speaking of homework...

Ok, so Justin tells me that they marked him absent this morning because he was just a little late "or something stupid like that." I asked him to define "a little late" and he says less than 20 minutes. Or well, probably less than 15 minutes. Bagh! I reminded him that I let him skip seminary this morning because he was up late doing homework but clearly that won't happen again since he can't get his butt to school on time. AND, this was late start day which means school doesn't even start until 8:45 and he was up at 7 so there's no reason to have been late. I told him to leave the house by 8 and he'd be fine. It must have been one of those 'mom's stupid and doesn't know what she's talking about' moments when he decided he didn't have to leave that early... Then he says, "Oh mom, in American Gov (keep in mind this is his honors class) I haven't done any of the homework or taken notes in class and I still got a 90% on the test." At this point my mind goes off in a couple different directions - one side is saying 'great!' for the test part because he's had a hard time and been really worried about the test. The other part of my mind is saying 'holy crap! and you wonder why you have an F in the class!?' I of course take the very undiplomatic and unsupportive route and say "I suppose you want me to be happy but you just admitted you haven't done any of your homework..." As soon as I say it I'm already regretting it. He cuts in and says of course I'm not happy he knew I wouldn't be. Oh drat! I swear I can't seem to get this right! And quite often I feel like I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. I just don't understand why he can't see what I see, simply that if he can do that well on a test in his honors class without trying very hard then he can do really well if he actually put some work into it and stopped whining!!! Aagghh! I'm screaming silently in my head so as not to alarm anyone but really! I wonder if all teenagers are this much work or if mine is just a pain in the butt? (Ok, I'm pretty sure I know the answer but I would still like to wonder because maybe it'll make me feel better somehow...)

Perhaps I can ask the gaggle of jr high girls that I walk past every afternoon to explain their pov to me. Nah, that wouldn't help either.

impersonating a teenager

Sometimes I feel like I'm trying to impersonate a teenager. This is especially true when I'm walking to the bus stop with my hoodie and my backpack and I'm rockin' my pod (this little phrase came from the salesman helping us spend a lot - oh, I mean - get a sweet set up for Justin to ride this winter on the slopes dude!) I also have the luxury of that rosy glow, usually reserved for teenagers, upon my face - but don't worry the old lady bags under my eyes, that grow bigger and darker every day, offset the acne so that instead of a sad sort of 'youthful' I just look a mess...

I also used to be a morning person but I've reverted back to being a night person. Not so much because I like staying up late as that I'm up late doing homework and get up waaay too early. I hate getting up. Can someone please find more Saturdays for me? And how about more LDS kids so they can do release time seminary again... Okay, okay, I'll stop whining.

Lest there be any confusion, Justin DOES NOT think I look like a teenager - I'm still his same ol' frumpy mom!

Squeaky Voices

Is it wrong to laugh, usually under my breath, when I hear Justin and his friend getting all into their video game saying things like "Dude!" or "What're you doing!?" with a nice squeak in the middle of each syllable? Or sometimes the squeak is at the end of the word. Sometimes you can't hear it but others it's so obvious it just makes me laugh. Just now it was a whole series of "Dude!"s and every one of them was squeaky. I of course, being the considerate mother that I am, leave the room before I laugh or I hold it in and try to keep the smile on my face to a minimum whenever I'm close by but really, it makes me giggle.

teachers

Justin has a great teacher for Business Fundamentals this year. (Listen for the sarcasm dripping from every syllable!) His name is Mr. Beerman, which is apparently very appropriate. He's spent the last week and a half telling the kids what he's going to teach them, which includes very little in the book because you know, that's just not how real life is. Instead he's going to teach them how to play the stock market and invest because the best thing ever is to get money and not have to do anything. That's only one of the unrealistic dreams he's going to fill their heads with this semester. Don't get me wrong, I know there are tons of people who do quite well in the market and it's not at all a bad thing if done right, the problem is you might want to inject some realistic expectations, hard work, ethics, etc. in these little lessons - you know, the boring stuff that's also part of life.

But, don't worry, it gets better! He's also spent plenty of time telling stories about beer and how cool it is. He even told them how to get out of a DUI. THESE ARE KIDS!!!!!!!! What the heck is WRONG with him??? Not to mention that it is illegal, unethical, morally wrong and stupid to drive drunk and then worse to play games to get out of it! Then he follows up these conversations with "now, you don't need to tell your parents I told you this. This is just between us." Ok buddy, if you have to tell the kids that you know darn well you're in the wrong! Justin didn't want me to say anything because that would be embarrassing, etc. so I was in the difficult place that we parents find ourselves in from time to time. What's more important? Talking to the school about the idiot that's teaching there or protecting Justin from being ridiculed and such from kids who will think he is nooot cool for telling? Seriously both a big deal. My mom-senses were tingling and I just couldn't not pass this little tidbit along to the school so I made an annonymous call and told the assistant principal the problem. He was glad to hear it and I hope that it'll die out without Mr. Beerman making stupid comments to the kids about someone telling on him. Justin doesn't know I called so he shouldn't feel to red in the face if it comes up in class.

I'm telling you, I do not understand how some people have their jobs! Well, I do, and it's called the blasted union, but that's another story for another day...

The Bus

The new and interesting experience this semester is the bus. You know how it's so annoying to ride behind a bus and they just push their way into your lane, etc.? Well, it's also scary to ride ON the bus when they do that. Especially if they're late. 'Everyone hold on to your butts because we're going to pretend we're in a race car!' Woo hoo! I now make sure I always sit in a seat with a rail that I can hold onto.

Justin...
I told Justin that he has two choices to get home from school this year. 1. The bus I ride home goes right by Columbine and has a stop there and he can hop on and ride with me. This was met with bulging eyes, barfing noises, choking, sputtering and a big "ARE YOU SERIOUS!?" I told him that option 2 is to walk. I'm fine with either. He'd rather walk. Ok, sounds good to me. So, of course for the first two days of school he walked all the way (3 blocks) to his friend Trevor's house and stayed there until I picked him up because it was pouring rain by the time he had to come home. I reminded him this morning that walking home means all the way to our home and I'm not picking him up at Trevor's any more. Now's the real test - will he listen? Highly unlikely.

There are so many strange people that ride the bus...
The first two days at the bus stop there was a guy who just unloaded on me about how upset he was with his wife and all their problems (this was after he had been standing at the car yelling at her 10 feet away from me - you know, he felt he had to explain why he was making a scene. Thanks, I'd rather not know...) and I just didn't know what to say. I thought about making sure I have my ipod in and playing before I get to the stop but then I thought perhaps that would be rude since I listened to him for the previous two days so I didn't put the pod on. I was gearing up for it again the last two days but he wasn't there. Perhaps he took the earlier bus. Ok by me.

Then there was a lady whol got on the light rail and sat across from me yesterday. She apparently said something to me and I didn't hear because she started waving her hand in front of my face and, in an annoyed voice, said, "Helll-ooo!" Um, yeah? (continuing in annoyed voice) "Where'd you get your shoes?" "Payless" So I went back to my pod but I wanted to let her know that if I have my headphones on and I'm playing with the pod, clearly I'm not available and don't want to have a conversation. And I was looking down. All signs of one in their own world, not wanting to be disturbed. Then I realized that the stench of liquor I was smelling was coming from her. She was totally drunk at 1:45 in the afternoon. Clearly I was expecting too much of her when I thought she could read the unspoken signs that say 'leave me alone.'

And all that was in the first week - I can hardly wait to see what the rest of the year brings.

This is Crazy

Ok, here goes. I hate thinking of names for things like this so I decided to just call it Crazy Wild. I mean when you have a name like that, (thanks in part to my parents and in part to my friends), what more do I need? and we can conclude that Justin is the best son ever made.... (Hmm, can you guess who's reading over my shoulder and contributing?) In fact, he is just the best, he erupted with laughter when he saw the name and said, "what exactly do you tell your friends to make them think you're crazy? 'Yeah, I was up all night partying last night!' when really you were (snort while pushing glasses up on the nose) studying the holocaust and Yiddish things." Oh sigh. And this on a day he's not even mad at me.

But, alas, true to the nerd in me, my homework is calling so I've gotta run.