mothers day

Happy Mother's day. I hope this give you all a giggle.

Bitter sweet.

As I write this there are now only 8 days left of school and I am both very happy about that,but at the same time I am feeling sad. The reason for the mixed feelings is that when I leave the cafertia next Wednesday it will not just be for the summer but it will be for the last time. I will not be coming back to the cafeteria next fall as a permanent staff member. The only possibility would be as a substitute if one of the regular workers was sick and I did not already have a substitute teaching position for that day or I was already working full time teaching somewhere else.

On the one hand leaving means never again will I have to prepare 42 Caesar chicken salads only to have 17 of them left over after lunch. Never again will I have to pan 12 pans of corn dogs and shuffle them from the storage rack to the ovens to the hot box again and man are they heavy. Never again will I need to make over three hundred servings oaf instant mashed potatoes, which really gives you an upper body work out, and then scoop those same servings onto a plate which after a while can make your wrist pretty sore. Never again will I have to wash, rinse, and sanitize anything. Yes that part is all good especially now. Due to the swine flue scare we have had to cup everything that goes on the salad bar. During this week alone I have cupped about 240 little cups of sour cream, 100 cups of olives and I guess 500 freaking cups of pudding. No, I won’t miss any of that.

On the other hand I have the privilege of working with the greatest women who have become my friends who I will miss so very much. As much as I disliked the actual physical part of my job I always looked forward to going to work because I knew we would be laughing, dancing, and enjoying each others company. We have supported each other, encouraged each other, and even went to Las Vegas together. I think it is because of our friendship that we have been able to work so well together as a team to get the job done and the kids fed each and every day and I will miss that. I told them when I leave next week they will have to retire my apron. The assistant manager and I are both big fans of NCIS and she jokingly told me that no matter who they hire to replace me she is going to call them Probie. I told her they should call the new person “Not Momster” because no body can replace me.

I only hope that wherever I end up I never lose touch with these women who made my three years in the cafeteria some of the best years of my life. I thank you both.

It’s not rocket science!

I consider myself pretty smart. I finished my teaching program with a 3.82 average which I don’t think is too shabby so why can’t I read the directions to crochet a stupid triangle shawl? I had a terrible time figuring it out because it’s written in a secret code. I used goggle to find out how to read crochet code and it still did not help me understand what they meant by ch-2hch, skip space turn, (arhggg) what the heck do they want from me! I went to Michaels and asked d for help. They may sell the yarn, the hooks and books, but that doesn’t mean they know what to do with them. I did however find a book Crocheting for Dummies. That’s me, so I bought it. It was a little more helpful, but I still didn’t quit get it. I have had more success just by trial and error and hopefully the shawl I am making will turn out ok.

If any one out there can break the crochet code and is willing to share the secret with me I would be forever grateful.

What an ordeal.

Webster’s dictionary will tell you that an ordeal is a severe trial or experience, but ask any Boy Scout who has been chosen by his peers to be inducted into the Order of the Arrow and I think they will tell you something much different. They might tell you they were hungry because they didn’t get that much to eat, or that it was hard work completing their service project, or that it was hard keeping silent the entire weekend. They may even tell you they did not sleep well laying only on their ground cover without a tent, but I think they will also tell that it was an honor to be chosen and that having accomplished the ordeal they feel very good about themselves.

That is what I hope my son says when he comes home from his ordeal Sunday afternoon. I am a little worried because rain is in the forecast while he is gone but sleeping in the rain won’t kill him, just make him miserable but I am pretty confident that he will dry out again. He is quite capable of existing on little food because if breakfast, lunch or dinner is not to his liking, which most often is not, he will state loudly, “I guess I won’t be eating with you”. That used to bother me as I felt it was my duty as a mother to make sure his tummy was full so I or his Dad would prepare him something to his liking. Now we just tell him it’s your choice. It is amazing that if he is really hungry how quickly what was once not so appetizing now becomes edible. I am not worried about his ability to perform hard wok as he is one of the hardest working boys I know when he is motivated and passionate about something. I am a little worried about the sleeping arrangement as I figure when he does come home he will be one very tired boy which translates to grumpy obnoxious boy who will torment and pick on his sister until I send him to his room for a nap. I am also concerned about his ability to remain silent for the weekend. Knowing that he takes after his mother I fear that not talking may be his undoing. I can’t imagine not being able to talk; just the idea makes me shudder.

But it’s not just the lack of food, hard work, bad sleeping conditions and enforced silence that will make this an ordeal for my son. I believe it is the fact that they are not allowed to bring any electronic comforts such as his mp3 player or hand held games. It also means he can’t take his Rubik’s Cube, yo-yo’s, or his beloved deck of cards for either performing magic or playing a very bizarre card game he calls mowe. I can’t tell you how to play because that would violate the rules. Like I said it’s a very weird game. Without any distractions and no one to talk to my son is going to have a lot of hours to do some pretty deep thinking which I think is the purpose for the ordeal in the first place. Not every boy is chosen for Order of the Arrow. They are voted on by their peers if they show willingness and cheerfulness in serving others as well as showing leadership skills. It is an honor to be asked and it is an excellent way to become a better person, scout and leader. I think when he comes home tomorrow afternoon he will be tired, dirty and sore, but he will also have learned about hard work and commitment.