bathroom or elsewhere in the building by herself. Apparently I have to trust her to take care of herself! This does not inspire confidence! I mean, I can't imagine that the teacher can go running around the school looking for stray children with her class in tow during a fire drill or a real fire, but the children should be instructed as to what to do if there is a fire/tornado/etc. drill when they are away from their classroom. And after this, I briefly spoke to an old friend whose kids went to this school for a time. She said it was a good school, but something happened last year to make her take them out and put them in the school system that we just came out of. I didn't get to talk to her further to find out what the concern was, but I gave her my phone number so hopefully I can speak to her further and see if it was just a personal thing or if there is something I should be aware of. Hopefully this week will be better, but so far they are plotting to get back to their old school next year.

Telephonic Invasion and Chick Fights

I have never been much for talking on the phone. I think I inherited that quality from my dad, who never liked to talk on the phone either. Don't get me wrong, I will talk if someone else calls me and be perfectly happy about it, but I am terrible about calling other people. I could blame it on the children and say that I am too busy and there isn't much quiet time to talk on the phone, but I don't think I called that much when I was a teenager either. I talked a lot as a teen, but usually when someone else called me, as I remember it. When I called someone else, I somehow took it personally if they couldn't talk, almost like a rejection. Well, maybe not so much that as I felt embarrassed that I had bothered them. So, from then on, I was afraid to call for fear I would be intruding. I think it's also because I get excited to talk to someone and then if they aren't there or can't talk, I feel a let-down. I don't even like making business related calls. It makes me uncomfortable. I think the reason for that is that I get tongue-tied. I know what I want to say, but once I am put on the spot, I freeze and can't think of the words I had rehearsed. Yes...I sometimes rehearse what I am going to say...don't laugh. I often hang up, only to recall something that I had meant to remark or query, but had forgotten. I am one of the few people that would prefer speaking to a machine, pressing numbers to make choices, or do as much as I can online and with email!

I wish I wasn't this way. I think it makes people upset with me for not calling them and as a result, I wonder if I have lost friends or failed to make friends.

So, for that reason, I don't talk on the phone much. Mostly just to Chris, who calls me several times a day. I talk to my mother maybe once a week (she and my brother like to text me as a rule). Other than that, maybe a few random calls here and there, but nothing regularly and nothing much to speak of. My phone is pretty quiet. The most common ringtone I hear, by far, is the one I assigned to Chris. Sounds sad, but I have resigned myself to it. When I delivered newspapers, I would have nightly chats via a hands-free attachment to my cell phone with a friend who also delivered papers. It was easy to carry on a conversation doing something as menial as flinging papers, there were no children to interrupt, and it kept us both awake. But, after she quit (and me too, not long after), my phone usage went back to sporadic. It makes for cheap cell phone bills! My husband, however, is the exact opposite. He will keep calling people until he finds someone available to talk when he's in a loquacious mood. He spends most of his day with his phone pressed to his ear. When we were first married and I arrived in Germany, where he was stationed, he warned me to use the phone sparingly. They charge per click--which I think was every 6 seconds, if I remember right--even for local calls. Turned out, he was the one to worry about. Most of the calls on the phone bill were his.

All that background aside, I was pleasantly surprised to receive several phone calls in the last couple of days. I had forgotten that I had that ringtone on my phone! Ha, ha. We are hosting a send-off party for Chris' foster parents, who will be moving to Canada later this year to begin their missionary work. We had sent out invitations, with an RSVP plea so we can ascertain whether to expect a few people or hundreds. I had three calls about their party. Then my friend from the newspaper, whom I mentioned in the previous paragraph and had not talked to for some time, called. We spoke for over 45 minutes. We likely would have chatted longer, had my doorbell not interrupted and caused me to have to excuse myself. Then today, Kimmy's friend's father (who is also their gym teacher) returned a call that I had made to his wife regarding Kimmy's upcoming birthday party. That was an interesting call because, while I have met him a couple of times, I was not aware of the fact that he and I had attended the same middle school and high school. So we chatted a bit. The girls were VERY interested in seeing his picture in my yearbook and Arrena has been carrying it around, looking dumbfounded, ever since. I think it's fun when I run across someone I knew long ago or at least crossed paths with. It's amusing to see their picture and know where they came from. I always feel that when people meet me now, they are missing much of the picture, by not knowing who I have been, if that makes any sense.

Anyways, five different callers may not be a big deal for some, but for me it was big-time busy because I usually don't receive that many calls in five MONTHS! And that is in addition to the calls I made for Kimmy birthday and speaking with Arrena's friend's mom about an upcoming sleepover. I feel all talked out now! At least when I was on the phone with my friend, I multi-tasked, doing dishes and cleaning the kitchen, dining room, and my bedroom while I was on the phone. Should have done that during the other calls as well... (Ugh!)

This afternoon, I took the kids to the splash park. For those of you who DON'T know what that is, it's a park with lots of "sprinkler" or fountain-type protrusions that spray the kids with water. My kids love it. There was a bench nearby that had some personal belongings on one end, so I sat on the other end and played solitaire on my phone and watched the kids. Pretty soon, two teenage girls, one teenage boy, and a little girl came back to the bench and I assumed the belongings were theirs. They had been sitting there next to me for a little while and I had paid them no mind until I felt a jolt of the bench. It startled me and I looked up and the two teenage girls had leapt to their feet and had each other in a headlock in front of me. At first, I was dumbfounded as to what was going on. It was just a struggling mass of bodies and I was trying to determine if someone was being assaulted or robbed and if I should step in to assist someone. When one raised her head, I finally figured out that it was the two girls and they were involved in a cat fight. One threw the other down hard on the concrete and I decided that it was time to deliver a brief motherly lecture. I lowered my phone and said, "Y'all need to take this somewhere else, away from all these children!" To my surprise, they acquiesced. They moved off over by the park building in the grass about 100 yards away and proceeded to pummel each other. The little girl was trying to call her mom, but couldn't reach her. Another mother nearby remarked to me, incredulous (and I suspect somewhat appalled), "They are really fighting over there." I just shrugged and said, "At least they went over there."

I used to be the type that minded my own business. I never spoke up, I kept to myself. And I still felt young enough, not to be in a position of authority over other young people. But, I am now of the mindset that it "takes a village to raise a child." In a better world, parents would teach their children to behave, but since that obviously ISN'T the case, I have no qualms anymore about teaching their children myself. Even if they happen to be standing right there. If I, or someone like me, doesn't, who will? Obviously not their parents--and we end up with a very rude and selfish generation.

For example, one day I was waiting for my girls to get out of school and Billy was playing in the sand with some of the other preschool-aged children whose parents were also waiting for older siblings. A couple of the children started to throw sand, which is all the invitation that Billy needs before his thin restraint cracks and he starts grabbing handfuls. None of the parents were making a move to intervene, so I stalked over, snatched Billy up by the arm and scolded the other children, "No throwing sand!" Then I removed Billy from the instigators.

Just a couple of weeks ago, the kids and I were at the YMCA outdoor water park. I was holding Billy and some little boy came by us, way too close, and was thrashing about and hit me hard in the mouth. He didn't mean to, but he was being careless and I was mad. So, I stopped him and said, "You need to watch what you're doing! You just hit me!" He apologized and went away.

So, if you are a parent of one of these holy terrors, don't be surprised or offended if you overhear me telling your child to excuse themselves when they push past us at the zoo or act rudely in any situation which confronts me. My children get the same lecture.

Okay, that gets me all worked up, so I'll close with a picture of Arrena's cactus garden that she made this week. Maybe it will have a calming effect.