Bed time story

I can't sleep as I think about this crazy weekend we have just had. Maybe it will put me to sleep to write about it. Maybe you will fall asleep reading it.

It started Friday. I went in to substitute as a 3rd wheel teacher (the teacher who walks around and helps the real teachers). This is an easy job. Sometimes you get to pull kids into your little office and really teach them instead of babysitting the big group of 25 students. However, when I got to the school they explained that both real teachers must have decided to go clubbing because they needed a sub for both teachers on this team. One teacher had scheduled a sub but the sub called in sick. This should have been a red flag to me but I said, "Sure, I'll sub for the sub."

This was all fine until the afternoon when the kids had me figured out. I am a pretty relaxed sub. If you are at least doing your work (which mostly consisted of playing math games on their devices - yes, that was the actual assignment) then I am not going to hassle you... that is, until I start getting reports from other kids that you weren't doing what you were supposed to. Usually I will do something about it after 2 witnesses have come forward so by the time 4 kids came to tell me that a group of 5 kids weren't doing what they were supposed to, I was pretty sure it is time to intervene. I decided to reign it all in and have all the kids go back to their desks to continue playing math games but one kid is not having it. He starts arguing with me and spouting off his disdain because I am a terrible teacher...etc. I feel myself getting frustrated and I asked him if he would like to go talk to the principal about it. The kid agrees. I said, "Deal" and he left the class.

Now all the kids want to know what just went down because kids don't usually get sent to the principal anymore. My own child asked later, "why didn't you just give him a "step" (which is the normal punishment)? And I am still trying to figure out the answer to that.

It almost felt like in the heat of the moment when you tell your kid to go see their dad for a punishment. As a mother, and having no formal education as an educator, I feel really terrible about how this all played out. I am considering writing a note to the kid because I feel like I should have handled that better.

So I am still stewing over this as we run a bunch of errands after work and I am preparing for a ward (church) party that I am in charge of on the following night. It is getting later and we decide to take the kids home while we run to Walmart to pick up a treadmill that we had ordered.

Did you know that Walmart pick-up closes at 8pm? Well it does. Don't go there and try to finagle anything with the manager to pick up your order because he Does. Not. Care.

On our way home, my daughter calls to say that they let the neighbor in because she was locked out of her house. (My kids are dumb. No matter how many times we tell them not to even go near the door when we leave them for 30 minutes, one of them can't help but peek at the door and then fall over into the hallway so that the doorbell-ringer can see them.)

We are pulling in the driveway and see the locked-out neighbor's husband in shorts and flip flops on the sidewalk. We asked if he is locked out. He seems confused and we tell him to just come inside our house. (These neighbors are refugees so we assumed that the confusion was a translation issue.)

I walked inside our house to find our neighbor with red eyes huddled in our living room with her 2 year old son... and right behind me is her husband, whom she is not happy to see. We aren't sure what is going on but we tell him to sit down, and he casually does. We try to make small talk and end up having this awkward conversation where be basically confesses to having been drinking. He explained that things had gotten heated and his wife and son ran out and were trying to hide from him. They all stayed for an hour until another one of their family members came home so that they wouldn't be alone together.

Oh. Em. Gee. I don't even know what to say and I am not sure if I should approach her to see if she needs help. She lives with her husband's family while her family is stuck in her native country.

Saturday we went snow hiking. It was beautiful and just cool and we got to go with friends who we met when we lived in California. It was really awesome - except for the part where we had our kids with us, who just complained, said their boots didn't fit, their gloves were cold, they were hungry, when will this be over?... etc. Except for that part.

We got a late start and a later finish and so we were not going to have enough time to set up, decorate, and shower before this ward party that I was in charge of. I am not proud of this but there were words said on that car ride home that I am not proud of (mostly because he wanted to go home and change his clothes but the timing would not allow for that.)

Miraculously and with the help of a few people we had enough time to set up and run home to shower. Party went great. Someone told us that they would take care of the clean up and we were exhausted so we went home...but not before Jeremy says, "Can we please go get the treadmill?"

We are halfway there before my son looks out the window and exclaims in a near panic, "Where are we? We were just at the church! I thought we were going home!"

We are just taking the long way kiddo.

We get the treadmill home from a Walmart that you really should be packing in, if you know what I mean. We were taking our lives in our hands going there 2 nights in a row.

We get the thing upstairs. Jeremy starts unpacking it and I get in my P'J's. The next thing I know Jeremy is staring at me with a bloody finger saying, "Are you going to take me or am I going to have to drive there myself?"

And we spent the rest of the night together watching Talladega Nights in the emergency room waiting for them to stitch him up.

I hope that you and I can now sleep after all this, although I am still wondering if I should write that kid a note. Thoughts?