Wacky Girl: “Let’s watch South Park.”

me: “No.”

Honestly — you have to show some kind of control, occasionally.

Dear Internet,

You still there? Even with everything I’ve put you through the last few weeks? Whew. Close one, huh? Were you worried for my sanity? Don’t be, please. Although, Jesus God, it was a little hit or miss, eh? Luckily there was just enough cocoa left to bake a Volcano Cake tonight. How about a kitty picture? (Wacky Cat 2, ten years ago; photo by my sister.)

“Some people crack, you bake,” my husband just told me. Yeah, I crack eggs. That’s better than cracking up. I was putting the cake in the oven and reorganizing the kitchen. Life gets worse, then it gets better, then you do the whole thing all over again.

In Italian, “Peggio di cosi, si muore.” (Literally: “It can be worse than this — worse than this, you die.” Or something like that.) Or you could have a Neighbor from Hell like this one.

Here’s my other favorite — Wacky Cat 1 is grooming him. He got filthy at the pound. (Pic by my sis? Or my husband? Who knows.)

The rhodies are blooming, the honeysuckle has already inhaled the back fence — it is covered and nowhere to be seen. My hostilities? Gone. I turned over all six of our garden plots this week — so far we’ve planted potatoes, two rows of corn, yellow zucchini, two kinds of peppers and a tomato. We’ll plant bush beans later, more tomatoes, and I don’t know what else. Basil. We harvested what was left of the winter kale and my husband braised it for dinner last night with olive oil, garlic, onion and a dash of lime juice.

Kids? Still home. Homeschooling? Still going well. We’ve been having fun with this site (Wacky Girl: “Are you serious? These words are too hard!”), and this one and this one. We started out here. There are all kinds of preschool sites out there, with coloring sheets and fact sheets and all that. Wacky Boy has mostly been working through his sister’s old workbooks, doing word puzzles and matching games. For fun he loves the Yuckiest Site on the Internet and I Spy Fantasy. And Sesame Street. We’ll probably go to the science museum this week, possibly the World Forestry Center, or back to the zoo.

Honestly, who has time for school? I’m being flip — they miss their friends. I miss my quiet time. But why get them all, uh, de-loused, to be blunt, and then send them back to get lousy again? There is no point to that. And I don’t miss the scene there, the drama, the runny noses, the drinking fountains that don’t work, the vomiting, the volunteering.

(Note that in my mind “volunteering” is right there alongside “vomiting.” What the hell went wrong, formerly altruistic self? Where did you go?)

I don’t miss the crazy cafeteria and the special needs kids who need individual aides but will never have them. My kids are doing well in spite of the public school system, not because of it. I cannot say the same for a lot of the kids. They need help they are not getting and that both pisses me off and makes me feel helpless.

Principal and district are negotiating terms of getting a Lice Swat Team involved in the whole brouhaha. Because the school secretary, poking at the occasional kid’s head with a popsicle stick, with a look of visible disdain on her face? It is not cutting it. Wacky Cat 2 says:

love,

WM

Don’t be preachy with other people’s kids, dammit. Just don’t.

Ask Dear Prudence.

We sent our kids back to school yesterday for the first time in two weeks. My son, my husband and I have not had… I can’t say the word anymore. The situation. We have not had the situation do a little merry buggy dance on our heads. Although if you asked anyone at the school or in our neighborhood, they’d tell you, oh, yeah, they all four had it, it was terrible.

No, it has just been one problem scalp here.

My girl — my girl who refuses to let us shave her head, or clipper cut it — my girl has been clear of the situation since Tuesday, April 10th. That’s when she was clear of adult bugs, nits and anything resembling them. My girlfriend L, and really, God love her for doing this, picked eggs off my daughter’s head on Monday, April 9th. She had a couple of dead nits on her head on Friday, April 13th.

So technically, as of yesterday a.m. we have been “situation-free” for thirteen days. That’s 13. Can I say that more LOUDLY? Almost two weeks. We were in okay shape. I thought. I combed through her hair yesterday with tea tree oil, found nothing, braided it and sent her off. The school secretary (because our school nurse is only there two days a week) checked her out, thoroughly. All clear.

She comes home with an adult louse on her head, several nits and lots of eggs. (The Internet, in unison: Duh.) The principal refuses to check heads, refuses to send a “we have lice” letter home, (although they did send home a generic “here’s what to do if you have them” letter), refuses to pick up the phone and call parents.

We’re not going back to school this year.

Once again, the kids and I are doing TV Turn-off Week (April 23-29). This is our fourth year! And once again, it’s Stanley Cup play-offs, so my husband gets a pass to watch hockey. And celebrate 4:20. Damn, update that blog, dude.

That’s fair, I’m thinking. Hockey is different. I mean, hockey, hockey, hockey!!! (The kids and I don’t join him.)

I’m also thinking… “No Grey’s Anatomy???” Good thing there’s not a No Blogging Week. (Yes, I realize we should try for no computer time, too. But my kids don’t often play computer games, so that’s no big loss for them to go without. And blogging saves my sanity — what little of it is left. Plus, writing is my source of income. And Hockey God is a computer guy, so keyboarding = $$$ at my house. So don’t try to take our keyboards away!)

Are y’all doing the no TV thing at your houses?

Can you even deal with another post on lice? The whole thing — the social stigma, the health consequences of kids getting pesticides dumped on their heads over and over (pesticides that don’t always work. The nurse I talked with says there is a lot of concern among the traditional medical community because the pesticides — Rid, Nix, etc. aren’t strong enough for whatever SuperLouse is out there)… my anger at parents who intentionally send their kids to school lousy. Who refuse to pick up the phone and say, “I’m sorry, but my kid has lice, and we didn’t know when we came to your place for the sleepover/playdate/birthday party…” My anger at the school district and the staff, for letting this problem get out of hand. ONE KID CAN INFEST A WHOLE CLASS, SEE? I am no genius here, but one goddamn louse is all it takes.

(more…)

Oh, that’s right. It’s almost Thursday here.

Without further ado, Wacky House presents…

Why My Mom Is So Great
By Wacky Girl

13. She’s funny.

12. She’s nice.

11. She’s cool.

10. She likes to play with me. (But she writes too much. “Like now!” Wacky Boy, yelling from across the room.)

9. She bakes excellent cookies. My favorites are chocolate chip and Mexican Wedding Cakes.

8. She takes me to places, like Finnegan’s!

7. We like to garden and play in the yard.

6. In the summer, we have “dive-in movies.” (We set up the laptop on the patio table and the kids swim in the wading pool. Free and easy. WM)

5. She reads Nancy Drew with me.

4. She likes some of the things I do, like watching TV and playing games and reading books.

3. We play Girls Club.

2. We both love chocolate.

1. Sometimes on Easter, we eat chocolate bunnies and racecars, broken up into a bowl of popcorn, while we watch Eloise movies.

(This was her idea, I swear! And how sweet is this kid? Sweeter than a chocolate bunny, that’s for sure. WM)

from Zip:

“The real trouble with reality is that there’s no background music.”
— anon.

(Unless you’re me, then there’s always a Beastie Boys song playing somewhere in the background.)

Homeschooling, Day 8:

(more…)

My husband — you may know him as Hockey God — did a nice photo essay on his blog. You should go check it out. And yes, I did say that about the Catholic church. Because I’m sick of all my snobby friends saying, “Well, at Cathedral/Holy Cross/Madeleine School/Holy Redeemer… etc. We don’t have those kind of problems.” (Lice, sex abuse, child abuse, meth monkeys, teachers who abuse kids…) Liars! You do so. You just cover it up better. Only, not always.

And from Whoorl and Snackie’s World (“Where Everybody is Bitchy and Nobody is Getting Licked!”), today’s meme:

1. Hey baby, what’s your sign? More importantly, do you believe in astrology? Why or why not?
Cancer, on the cusp of Gemini, with Sagittarius rising. Really, I think this explains it all. Yeah, and I was born in Year of the Dragon. Wacky Girl is Virgo and Perfect, Wacky Boy is Aries and Insane, Hockey God is double Sag with Scorpio Rising or something and Trouble. Of course I believe in astrology.

2. If you were offered a million dollars to never wear lip gloss again, would you take it?
Yes, because “chapstick” is not “lip gloss.” Ditto “lipstick” is not “lip gloss.”

3. Which blogger would you like to trade lives with for just one day and why?
Nothing But Bonfires, because geez, who wouldn’t want to be Holly?

4. Do you want to have more children or have you not thought that far ahead yet?
Ha, ha, ha! You’re funny! Yeah, they’re cute until they bring home lice. Then they’re not that damn cute anymore. No, we’re done. No more kids, no more dogs, no more lice.

5. And finally, the most important question of the day: mayonnaise or Miracle Whip?
Mayo. But only on our hair.

PS — Whoorl was much more imaginative about this than I was. I’m just in a hurry. Laundry and all. Week Two of the Louse: More Cetaphil on hair; bed pillows, quilts, blankets on hot cycle in dryer for half an hour; sheets, towels and coats through laundry; entire house vacuumed again; and me, oh my! I even found time to plant cosmos, pansies and hollyhocks with the kids. (My husband is doing the vacuuming. With our new fancy purple Dyson vacuum cleaner. The man is a saint.)

Dang, talk about a pick-me-up. Wacky Boy, The One Who is Now Five, has been recognizing a few words here and there for awhile now. Just now he brought a worksheet to me, one of a set from school that he’s been diligently working on since we’ve been quarantined. This one had the names of the colors outlined, and you color in the blank once you figure out the word.

“Can you read this color, Mom?”

“Sure, pink. And the next one’s white. Do you need me to read the others?”

“No. That one’s red, and the next one’s yellow… Is it yellow, or orange?” he smiles.

“It’s orange.”

“And the next one is orange, then brown and then black.”

“You’re reading!”

“I read it.” He smiles even bigger.

His sister, yelling from the next room, “You read that all by yourself!”

I am so glad I was here for this.