Busy Bee

It was “Dress as Your Twin” day at school – a day where kids get “spirit points” for their “colour squad” if they dress the same as someone else, and my kids took it to the extreme, dressing in the exact same outfit, down to the socks and underwear.  Extra points for that?  I am volunteering in Jake’s class this afternoon; apparently I will be cutting things out and gluing them to other things, which is certainly not my forte.  I hope I don’t need to use a glue gun.  The last time I volunteered for such an in-class activity, it was when Mark was in kindergarten and I accidentally stabbed myself in the hand with the scissors while cutting out doors on milk-carton birdhouses.  I was, apparently, not modelling good scissor behaviour. 

I thought it would be sort of fun to help out in Jake’s class, but evidently I am the only one.  Jake is not exactly thrilled by this invasion of his personal space, so it’s good that his teacher phoned last night and asked if I would do the work in the library, not the classroom, as it is too crowded.  The other day I was bringing a backordered book to his classroom, and his entire class was so! excited! to see me! but Jake continued to just do his work like I wasn’t even there, responding to my greeting with a talk-to-the-hand type nod of his head.  Later he chastised me a little: “I’m supposed to be doing work, not getting distracted.”  Okay.  This is the same child with whom I fist-bump when saying goodbye in the school lineup.  I’m not sure what is going to happen when he’s a teenager. 

I have a very busy weekend ahead of me, socially.  Normally my weekends consist of a whole lot of nothing, but I actually have two events this weekend.  One is my husband’s office Christmas party, and so I will wear a nice dress and heels and everything!  I really love office Christmas parties, even the super boring ones, because I get to wear a dress!  And eat food that is not prepared by me!  And engage in small talk!  I am the motherfucking queen of small talk.  I can small talk with everyone from your elderly aunt to inanimate objects.  BRING IT ON, PEOPLE, and how about all this snow?

The second event is a vegetarian potluck at one the home of one of my beautiful yoga friend’s.  I am tasked with dessert.  My husband not-so-secretly wants to sneak in hamburgers.  Speaking of which, I received a copy of Rachael Ray’s new cookbook for review.  I accepted because cookbooks make me squee, but I’m realizing now that Rachael Ray’s recipes are not exactly vegetarian-friendly.  There is bacon in everything, including the cupcakes, which seems very, very strange to me.

I have been doing a lot of volunteering at the school, and so when Jake received forms for swim lessons I quickly stuffed them into their envelope without checking off the “Yes! I can volunteer!” box.  NO I CANNOT.  I refuse to stand in the wet, gross, germy change room with hysterical children, trying to locate someone’s sodden socks.  I loathe the school swim lessons anyway: the way the kids never, ever pass a level, the waivers I have to sign indicating no liability if my child drowns or gets hit by a car walking to the pool or succumbs to death and/or dismemberment in running-on-the-deck related ways, the way the lessons are always in the dead of winter and the children all seem to be hacking up a lung or wiping their runny noses in the pool.  No, I will not volunteer to supervise in the change room.  I just hope to escape dismemberment myself from today’s volunteer activity.


  1. I don’t get to go to M’s Christmas party this year, as they changed the weekend for it and I’m already committed to something… and also because it’s in Charlottetown where the head office is instead of in Halifax where I am and it would be an 8hr round trip by car, plus at least one babysitter & maybe two, and Baby G is still waking up at dawn so partying until 2AM doesn’t seem enjoyable.

    Whew, run-on sentence.

    School swimming lessons sound horrendous. What a nightmare.

  2. November and December are like June. Everything you participate in has a wrap-up-party. I wish I could remember this from year to year and prepare myself but no, every year I look at my calendar and freak out about the book club/writer’s group/Christmas concert/ preschool party/preschool board dinner all in the same two week spread.

    And I concur, school swimming lessons can piss up a rope. I pretty much have to smoke a pound of weed just to deal with getting my own 2 kids out of the pool/changeroom. I may have just exaggerated for effect.

  3. As in, you only smoke a HALF pound of weed? Anyone remember me volunteering for the Swim to Survive program for Eve’s class? I almost drowned the kids myself. Where’s your epi-pen? IN MY EYE!

    I bow to you, goddess of small talk. I hate the fact that my poor husband’s poor company shrunk from three thousand employees to three hundred, except NO MORE CHRISTMAS PARTY.

    Have a great week-end sweetie.

  4. “spirit points” for their “colour squad” — I’m going to theorize that someone in that school’s administration is a big Harry Potter fan.

    I went to a vegan potluck party one time. Why one time? Because we all brought vegan dishes and were served a main course of boiled tofu dogs, while the vegan hostess’ non-vegan husband barbequed and ate a steak in front of us. End of Friendship.

    Enjoy your social outings! I’m going to a speed skating meet. Jealous?

  5. Yes you are the motherfucking queen of small talk. You should show his coworkers how well you cut milk cartons 🙂
    So you do the spirit day too? This is the first I’ve ever heard of it. Chunky is on the green team. His shirt is so big that it skims dangerously below his knees….but it kills me in cuteness.

  6. Ohhh Great. I liked.



  7. The change rooms at the pool always send me into a rage. An internal rage that is hopefully not obvious to all, but is still there ready to explode. My kids have learned not to talk to me until they are all clothed and we are out of the soggy room. Ugh! It makes me shudder to think of volunteering in that.

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