Day in the Life: October 2007 Archives

Yesterday marked a major milestone on The Boy's path to dental adulthood - he lost his first tooth.  Actually, I kind of yanked it out of his mouth while we were sitting in the car waiting for Hublet to negotiate with the auto repair guy, but whatever. 

I was all excited, because I had been waiting over 6 years to use the super-cute tooth pillow that I received at a baby shower prior to The Boy's birth. I had shown him the pillow, complete with the little pocket, when he first discovered that his tooth was loose. This had disappointed my mother, who had somehow procured an even cuter and more elaborate tooth pillow, when I informed her that we had the tooth pillow issue handled, thanks.  Yes, there was tooth pillow drama. I know.

So naturally, when it actually fell out, The Boy decided not to use the super-cute tooth pillow in favor of a zip-loc plastic snack bag.

Which is probably just as well, since I seem to have lost the tooth pillow.

I'm just not cut out for Martha Stewart living.

So yesterday was picture day at The Boy's school.  Desperate not to repeat last year's mistake, I was planning on sending The Boy to school in a short-sleeved polo shirt and khaki shorts. That way he'd be both presentable in the photo and comfortable on the playground, since Fall has determined that it's just gonna skip N.C. this year.

But alas, I was not planning on The Boy being self-determining.  Upon reflection, I realize that I must not have been paying attention.  After all, this is the same child who only wore orange socks for his entire third year of life on this planet, and the child who wore either a Power Rangers sweatsuit or a Tow-Mater shirt for six straight months. In addition, he is very free with his opinions about what our family members are wearing, memorably informing my mother at the beach, "Wow, Grandmommy! You look almost good!" So yeah, The Boy has definite sartorial preferences, and this past Saturday he took a moment away from his Toon Town time to announce:

"I want a red shirt and a red-and-black-checkered tie to wear for my picture."

Oooookaaaay. Since I had errands to run anyway, and since I am SICK TO DEATH OF ALL THE WARM-WEATHER CLOTHES I OWN (see absence of Fall, above), I determined that a quick stop by Kohls might be the answer.

And bless you, Arrow shirt company, with your pre-packaged shirt/tie combos that help me avoid arguing about putting a blue and red tie with a black shirt. The Boy selected a red shirt with a red and black striped tie, some black pants (with adjustable waist, Hallelujiah!), and helped me pick out 4 new shirts and a dress.  We were officially ready for Picture Day.

Being a realist, I felt it necessary to prepare The Boy for the fact that he would likely be the only boy in a tie in his entire elementary school, so we armed him with the appropriate response to teasing, as well as a change of clothes for the playground, because it was going to be about 84 degrees that day, and a long-sleeved shirt, tie, and long black pants would be miserable.

Picture Day morning The Boy was in a very good mood, beaming when I told him how handsome he looked, and checking his hair in the mirror. When he got out of the car at the dropoff, the teacher helping out complimented him as well, and he looked pleased and a bit embarrassed.

Turns out all my worrying about teasing was for naught. Although The Boy was the only one in a tie, his  friend/nemesis was very impressed with his look, as were his classmates. I just hope he isn't pulling a Calvin face in the picture.

And I'm already planning the "You want those clothes, you get a job at the store and an employee discount and knock yourself out" speech. I have a feeling I'll be needing it.

Okay, at the risk of doing some totally inappropriate girly gushing, I've gotta say thanks to all of you super-awesome folks who have volunteered to send a postcard.  It's really cool getting emails from readers from places I've never been, or only visited once in passing...yay!  Plus, since most folks read w/out commenting, it's nice to know that there's actual reading taking place.  So again, yay!

But that's not the only reason why it's like Christmas on Thursday in October.  Oh, no.  You see, today I picked up a copy of the Chronicle of Higher Ed, and guess what was on page B4 in the Review section?

A David Horowitz article slamming the AAUP.  For those of you who may have just fallen off a turnip truck, publishing Horowitz in the Chronicle criticizing the AAUP is kind of like tossing a hunk of pure sodium into a bucket of water.  Wheeee!  I'll be keeping a watch on the discussion boards over there just for my own amusement.

On a related note, another academic has published an op-ed in Inside Higher Ed arguing against professors inserting personal political viewpoints (or really much personal info at all) into the classroom.  In reading several such articles over the past weeks, and in the comments section to this one, I've come across more than one commenter quoting Kurt Vonnegut:

" I argued that it was a teacher's duty to speak frankly to students of college age about all sorts of concerns of humankind, not just the subject of a course as stated in the catalogue. "That's how we gain their trust, and encourage them to speak up...."- Kurt Vonnegut

and using it to argue equivalence between "offering information about all the different viewpoints on a particular subject" and "me, me, me, glorious me, fabulous me, here's what I think, me, me, me, let's have a rap session, man, because students totally can't learn unless a viewpoint is embodied."

I don't know if Vonnegut intended that quote as encouragement for those professors with egotistical leanings toward the cult of personality (cough, WARD CHURCHILL, cough), who feel the urge to cover students with wild-eyed rants about the fabulousness of themselves and their opinions, but in my experience the kinds of folks who sling Vonnegut quotes around to justify their harangues are also pretty overdeveloped in the self-esteem department.

I don't think you can draw any large conclusion about the "all me, all the time" culture of the 60's and 70's and the subsequent development of this mindset, but it is interesting.  Plus it gives me another excuse to blame the baby boomers for every evil thing that's ever happened, ever, so it's a win-win for me.

While getting worked up into a froth in the post below -  

HAT WATCH, DAY - umm.  I forget:

Purple and Black Spider.  The legs extend in a nimbus that reaches a good 2 feet from her head.  Where is she getting these things?

And thanks to all of you who've responded to my postcard plea below.  I'm still taking volunteers...Anyone got any friends in Alaska?

Oh, and something I just thought of while perusing this post and its associated links:

You can rest assured that no matter how much of an ass I may think you are, I will never publish your personal information (complete with satellite imagery) online, either with or without veiled and threatening commentary, due to your political views or actions. And that's a Big Arm Woman guarantee! Granted, it's a guarantee I would have assumed most folks wouldn't have to make, because it's way beyond the pale, but you know what they say about "assume."  Jesus. What is WRONG with people?

Ah, fall.  95 degrees, hot as all hell, and apparently the drought has had zero effect on the plants that cause my sinuses to go nuts.  Huzzah.

I have a couple of goodly rants building, but I may wait until I'm no longer on legal meth to write them, as Sudafed has the tendency to make my reasoning somewhat, erm, jumpy.

In the meantime, a shameless plea for help - The Boy's 1st grade class is doing the "Get Postcards from all 50 States" thing, and I don't have many contacts outside of NC.  So I thought I'd post the address and ask any kind souls who may be so inclined (and who live outside of North Carolina) if they may consider sending a postcard from their native state. 

Since we live in the era of porn and goofiness, I'm not going to post the address here - just email me if you'd like to help at bigarm at bigarmwoman dot com and I'll email you the addy.

So I took Friday off in an attempt to recover from Monday through Thursday, and it just didn't work out the way I had anticipated.  Then I spent all day Saturday and Sunday driving to Raleigh and back twice and doing assorted things, so the house is a wreck, I am exhausted, and there's a t-ball game tonight. 

Plus, I have somehow managed to spill part of my tall, skim, light whip mocha from Starbucks down my cleavage.  Didn't get a drop on my sweater, but my underpinnings now carry the aroma of cocoa.  Good God.

And drop-off lady was sporting a gigantic stuffed pumpkin on her noggin this morning.

I know it's only Monday, but can I have a do-over for this week?