Super Hero Institute of Technology

Rain blows.

Poor Toby spends her time waddling over to the front hall where the coats hang pleading, Apple Jacket! Outside! Hat on! It is especially crappy for making pottery. I move ware all around my studio in hopes of drying it faster, and I inevitably break a bunch of it. I put cup handles on too soon, and they all warp. During all of this I have to listen to too many traffic reports on NPR.

Making and breaking bad pottery was the middle of my day. Tim and I had to start the day confronting our nanny with a time-maintenance/being present discussion stemming from Toby's fall down the outside metal stairs. Julie (sanannyty) was running late the previous day and put Steel in the car first (probably because she was being the biggest pain in the ass) thinking that Toby would stay on the stairs with her brother. We all admitted to dropping the ball when it's 3 on 1. It gets hectic. Tuesday morning I asked Jack Peter to get dressed for school. He told me that he hated everyone in our family except for Toby and Steel and that he was going to dig up all of my tulips. I responded while I jammed a shirt over his head that if he touched my tulips I was going to throw away all of his toys and his markers. Toby could have been climbing onto a ceiling fan from the top of a bar stool at that moment, and I'd have had no idea.

The crappy day continued when Jack Peter did not get picked in the lottery for the Spanish Immersion Charter School we were hoping for. We can re-apply for first grade, but it will be more difficult for him. I was sad about that. I love that school. Julie sent me a text with the above picture saying that he might still get a place at the Super-Hero-Institute of Technology. (S.H.I.T)

That helped. As did filling out an application for the Performing Arts Charter School which is rumored to have a good French Program. I mentioned Jack Peter's unparalleled mimicry of Spanish-speaking Buzz Light Year. I also boasted about his annual tabletop performance at the McDonald family Thanksgiving dinner. This is the school that requires a list of 13 items to apply to the lottery. You're not allowed to visit until you've been accepted, so you're getting all of this crap together not knowing whether or not you like the place. I'm going to pop the results from my last Pap Smear into the envelope too. I hope they have a sense of humor.

I can't really bitch about my day. I got rock star parking both picking up and dropping off the kids at school; I got to hear my first Lady Gaga song on the way, and I didn't spill coffee in my lap. I didn't have to bribe Steel with lipstick to stop crying and let me leave her at school, and when I picked them up it was my favorite: dress up, dance to 70's music, and talk on pretend cell phone time. I got to drink wine and eat a yummy dinner at Heather's with her friend, Fiona, who also has 3 kids 5 and under. There were 9 kids, and none of my kids cried or hit anyone, and they all ate their vegetables. The girls spent the play date dressing up and cleaning the bathroom with cloth wipes and then throwing them into the toilet, so Rene's day ended with a plunger, but mine is ending with the happy discovery that Tim remembered trash day is tomorrow.