Party Poopers

Normally, at this time of year, I am freaking out. By now, I am usually immersed in the deep and dark chaos also known as birthday party planning. This will be the third year we've had a birthday party for the kids (we didn't get into parties until they turned four), and while I am still a considerable newbie in all things party, I actually have been very casual about it this year.

I asked the kids recently what they would want to do for their birthday, and they really weren't any help. I told them that I didn't want to do the Explorium again, while it is has been fun we have done it the last two years. We needed something different.

I also was looking for an alternative to the local bounce houses and Chuck E Cheese-style places. The bounce places are fun, but they are expensive and we are all bounced out. Chuck E. Cheese is just so crowded and over-stimulating. Surely there are other options?

When I ruled out bowling and gymnastics, and couldn't think of anything else, the kids came back and said, sort of sighing and full of resolve: "Mommy, we can have our party at the Explorium." I knew they couldn't think of anything either and thought they might as well have it there again.

But no! I would not give up. Super fun, non-bouncy, non-cheesy party we would have! Some Google browsing, some deep contemplation, and some random happenstance led me to this:


The Mad Potter! They have parties there, and all the kids get to paint pottery, which the store will fire and then the kids can pick it up later. We took the kids over there to check it out, and they loved the idea. So artsy. So creative. So quiet. Perfect!

Oh, but that's only the beginning of this story. After picking The Mad Potter, we had people to invite. The kids each picked a few friends - friends from their old day care and friends from their new school. We had a good list going and invitations were set.

I told the kids to take the invitations they had for their school friends to school and give them out. When I picked them up that afternoon, they told me their teacher said they could not hand out the invitations.

Uh, what?

Yes, that's right. Seems there is some "policy" that Fayette County Public Schools (FCPS) has about handing out party invitations. What is that policy, you may ask? Well, it's that kids can't hand out party invitations.

Ok, but seriously. After discussing it with friends on Facebook and them emailing the Principal, I found out it is has to do with the fact that the kids can't hand out invitations to just some friends. The whole class has to be invited, or it has to be handled "outside of school."

Oh wait, it gets even weirder and even more asinine. So I explained to the Principal that there was just no way I could invite 27 kids to a birthday party, and there was also no other way I could contact these kids except through the class. I don't know these kids. I don't know their parents. These are my kids' friends. How else was I supposed to let them know they were invited? The Principal was very nice about it and sent back a reply saying she would work on a possible solution the next day. Awesome, right? I even offered to hand out "friendship" cards to all the students in the class, and just those we wanted to invite would have the added message about the party. Everyone would be "included."

So when the Principal contacted me back about the matter, however, she was anything but helpful. She shot down the idea of the friendship cards, saying that it still violated the policy, and then she cited the school policy, after pointing out that it was in the Parent Handbook, and I should have gotten the Handbook, but if I didn't she could send me one.

And shall I quote the line from the policy:

Exchanging birthday party invitations is not appropriate at school as they can get lost and cause hurt feelings with other students. (emphasis mine)

I don't see how handing out friendship cards to everyone would cause hurt feelings. Explain that one to me, please. The Principal then offered to call each of the parents and ask them if they would let her give me their mailing address.

Is this not the most ridiculous thing you have heard of? Inviting all the kids in their class is the solution to avoiding hurt feelings? What? First of all, there is this thing call Life. We can't protect our kids from getting their feelings hurt. I think Damon sums it up nicely when he says, in a non-profane way:

Welcome to the world. Kids being mean to you is something that you HAVE to experience because it teaches you how to deal with mean people later in life (oh, and there will be many of them out there)... I know they want to boost everyone’s self esteem by including them, but forced inclusion is even worse. If a kid knows he is only invited because everyone is, he will still feel excluded even though he gets to eat cake and ice cream.

And, of course, not being invited to a birthday party isn't exactly even mean. What kid expects to be invited to every birthday party? I know my kids don't, and I don't think that's too far off the norm. And, let me just say, as a parent, I would not expect nor would I want my kids to be invited to 27 other birthday parties. It dilutes the whole idea of best friends and makes birthday parties less special and more of a chore.

It seems this policy, with the goal of trying to be inclusive and prevent hurt feelings, has the very effect of making the child who wants to share his/her birthday with friends be non-inclusive and leads to disappointed and hurt feelings, both on the part of the birthday child, and all his/her true friends that really wanted to go to the party. This policy is essentially telling my children: "You can't like some friends more than others. You can't have best friends. You can't do something that's important to you unless you bring along all those other people who you really don't give a crap about, and frankly, don't give a crap about you either." Awesome life lesson, FCPS! (And yes, I know you are reading this because it came through your Google Alert.)

And I know I am not the only parent who thinks this is ridiculous. And consider this, if my kids had just moved to town and started at this school , or didn't have any friends from daycare or the neighborhood, we WOULD NOT be having a party, because who the heck could we invite? Have I said yet how ridiculous this is???????

[Can I also interject a valid and most relevant comment from Damon about how ridiculous this is when at the same time we get lots of stuff sent home unsolicited that we don’t want, but we get anyway. But that’s OK because everyone gets it! So we can’t give a couple friends of theirs invitations, but we can sure get endless sales pitches for buying crap and freaking advertisements for churches. They say “we are not endorsing any of these” but anyone can send some shit like that home as long as everyone gets one. So...sending friendship cards to everyone is against policy while all these solicitations are OK? WTH?]

So where does this most ridiculous, back-asswards policy leave us? Well, I am very tempted to take the Principal up on her "offer" (which I'm sure is more of a bluff) to get me the contact information for all 27 of their classmates, and then proceed to tell each one about this policy and how stupid it is, and then still only invite the kids we originally wanted to.

But no, I will not stoop to this misguided policy and invite everyone. Instead this will be what some people call a "teachable moment" where I will explain to the kids that sometimes there are rules that are outside of your control or influence, that you have to follow, even though they are unfair, unfortunate, and counter-productive. My kids are turning 6, but they are not too young to understand what's going on. Kind of ironic, huh?

Fortunately, we have been able to put together a nice little party with the kids' out-of-school friends, but this has left a black mark on the school for me. There is one positive side to all of this, and that is the strong possibility that this won't be an issue for us next year.

Wait? Huh? What was that?

Oh, that's for another post.

Wordle

Ever wonder what gets talked about most on the blog? Come on, I know you do! Well, here's a Wordle of the most common words on the blog (as of the more recent posts). If you're not familiar with word clouds, the more frequently-occurring words are bigger. Can you guess what's been on my mind lately, although I'm not really sure why "ice" comes up a lot? Do I talk a lot about ice?


I'll have to do this again in a few months and see how it changes.

Walkabout

If this doesn't make you smile, I don't know what will...

Sooooo luxurious

It just wouldn't be a good day on the blog if I didn't relish in the minutia of my life. On that note, let's talk dishwashers!

After 6 months of washing dishes by hand for a family of five, I have a new found appreciation for the appliance they call "dishwasher." This must be how people felt when they invented washing machines or flushing toilets. Hooray for technology!

I'd easily spend an hour each time I'd wash dishes, 4-5 nights a week. And there were always so many dishes that I'd have to stop 3-4 times to dry the dishes in the dish rack to make room for more. Such a slow and arduous hour of standing on my feet and ignoring my children would produce something like this:


Let's just run down all the items here:

• 2 large pots
• 2 smaller pots (with lid)
• 17 bottles, plus nipples and bottle caps
• 6 kids' dinner plates
• 4 kids' snack plates
• 4 adult dinner plates
• 1 juice pitcher
• 9 kids' cups
• 7 adult cups
• 1 mug
• 1 water thermos
• assorted cooking utensils
• assorted silverware
• 3 soup bowls
• 1 "other" bowl
• 3 kids' bowls
• 3 cutting boards
• 1 food strainer
• numerous juice bottles
• 4 tupperware containers (and lids)

Now mind you, this was Saturday night. I had last washed all the dishes on Thursday night - so it included one full-day of dishes and 1 week-day of dishes.

Yes, yes! We get it. There are lots of dishes...

Yes, indeed. Glad you are keeping up.

So finally, the day arrived and the old dishwasher:


was removed:


and the new one put in:


It's not the fanciest dishwasher, but it gets the job done. Here's all the dishes I didn't have to wash:


I informed Damon, that with the exception of baby bottles/nipples, and a few random cooking items, if we have something (dish-wise) that can't go through the dishwasher, then it doesn't deserve to be in our house.

Now, let's just all sit back and sigh as we listen to the comforting rumble of the dishwasher as it washes everything for me.

Randomness

The Dish Ran Away With the Spoon

After approximately 6 months of not having a working dishwasher, we finally decided to bite the bullet and buy a new one. After many attempts to get it working, we figured that the electronic panel on it has malfunctioned. To replace it would be over $100 for the part, plus the cost of the install. I wasn't keen on spending $200 to repair a dishwasher that we weren't sure how old it was, but is certainly more old than new.

We had hoped to avoid this expense, but one way or another we need to go ahead with it. If one day we were to ever sell our house, it would need a working dishwasher. How silly it would be to buy one right before we moved and never get to use it. Plus, since I've been washing dishes by hand all these months, I've noticed higher water bills. I guess it's true that running a dishwasher uses less water. And then there's the countless hours I'd spend each week washing things. At one point I estimated that I spend about 8 hours a week just washing dishes! Damon's comment: "Your time is more valuable than for washing dishes." Who knew!

The only snag in this awesome plan is that fact that our kitchen cupboards and appliances are all off-white. I had to special order a bisque dishwasher since the stores do not carry them. Soon we should have our new dishwasher, and I intend, from now on, to never wash a dish by hand unless I have to.



You say 'Possum', I say 'Opussum'

Who's right anyway? What the hell do you call it? Honestly, I have never preferred one over the other, so call it what you will...

For months we have been hearing mysterious, gremlin noises under the house. Little scratchings that would sound like something was trying to climb up our vents. But with the weather being freezing, and the crawl space being creepy, we did the most logical thing any homeowner would: we ignored it.

Until the other day, Damon was outside and ran into our neighbor who informed us that he saw a possum going under our house. It all made sense now. Our ducts are not haunted like we believed they were. It was a damn opossum.

Ok, but what to do about it? A call to a local animal removal business quoted over $200. Ok...next idea! But, with this being Kentucky and all, some friends of ours had a trap they used when removing raccoons from their backyard (and caught a possum in the process). We now have the trap and will place it as soon as we dare go into that damned crawl space. Whoever the heck thought making a house with a crawl space was a good idea should be shot. Twice.



Be Mine

Does anyone else out there think kids and Valentine's Day just don't quite go together? Now, I know poo-pooing customary holidays is an Orsetti family tradition, but what I learned about Valentine's day had to do with the love between intimate partners (if you ignore that whole Saint Valentine part of it). Sure we love kids, but not in that way.

But I guess for a long time now, Valentine's Day has become a childhood tradition. I don't mind it really, but we always get the double-whammy on these things with the twins and all. I was informed by the kids' teacher that they would be doing some sort of Valentine's Day card exchange, and there are 27 kids in the class. That means I have to buy almost 60 freakin' cards! Maybe we'll just make some on the computer this year...


I'm Curious, Too

Ok, I just need to vent. Today, I want to talk about Curious George. We all grew up with the guy, but I am so annoyed with him that I just can't let myself watch the show any more. Why all the fuss? Here's why:

Everyone calls Curious George a monkey. Lesson #1: Monkeys have tails. Apes do not. So if George is a monkey, where the hell is his tail? Either give him his tail back, or call him an ape. Do you understand how hard it is to teach kids about the differences between monkeys and apes, and then you have this guy to contend with? Yeah, PBS, you are no help here.

Speaking of PBS shows, don't even get me started on why I can't stand The Cat in the Hat...

Three Stories from my Youth

Ok, I have been boycotting posting for awhile, but I guess I should post now to cheer up some family members of mine that might read the blog. I’ll do it the only way I know how: with heartrending stories of my childhood!

Note: these are all 100% true stories.

STORY 1: Poop!

I remember when I was young (possibly the kids age?), I pooped and there were like three turds sitting in the toilet. I didn’t want to flush them because I thought that they were really a dog and a cat and a kid hidden inside them. I did not want to take them out or anything, but I felt like flushing them would be wrong. I eventually did flush them though.

This story brings up many points, though. Did I REALLY think they were a dog and a cat and a baby in those poops? There is no way I really did think that, but I thought it enough to be hesitant in flushing them. But, if they really were in there, wouldn’t me not fishing them out just lead to them drowning? I can’t remember if they were floaters or not, but even floaters must have a high risk of drowning, but yet I was not concerned with that. Also, they were small pieces of crap and there is no way there is any animal or person that small, especially for a subset of a pooping bout of a little kid. They must have been the size of Little People….hmm….maybe that is why I was thinking that? Wait, that doesn’t make sense either!

But perhaps the thing that troubles me the most about that episode is that I eventually did flush them, and I didn’t really worry so much after that. Am I that cold-hearted that I would just flush down my poop-children-and-pets without mercy? Did I not ponder the genocide of the feces people and pets that must count in the hundreds of millions every day in this country alone?

STORY 2: Ice!

I went through a period of time in my teenage years where I did not want any ice in my sodas or other drinks. This wasn’t an issue in our house, because we had ice in ice cube trays and those were a pain in the ass to get out and I was always afraid I’d break them when I’d twist them to get a single freaking piece of ice out. But when I’d go over other people’s houses who had those fancy ice-making fridges, I would still decline any ice. When I would go to a fast food place, I would ask for my soda without ice (or, if it was self serve, get it without ice). I even have “ice” in my yearbook blurb under “dislikes.”

When people asked me why I didn’t like ice, I would give them a pat answer of “ice is a communist plot to take over the world.” I liked that answer because it made no freaking sense at all and was just painting with a broad “bad thing” paintbrush of communism (it was a different time back then, nowadays the equivalent would either be terrorist or Republican, but I repeat myself), though some people might have thought it was due to Siberia being cold and having lots of ice. Nope, just a silly thing to say “ice is eeeevil.”

Note, however, I did not really hate ice. It wasn’t a texture thing or a temperature thing, but instead arose from going to places that fill up your cup 2/3 of the way with ice and really screw you on any soda. Free refills were not the rule back in the day, so I would usually ask for a soda with no ice so I could maximize the amount of drink they would give me. I guess it just spilled over from there to the rest of my life, and I went with it because, for reasons unknown to anyone ever, I thought it was cool and added something to the type of person I was. Teenage boys are easily the most stupid creatures in the world.

I use ice now.

STORY 3: Mess making!

When I was like 3 or 4 I got out of my room one morning before anyone was awake and went to the fridge and started to take food out and throw it on the floor, all in one spot. I did a pretty fair amount of damage, and even got to the eggs (come on, how could any kid resist them, those are the best to throw on the floor!) and had quite a mess going. Now I forget who got up first because of what was probably a bit of commotion, but eventually all the rest of the family was around and all aghast at the mess I made. I remember my sister thought she saw a baby chick in the yolk and albumin from the cracked eggs (that actually stuck with me for absolute years making me hesitant about any egg because it might have a baby chick in it, until I got older and realized that the eggs we buy aren’t like that), and I remember ketchup being involved and perhaps I messed up a carpet (it wasn’t right in front of the fridge, but a few yards away).

I don’t think I was actually punished for it, or if I was it wasn’t anything big. I was just a 3 or 4 year old kid after all! But here is the thing: I remember doing it and I remember doing it KNOWING IT WAS BAD. I knew you weren’t supposed to do that, but I did it anyway. Totally worth it.