Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Yesterday Afternoon: The Three Hours that Seemed Like 30
I'm going to try and recount this to you with all the details but the whole thing was kind of in a whirl, so I may leave something out.
School got over and Tony came home right after I got an email from his special ed teacher saying that he and Ricardo were disrupting study hall. She was pretty upset by their behavior and they had earned a visit to the principal and in school suspension. Tony had been the culprit, egging Ricardo on. I was reading the email to him while he was doing his chore (with the supervision of his new PCA) and he got hung up on the fact that the teacher was reporting that he said the F word when he really had only said the S word. In the middle of the conversation, the phone rang and it was the principal. I mouthed to him to be quiet because it was Mr.*****, but as soon as I said hello Tony says, very loudly, "Oh, is that Mr. ******. Because if it is you can tell him that Mrs. ******* is retarded. I did NOT say the F word, I said the S word." At which point the principal started cracking up, making me laugh as well at the craziness of Tony focusing on that as the only issue. He and I talked a bit and he finally stopped laughing to say, "I hate to tell you this, but I'm not calling about Tony or Ricardo. I needed to tell you about Mercedes!" Yikes.
It was a cell phone issue -- probably her biggest problem at school -- but it won't be a problem for her in the next few days. ;-)
During this whole time, our unnamed son was preparing for his field trip to jail. He was bouncing around packing up his stuff (so that nobody would mess with it), giving us instructions about how and what to do, what he needed done for him before he left and while he was there, and acting as if he was a beloved son heading off to college after not speaking a civil word to us in months. He then finally lets us know he needs a ride to work (he did get a job a couple weeks ago) and from there will go to jail. His time at work includes a few more texts of things he'd like us to do for him, like put money into Inmate Canteen.com so he has money for snacks. Yeah, seriously, it exists.
So that buzz is going on the the background while Tony's PCA is trying to get him to do his chore, and Dominyk's PCA is watching him clean his room, and then Bart decides that because Rand didn't clean up the kitchen he's not going to cook today... so we're going out for pizza. Except that..... WIlson all the sudden has wrestling signups and practice at 6:15, Dom won't be home til six, Tony not until 5:15, Ricardo and Lean not out of practice until 5:30, and Jimmy needing to be somewhere by 7. We hurry up and try to make it work. Meanwhile John is texting asking if he and Courtney and Isaac can join us for dinner and then all spend the night. We head out to eat and Dominyk has a huge meltdown because he used too much garlic cheese bread sauce and everyone got mad at him. While I'm trying to order pizza, Kari texts to tell me she's sick with the stomach flu, meaning I won't have a Y partner AND that we have to feel guilty for having her over for dinner while Bart was obviously still contagious or something.
We were also informed during this time that John has decided to quit school and try to get his GED, and that he is most likely going to be living with us, signifying another one or two adults watching TV in my house while they try to get a job. Rand filled out a new application yesterday. Pray.
So, things finally settle down at about 8 and John begins to rearrange Mike's room already. I texted John to remind him that that was actually unnamed son's bed and so he needed to use one of ours. John texts back "he says I can use it." I said, "When did he say that?" John said, "Just now. He's here. They didn't have his paperwork ready so he can't go to jail til tomorrow." Seriously?
And there you have it. A day (well, three hours or so) in the life of the Fletchers. And this is following up on the weekend.
And idiot that I am I keep asking Bart, "I wonder why I feel so exhausted?"
But in the midst of it all, there was those moments of joy I talk about... the ones that if you can find one a day the next day's worth living? Just look at those pictures and understand how I can go to bed thinking, "Life doesn't get much better than this."