I Consider It a Good Day.

Last night after making the dinner almost entirely by myself (I do not mind doing this, I am just pointing it out), I refused to make dessert.

Jeremiah's sole option was Rice Krispie Treats.

I walked him through the steps and then left him to fend for himself in the kitchen.

As I am relaxing in the living room, I hear him mutter "I am not as good at this step as I thought I would be." I look in the kitchen and he is putting the cereal/marshmallow mixture onto a cookie sheet.

How can you screw up Rice Krispie treats? How can you not be good at that? Emptying a pot onto a flat surface? And also, how exactly would you excel at it? It's a fairly simple and straight forward process. I am guessing there is not too much of a learning curve going on here. You can either tip a pot over or you can't.

I laughed at him.

Today I did not get threatened by any students. I consider it a fantastic day.

Oh, and Friends? So much has been happening at the house. Shelves are up, bookshelves are painted, rugs are cleaned...I just have not had much luck with computers/computer memory/uploading shit onto the computers. So that's why you have not seen the progress of my happy place.

Also, I have company coming! My brother will be here in a week or so and I have two very dear college friends coming in October. I think I am winning the popularity contest. It used to be everyone visited Jeremiah. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

 I am excited because one of them is bringing her two babies, so technically I have FOUR visitors at ONE time! Plus, last time I got to hold her baby and I was all, "Jeremiah, this is how I would look if we had a baby and I held it. Except that this baby is cute and ours would probably look like a baby elephant." 

Dear Perverts,

I have been noticing a ton of people Googling very naughty things about husbands and wives and urine and landing on my blog. I get it. That's what I titled my post. Except my post was about the dedication to your partner within your relationship and thinking that tinkle is funny. Not kinky stuff.

The stuff for which you are searching? You will not find here. EVER. The stuff you are looking for made me blush. I did not even go searching. I just looked at the phrases you were Googling and I was horrified.

So go on with your life. I won't judge. At least, not any more than I already have. Feel free to glance through the posts. Leave a comment if you'd like.

I am going to go take a shower with boiling water, bleach, and a brillo pad.

(Air) Hugs & (Air) Kisses,
Emily

Jesus. The Dog, Not the Carpenter.

I should preface this by saying that here in Arizona, the name Jesus is quite common (pronounced "Hay/Suess" for those that sat next to me in French class. In Michigan.). Everyone and/or their brother is named Jesus here in Arizona.

One time I went out to eat and we spilled our waters and we could not find our waiter, but Jesus was there with a hand towel to help wipe things up. It's a very Jesus-y thing to do. Help those in need. Of a hand towel.

So imagine my surprise when on the first day of school, one of my students was telling me about her dog, Jesus, and she actually pronounced like a girl from MI would pronounce it - "Gee/Zuss".

"Jesus is so mean. He will bite you. He will bite your fingers like this." Demonstrates. "He will make you think that he is going to be nice but then NO. He is not nice."

And all I could think was, Wow. Totally not the behavior you would expect from the Son of God.

Friday's Highlight - Which I Forgot to Post

School started on Wednesday.

It's been rough.

This might be the year I take up drinking. Just kidding. I am more a Valium kind of girl. Less calories.

Not a lot of highlights right now.

On the way to bus duty, though, I ran into a very young student. Probably kinder or first grade. Didn't know her. That doesn't stop itty-bitties, though. They will talk to just about anyone.

Student: Do you think I am going to miss the bus?
Me: No. I don't think so.
S: Are you sure?
Me: You won't miss the bus. Promise. I have to go to the buses, too. So you will be fine.
S: So this one day, I went to a meadow.
Me: Really? That sounds like fun.
S: Oh, it was. I saw butterflies and beautiful flowers and even some tweety birds.
Me: Wow. Did the tweety birds sing?
S: Yes. It was beautiful.
Me: Do you know what we call birds that sing?
S: Shakes head
Me: Songbirds.
S: Oh, I saw butterflies, beautiful flowers, and the most amazing songbirds.

It made my day. Parents, talk with your children. Introduce them to things. Expand their vocabulary. Offer them experiences. You don't need money to do this. Promise.

Oh, and I was kidding about the Valium. Relax, people.

Don't Let It Go to Your Head, Jeremiah.

Time: End of May
Place: School
Why: Packing a shit ton of boxes


Emily: Packing/filling HUGE boxes with everything - packs of paper, textbooks, etc.
Jeremiah: What are you doing?
Emily: Um...I'm packing.
J: Did you ever think how heavy those boxes are going to be to move?
E: No. Because you are going to move them, Mr. Muscles.
J: I don't know if I can lift those boxes.
E: What? Why? Are you wimpy? Do you have saggy muscles?
J: Seriously? You're making fun of me?
E: If it's too much for you, I'll have students push the boxes on Monday.
J: USE SMALLER BOXES. They are easier to move.
E: NO. Because they get filled too quickly.
Jeremiah gives up, I gloat, filling my giant boxes with dictionaries, encyclopedias, and the like.




Time: Beginning of August
Place: School
Why: Unpacking a shit ton of boxes

Emily: Looks around at the huge boxes stacked in new classroom. No assistance to be had. Desperately tries to lift/move one to start unpacking new classroom. It's a negative. Almost has an accident straining so hard. Awe, crap.

Okay, so this ONE TIME, Jeremiah was right.

A Little Perspective, Brought to You by Goodwill

I would like to premise this by saying a few things. One, this really isn't my story to tell, but by being in a relationship with one who writes, I would say that you know that you are forfeiting your story-telling rights. Two, as my mom told me when I told her this story, "Sometimes I think things happen for a reason." and this totally did. Fate.

Jeremiah and I were waiting in line at Goodwill. He had vinyl and I had books. We were buying separately, so when the lane next to us opened up, I shooed Jeremiah over as "The next person in line! That's you! Go!".

When he got there, the young guy that was checking him out noticed the long scar going from Jeremiah's ear to mid-scalp. Checkout guy asked Jeremiah how he got the scar. Jeremiah told him. Turns out that the guy had had the same surgery for a tumor removal. What are the odds?

And then he said:

"What did you have to relearn?"

Jeremiah's reply was that he had not had to relearn how to do anything.

This guy had to relearn everything. EVERYTHING. He could not even walk.

What a humbling experience. For someone (sorry, Jeremiah) who has been so impatient with the healing process and so eager to be back to his presurgery state, I think it puts things in perspective.

Jeremiah was able to bike for the first time yesterday. 

We are so lucky.

Who Can It Be Knockin' On My Door?

The police came to our house this morning. While I was still upstairs resting/sleeping. My first thought was, "Damn it. What the hell did Jeremiah do?" Which is redonk, because Jeremiah is like, a boy scout. But we all have our pasts, and you just never know*.

My second thought was, "I need to put on pants." as currently I was donning a t-shirt that I have had since I was 12 (If you were to think that means it has a lot of holes, you would be correct. A large piece of Swiss cheese would have offered more coverage.).

And on an aside, when I was in Vegas last week (Vegas, Baby!), a co-worker said she would be stopping by my room every morning and I was all, "If it takes me awhile to answer, don't be alarmed, I am just putting on pants." Then it occurred to me that this co-worker did not really know me that well, and it was probably more information that she wanted. And also? She might not stop by for fear of catching me without pants. And then I could wipe out on the tile floor in the bathroom and hit my head and DIE and no one would know.

Seriously, I can't be the only person who puts on their pants right before they head out, can I? I get my top half ready (hair, make-up, shirt) and THEN I put on pants. If I had nicer thighs and hips I might just forgo the pants altogether. Such a pain.

Anyway, the police came to the door this morning.

After I got over the fear of not having on pants and wondering what secret life Jeremiah might be leading, I got curious.

Me: Well???
J: They wanted to know about the neighbors.
Me: Smokey Smokersons? Those would be the creepy neighbors with the hound.
J: No, the house across the street. They were wondering about the cars parked and if there was a woman there and blah blah blah blah...So I told them blah blah blah blah...
Me: Silence for a bit. Jeremiah?
J: Yeah?
Me: You realize that you gave them wrong information? The neighbors you just told them about moved out over a year ago. They don't even live there anymore.
J: Shit.  So that's not the same truck?
Me: No.
J:Maybe I should go tell them what you told me.
Me: You think?

He came back in and told me that he told the police "That the one with the memory told me I was wrong, here's what is really happening at that house..." and the police told him that MY version of the neighbors matched another witness's/neighbor's story.

Now I am super curious about what is going on up in this neighborhood. Tell you what. We make every effort to be neighborly to two of the most normal neighbors on the street. Stick together. My new motto.

*At some point, I may share with you the time bounty hunters came to the house in the middle of the night with all sorts of weapons and scaring me almost to death. Having your house closed in on? Not a great feeling. I thought Jeremiah was at fault that time, too. He was not. And he loves the amount of trust I place in him.