ut-o

Today, when picking up Marnie from school, I was pulled aside by one of her teachers. She needed to 'speak' to me. My stomach instantly dropped to my knees and a feeling that I have not felt in almost a decade crept into my being. Was I in trouble?

Apparently Marnie is having some issues regarding the bathroom. Her teacher, in an o-so teacherish tone informed me that after using the facilities, instead of finishing up in the usual manner, she instead removes her clothing and parades out into the classroom - shaking what her Mama gave her. Sadly that Mama is me. Why she is doing this, I have not a clue. Well, maybe I have some ideas, but they all make me feel worse.

I did not know I could feel this way at my age. I did not get in trouble with my teachers much as a kid, but when I did it destroyed me. I have never been one to handle criticism well. I would dwell for days on what was wrong with me. It makes me sad to think of it even now. After graduating however, I rejoiced in the fact I would never have to face that dread again. Of course the judgement was replaced instantly with that from employers and eventually other mothers... but none compared to that of a teacher. Perhaps it is so bad because they are invested in you. Perhaps it is because they try to care. Who knows, who cared really because I would never have to feel that way again.

Eff no.

After today's curb side discussion, I came to an absolutely horrifying realization. I am going to have to feel this make me wanna puke dread x 18 years x however many children I end up birthing. This is awful. Possibly enough for me to consider sterilization... for Troy. This possibility never crossed my mind and due to my ignorance I am now crawled up in a chair, my stomach in knots, wondering why my child is doing this and why I am such a sham of a mother.

Shit.

suckety suckety suck.

I was planning on sitting down this evening and telling you all about Marnie's first day of preschool and the wonderful weekend that followed. A weekend that included a lovely visit with my Dad, apple picking, a new growing area for the chicks that is not in the house, my first attempt at canning and the the building of our new chicken house.

But now I'm not going to. Why? Because I'm pissed.

This evening the local police were due to come out and run the VIN on Troy's recently purchased vehicle. We bought a 2005 Honda CRF from a Honda dealership in a nearby town ( I won't write their name yet, since I am not sure how they will handle this situation). Troy loves his bike. He lourves his bike. His dreams are filled with dirt bikety goodness.

Troy's bike is a stolen bike. They sold us a STOLEN dirt bike.

This has to be the most mortifying experience I have ever been part of. Three cop cars in our driveway for over an hour and then a huge impound truck to haul the bike away. All of our neighbors could see it take place. We look like thieving criminals.

More later. I cannot formulate thoughts properly at the moment.

theft sucks.

This morning was our first big School Shopping day and we were all pretty excited for it. We headed out early to the outlets in Michigan City where they were having a crazy sidewalk sale. It was nearly impossible to find a parking spot and we ended up about seven miles from the stores (exaggeration). Troy called during our hike back to the outlets to find out where he could meet us. He had given a meeting at work earlier that morning and was ready to join in our fun spending adventure - pretty sure he just wanted to insure that I did not blow the paycheck. We set off from kid store to kid store and could not believe the insanity. The lines for checkout at any particular retail establishment would circle the perimeter and sometimes continue out the door. We decided to choose two stores that were worth waiting in line for and then get the hell out of there. I am full of certainty that it will be a long time before I can convince Troy boy to come out shopping with us for clothing again. While standing in line at the baby Gap, I saw the cutest little rompers that I just had to have for Ethan. I motioned to Troy to come and take my place so that I could go and find his size. Apparently the four (not together) women who were behind me in line did not see our switcheroo and started to yell at him. What do you think you are doing? Who the hell do you think you are? No mind to the fact that the poor man is standing there with a baby in a stroller and a pint sized Marnie. After explaining to the angry shoppers that he had merely taken my place in line and no he had not 'cut', one of the women said 'Well, you can obviously see what lead me to my thinking'. Yes, of course. No apology is necessary then. Crazy 'ol bat. Troy made me leave then. We went and had a nice lunch that involved Ethan trying to climb onto the table and throw chicken wing bones at our heads. There was even time afterwards to head home so that Troy could change his shirt before work (he is the messiest of the three kiddies). I drove him back to where his car was parked. It was like shit-cream frosting on a poopy cake. One of the windows had been smashed in. Troy's two month old black MacBook was gone. Gone. Stolen. Now, after a couple hours to calm down, I am still uncertain as to why they broke into the truck. It really is a pile of junk. Last year we blew out a tire and still have the rusty hubcapped replacement on there. If you look in the driver's window, you will surely notice that the middle console is completely missing and that there are five dollar seat covers (not in good shape) hiding the cigarette burned seats from the previous owners. We had thought about selling this truck a couple of months back, but decided not to waste our money on advertisement for we were relatively sure that no one would want it. The only reason Troy was even driving it is because his Saturn is not running. I am giving you all a stellar impression of our choice in automobiles I know. Who could possibly have thought that there was something worth stealing in there? How did they know there was and $1800 laptop hidden under the seat? I am certain (and when I say certain, I mean not at all certain) that it has to be someone Troy works with. He had given a meeting using his computer earlier that morning and then went off to meet us. And how does such a thing happen in the middle of the day? Due to the crapiness of the car, we only had the minimum coverage on the car. Insurance won't even pay for the window let alone the computer. We are screwed unless they happen to find the person who stole it. And I am sure that never happens.