Turkey Time!

It’s that time again.. the best holiday where you don’t have to buy a present.  Except for a hostess present maybe.  I want to replay my take on Thanksgiving I did with Cafe Mom from when I still had a green front door ( it’s now red).

 

I do love this video.  It’s full of real good advice.  Some of which I have not followed this year.  I haven’t made ONE thing yet.  My table was not set days ahead.

I’m not going to go into it.. just can’t yet, but I’ve had a big loss and I’m still sorting it out.  I can’t comment till it’s been more digested.  Mark and my kids and fine and I wish you a happy holiday with your family and friends.

 

xo

potluck ransom

I love pot lucks.  I like hosting pot lucks. However,  rules must be observed.  Put your name on your stuff.  I can’t run everyone down

” did you leave the powder blue bowl?  The Winnie the pooh platter?  The silver pan?  Were you even here?”

I’m fine with hosting class parties.  I like to.  If not we end up in some gross LA city park with porta potties and bums sleeping next to the kids while they play capture the flag.  I don’t mind the set up, clean up.  We have a big backyard.  I just want people to take their shit with them when they leave.  The one night stand is over, get your crap and get out.  You never wanted to hear from that dude at the club you bedded after a few too many did you?  No, I don’t even remember his name.  But, he kept calling me “lips.”

After grilling our room teachers with the rules before our class party what happens?  One room parent has been emailing me about her serving spoon.  More than once.  I would have prefered if she had just shown up at my door and said “do you mind if I rifle through your kitchen and see if I can find over grown spork?”

She is a nice person, so I finally did hunt around for it after the last email.  I thought I would add a little drama into this potluck tension.  I sent her the following:

“Today’s newspaper let’s you know your spoon is alive as of today.  But, if you don’t follow my instructions it is in danger.”

potluck ransomeI should have told her that she needed to drop of a entrée that would feed ten if she ever wanted to see her spoon again.  No vegi platter.  No one ever eats the raw cauliflower.

But, instead this morning I handed to the other room parent and said, “your girl wants me to put this in her kid’s cubby.  I’m not even sure who her kid is let alone run her cubby.”

She got it.  “She didn’t put her name on it like you asked?  I’ll take care of it.”  Later I saw her leaving a message on her cell phone, “Hey, I’ve got your crummy spoon what do you want me to do with it?”

It’s still better we hosted.  If you leave something in the park, would it be there if you went back? Would you still want it?

 

volunteering for school lunch

When I did this video about volunteering to serve lunch at Vivien’s school I was treated very differently.

 

I thought it signaled the start of my children’s disinterest in me and concentration on their friends.  But, now that Rex is in kindergarten I’m trying it again.  This time I’m getting the love that had eluded me.  Between putting on the plastic gloves, tying up my hair and running to replenish the pizza and orange slices Rex will appear for a moment  “Hi, Mommy!” Give me a hug and run off.  Then between asking kids if they want two helpings of vegetables or one of vegis and one of fruit,  there is a lull where I gaze lovingly at he and his new buddies playing on the grass.

On the 3rd hour of this shift as I sweep the debris left under the tables, Rex long ago back in his class, I think.  Don’t I see this kid every night?  There must be an easier way to see him.