Library Cards

Rio needed to research Chinese Alligators for his endangered species report. Which made it the perfect time to take my kids to the library to get their very own library cards.

"Hi, how can I help you?" the librarian behind the return desk asked as she motioned for me to sit down in front of her.

"My kids would like to get their own library cards," I informed her.

"Okay, I just need to see their school ID cards," she said pleasantly.

I looked over at Amaya and Rio, and back at the librarian confused. "They're ten and seven," I pointed out the obvious. "They don't have school ID cards."

"All schools issue ID cards, ma'am," she said implying I was stupid.

Of course I had to correct her. The librarian then informed me of the new criteria for library card holders. She would need to see something with their name on it. The names written inside their jackets wouldn't do.

"Do they have a state issued ID card?" she asked.

I raised my eyebrows. "Again, they're kids. They don't have a State issued ID card." I spoke slowly so she would understand. I rummaged through my purse. "How about their insurance cards?"

"No, sorry, we can't accept those," she apologized.

I received the same answer when I inquired about the legitimacy of presenting their social security cards or their Smile Safe Kids card issued by the school.

"Do you have their Birth Certificates?" she asked.

"Sure...oh...wait..." I snapped my fingers. "I must of left them in my other purse along with my marriage license and bank statements," I teased sarcastically.

I thanked the librarian for my next blog topic. She didn't return the gratitude. Instead, she defended her position, and public library policies, by filling me in on an evil sneaky ring of parents, that have dozens of library cards issued to children that don't exist! Used with the intent to defraud the library! "So," she told me, "Being a tax payer, you should be grateful, it's your tax dollars we're protecting."

Clearly we were in the fiction section of the library.

Butter

I've been making some positive life changes.  Most recently I've sworn off sugar.  The downside of cutting out sugar is that I've replaced it with butter.

"We use a lot of butter.  Have you noticed?"  My husband inquired.

I shrugged my shoulders indifferent to his observation.

"How many cubes of butter have you eaten today?"  He asked, confirming he was implying I have a problem.

"Um...I don't know...three?"  I answered.

"Maybe we shouldn't buy butter in bulk," he suggested. "What do you think?"

"Nonsense!" I dismissed his absurd suggestion.

I really don't see the problem.  It's my belief, that if you pair butter with an artichoke, it cancels out the butter. This logic can also be applied to salmon, asparagus, shrimp, crab, lobster, baked potatoes and popcorn. 

Clearly, I'm in denial.

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Gold Rush

Fourth graders are learning about the California Gold Rush. The subject has enthused Amaya to the point of planning future trips to Sutter's Mill to search for gold. But it hasn't motivated her enough to answer any questions correctly on the worksheets sent home or the reading test she had taken. 

She knows one thing...there was GOLD. I suppose that's the most important detail.

The best part of learning about the California Gold rush, getting to participate in an interactive assembly panning for gold. For a small fee.

"Mom! I found a piece of gold at the assembly today!" Amaya announced with excitement while pulling a piece of binder paper from her backpack. "I got to keep it!" Then she pointed to all of her pencil sketches on how to pan for gold.

"Where's the gold you found?" I asked.

"It's right there." She pointed to a small sketch in the upper right corner of her paper with a piece of tape over it.

"Where?"

"Right there!" She pointed again.

I squinted my eyes to focus. "Oh," I said smiling.

"This piece of gold is worth two dollars!" she informed me. "And it only cost seven dollars!"

Yup! It was the deal of a lifetime.

 

The Haircut

Tuesday night Rio informed me that his hair was way too long.  I agreed.  So I trimmed it for him.

"Mom...are you almost done?" he complained standing in the middle of the bathtub.

"Almost," I stalled, as I trimmed the back of his head. "Hold on," I diverted as I attempted to cut his unforgiving hair. "Okay..." Each cut lead to another cut.  After the front and back were trimmed, my confidence with the scissors grew and I went for the layers. "I got it!"

I stood back and looked proudly at my masterpiece. I put my fingers on top of his head and shagged his hair. I must say, his hair looked pretty darn good. WET!  But when it dried, it was obvious, I'm not a professional. 

"Rio, come in here," I said, guiding him by his hand into my bathroom.

"Oh, no...not more mom," Rio pleaded as he stood on top of the toilet.

"Real quick!" I promised.  "You can't go to school like that."  I took out the scissors and cut more. Someone should have stopped me.

"Are you done yet?" Rio asked.  "I know, hold on, okay, you got it," he laughed as he imitated me.

Feeling guilty for what I had done, I called my husband in for approval.  He didn't let me off the hook, instead he glared at me with eyes that asked Why? What have you done to his hair?  

"Oh come on!  It's not that bad!" I lied.

So I'm that mom! The mom who sends her child to school after butchering their hair.

"Did anyone notice your hair today at school?" I asked reluctantly.

"No, nothing, no one," he answered. "But I did get some funny looks," he confirmed my fears.

I took him for a real haircut immediately. 

When the girl at the salon looked at me funny...I blamed my husband.

Coupon for Mom

The most popular gifts in my house are hand made coupons. 

I've received the following coupons from Amaya and Rio, good for: I will clean my room, I will take out the trash, I will feed the dog, and I will watch T.V with you...to list a few.  All coupons for the things they do anyway, so I find these coupons amusing.

The most recent coupon was from Amaya, good for: Any lunch or dinner out of your choice for FREE!  I immediately put it inside my purse, swearing it would come to good use the next time the opportunity presented itself.

"You went to Togo's for lunch today Mom?" Amaya inquired.

"Yeah...why?" I asked.

"Well, did you use your coupon?"  Amaya asked urgently.

"No, I was by myself," I told her.

"Oh...well you can use it when ever you want." She then disclosed the coupon's terms for me. "It's an endless coupon, I can make more."

For weeks I've been interrogated by Amaya, regarding the dinner out coupon.  Have I used it, when will I use it, why didn't I use it?

Her questions have me asking my own questions.  Why would I use the coupon if I'm alone and does she think it actually has value? 

"She can't think it's a real coupon, right?" I asked my husband. "She's ten. She has to know the difference."

"I don't know?  She's ten and look how she spelled coupon," he pointed out.

 This might be a problem.
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Baby Mail

The mail arrived the other day just as it arrives everyday, minus Sunday. 

"BOX FULL! Please empty your mailbox." Were the instructions written on an orange postal service notice taped to my front door.

The mailbox was packed of the usual...bills, fliers, coupons, catalogues, ads, and junk mail.  What was unusual were the three pieces of baby mail shoved inside.

"This is random?" I thought as I quickly thumbed threw my mail, walking away from my mailbox. "A baby magazine? Hmm..."  I dismissed the magazine. It was obviously delivered to me in error.

I dumped the pile of mail on the kitchen table and began sorting it into the usual piles. Bills, coupons, ads, and trash.  That's when I came across baby magazine number two.

"What the heck!"  I said to myself.  "Whose mail is this?"  I inspected the white bar coded address boxes in the bottom left corners.  They both read: Nicole Garcia. I also received a welcome packet from Similac. No...I'm not expecting.

My husband walked in the door.

"I see you got the mail," he stated as he read the orange postal notice left by our mailman. "It says we have a large envelope or magazine to pick up," he informed me. "You want me to go get it?"

"No...if it's anything like what was delivered," I handed him the baby mail, "they can keep it!"

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Happy Mother's Day

Whose Dog Peed on my Lawn?

I've been watering the brown spots on my lawn for the past two weeks like a crazy person.

"Come look at this!" I demanded, dragging my husband to the front yard to inspect the grass.  "Someone's been letting their dog pee all over our lawn."

"What the..." my husband stated.

"There's one...two...three...four...five," I paced across the front yard pointing each one out. "There's like 30 brown spots!" I ranted.

"I wonder which neighbor it is?" he asked.

The kids immediately shared their suspicions. They accused the old man down the street with the two chihuahuas, the lady who jogs at night with her black lab, another neighbor with one white dog and one brown dog, and a wiener dog that was ruled out because it's too fat to waddle up the grassy slope to pee.  All other dogs and owners however, were suspects.

"When I find out who's doing this, I'm walking Max down to their house so he can pee on their lawn." I declared.

The kids helped by setting up look out posts to catch the peeing perpetrator. 

"DOG!" Rio yelled. "Don't let your dog pee on my moms grass." Rio warned people when they passed our house, as Amaya ran to the front corner to watch dog and owner until they were clear of our property.

"Nope, it's not them!" Amaya reported.

Then while watering yesterday I noticed something odd in the center of one of our many dead patches of grass. A shriveled up, dead weed. That's when it hit me. I called my husband out front to discuss the yard.

"You know the dogs that have been destroying our lawn?" I hinted.

"Yeah, what about them?" he asked.

"It's not dogs at all," I informed him. "It's you!"

"Me?" he asked as if I was accusing him of peeing on our lawn.

"A couple weeks ago, you sprayed weed killer around the sidewalks and planters..." I tried to trigger his memory. "Did you happen to use it on the weeds in the lawn also?"

"Oh, that's right I did," he admitted, laughing. "I forgot!"

"You do realize it says weed and grass killer on the bottle?" I asked.

He laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Apparently the joke's on me.