but first. . .
I got a phone call last night from a 15 yo female.
She called to let me know that at youth group last week, Drew had been “walloped” on by this little kid half his size.
Now, what’s terribly interesting is that the H family kids had told me the same story a couple of days ago. And Jay had heard about it from Tyler. . .
Drew didn’t tell us anything till I talked to him about it.
He says they were playing a ball game and he had grabbed the ball and the kid was trying to get it from him and just pushed him against the wall. Drew says he was not hurt and nothing else happened. He is completely befuddled as to why everyone else thinks its a big deal.
Anyway, the girl, just wanted to let me know, and said she hoped that the whole incident wouldn’t prevent Drew from coming back.
The problem is, Drew said the youth group was rather boring, as there was no organization to it and there’s a lot of time to stand around doing “nothing but talking”.
The poor girl! The phone call went something like this:
“Miss Christine, this is *****. I wanted to. . .” and from there she spoke at the speed of light.
And it dawned on me that she was “scared” because she was talking to an “old person” and parent. . .
Of course, you don’t realize it, but we just had a break for breakfast (cinnamon french toast sticks).
It’s now 0730
So, I’ve given it a lot of thought (it helped that I spent an inordinate amount of time the previous 3 days looking for books that should be readily available).
I am declaring the next four days “Operation Clean Slate”.
Not that I”m going to actually completely “erase my slate”, but I’m hoping to “clean it up”.
I think of my “slate” as currently looking similar to someone taking some complicated seminar on the inner workings of the brain (neuron pathways, etc) and all they thought to bring was a pen and a 3×5 card for notes.
not a pretty sight, I can tell you (and certainly proving the person a non-brainiac)
My school room is a catastrophe zone. My dining room spilleth over (and sadly not with yummy food — rather with paperwork). My living room is a battlefield of tinkertoys and lincoln logs.
The little guys room has a pathway from the door to the beds; anywhere else is a virtual minefield of legos and other small toys (meant, I’m sure, to rip open the soles of your feet).
I still have a number of schedules “hanging over me” that NEED to get done. I need to prioritize them, and do them.
Finances need to be done. . .and so many other things that I can’t even think of at the moment.
So, we shall see how it goes. I’ve given myself 4 days.
We’ll see if I can survive today.