Tag: Glasses

Back to School

As a former NYer, August is still summer. It’s still a month away from school. It’s still hot. As a Southerner (I can claim “southern status,” because I’ve lived below the Mason-Dixon line for nearly 1/3 of my life–also, you should hear me drawl), August is the start of the school year. Summer’s over. And it’s disgustingly hot.

This year is like no other. Obviously. That is truly the understatement of the year. Even though I opted to keep my kids doing remote learning for the first quarter, I was grateful that the district decided to start everyone remote, at least for the first month. Which made me less of the bad guy when I informed Shea that she would not be going to middle school.

Xander is more than willing to never go back to school again. He can’t even fully appreciate the laid-back format of Remote Learning with Sammi Steeves. Normally, on the first day of school (or any school day, for that matter), I would have to wake him up at 6, so that he can make it to the bus by 7. Xander likes to hit the Mom Snooze Button, which requires me going into his room every 5 minutes: “are you awake yet? How about now? Xander? Xander?!” Then I sing. Loudly. Operatically. Obnoxiously.

Thanks to remote learning, I don’t start the harassment until 7:30. He would be 30 minutes into an hour-long bus ride by that point, so really, we should all be feeling pretty good about the extra sleep.

Truth be told, my alarm went off at 6:30, and I rolled out of bed and wandered around like low-battery Wall-E for the first 15 minutes. Where’s. The coffee. It isn’t like I don’t already get up between 6 and 6:30, but for some reason my Rufus Alarm didn’t go off this morning. My Rufus Alarm tends to go off some time before Justin leaves for work at 5:30–it’s a lot of snorting loudly in my ear, sniffing my nightstand (which instantly gets me out of bed, because even though he’s never done it, I’m convinced that this is the morning he will steal my glasses), more snorting with a hefty amount of nudging, and then usually he’ll bring me something from dirty laundry–a sock, shorts, a pair of underwear. He’s big on gifting. Sometimes I get a shoe, but rarely is it even mine. On this morning, even Rufus was wanting to sleep through the first day of school (he did bring me a ball of used painter’s tape later in the morning, so I wouldn’t feel forgotten).

Even though everyone was reminded over the past week that school would require getting dressed, there was still a decent amount of complaining. “But, why??” Well, Xander, if you wouldn’t sit top naked in class, I don’t think you should be top naked during google meetings with your classmates.

Then comes the fun part. Fill out an “All About Me” form. Typical first day of school stuff.
“Mom, how do I spell Trampoline.”
“T-R-A-M-P-O-L-I-N-E…Why??”
“My teacher wants to know an area where I need improvement.”
Ladies and gentlemen, we’re a solid 5 minutes into the school day.
“Xander, she means what school subject needs improvement.”
“Ohhhhhhhh!!! All of them.”

By this point, I foolishly assume he has the hang of it, and get back to cleaning out the fridge. Then I hear Shea: “Xander, you can’t put ‘backflips’ under After School Responsibilities.” Ah, yes. While most children are doing homework, or taking out the trash, I obviously require that my children do no less than 10 backflips.

I double-checked the sheet before he submitted it. The child used “backflips” to answer 5 questions, including, “when it comes to learning, my strengths are……” backflips. I fail to see how that is a learning strength, but what do I know–I can’t do a single backflip.

Happy First Day of School!!! Only 179 to go!

I Can’t See Clearly Now, My Glasses are Gone

My son is the king of leaving his glasses everywhere. He might be really good about wearing them for a week, and then I might not see them for a month–they have been MIA since the start of Coronapocalypse.

Once upon a time, I also left my glasses everywhere. I don’t know why I was so thoroughly against wearing them. Maybe because I got my first pair at 6, and was the only kid in my class with glasses. I would accidentally lose them (yes Mom, the 2 months that they were lost and gone forever….on the bottom shelf of my nightstand, I honestly did not remember putting them there. I promise); I would intentionally leave them at home. I did all I could to not wear them. Which I look back on now and think how crazy that is. But now, if I tried to walk across my bedroom without my glasses, chances are, I would die.

On the days I would “accidentally” leave my glasses at home, at some point in the day I would look up to see my Mom walking at me, waving them in the air, announcing, “Sammi!!! You forgot your glasses!!!” It probably was not nearly that dramatic. But in my mind, she might as well have been carrying a megaphone: “Attention! May I have your attention please! Would Sammi please stop leaving her glasses at home, because I’m just going to keep bringing them to her at school!”
Of course, that was basically double embarrassment–now everyone will know that, not only do I wear glasses, but…..I have a mother! Oh the shame.

I am much less in denial these days. Yes, I do have a mom. And also, I wear glasses…when I’m not wearing contacts (which is most of the time).

Xander’s issue is less embarrassment than it is his total inability to remember where he leaves his things. I have found his glasses on the kitchen counter, in my nightstand, floating around in his backpack. They have spent days in my van, and I’ve even found them tucked away in the shoe rack. And, in his defense, he comes by this completely honestly. I have also found my “lost” phone in my sock drawer, the refrigerator, and also on the shoe rack.

For the past 3 weeks, I have been under the assumption that he had once again left them at school. With Coronapocalypse closing schools for the rest of the year, I had accepted they were lost and gone forever…until the school notified us that we had to drop off school packets and library books today! There might be home for these glasses yet!

Unfortunately, today during “pick up this school biz so you can get to work teaching your kids for the rest of the school year,” the Principal sent someone in to check his desk. Hello, glasses, are you there?? No?? Ok. Alas, no glasses.

I can’t wait to locate them in an unopened box of cereal. Or in his back pocket. Neither place would surprise me. If he walked downstairs wearing them right now and told me he’s been wearing them this whole time, that wouldn’t even surprise me.