Today, I guarded a 7th grader’s Pokemon cards, so he could go to the restroom. It was so refreshing to see a middle schooler that is more worried about Pokemon than the grown up stuff they tend to be into and have no business doing. Kids grow up too fast. It made me smile to be the Pokemon guard. I should add that to my job title.
Kristie Barnett, EDS
Library Media Specialist
Keeper of the Books , Guardian of Pokemon, and Chaos Coordinator
Earlier today, I saw a meme that had a quote about success. It said that Success is not owned . It is rented. The rent is due every day. It struck me. Truth time!. I am accustomed to reading success quotes about dreams and drive. It is refreshing to see a quote that says it is work and it is constant work. Anything you do , to succeed takes work. If you do the same thing tomorrow, you still have to work at it. If you stop trying, you stop succeeding. This also reminded me of an idiom. The idiom goes the devil is in the details. My interpretation is that you have to work on the details and look at the fine print.
If you combine those two, through paying attention to the details and working hard, one can be successful at a task. Does that mean that we are all going to be rich and famous? Heck, no. It means if you set out to cook a cake or write a blog or do another task with attention to details and hard work you are more likely to be successful. Sometimes education or training are part of that hard work and detailed attention.
I have run across some pettiness and jealousy about some accomplishments that I have obtained. Many or all might seem minor to most, but they are mine . I worked for them. The world does not hand me things. It does hand anyone things. On pondering these incidents that I have tried to let them be water off a duck’s back, details and work play over and over in my mind. Don’t be hating someone was able to rent a moment of success. Use your time more wisely and rent you some of your own success with hard work and attention to details. As for me, I got shit to do. I have rent to work for. Just DO it!
Every morning, I drive the hobbit to school before proceeding to work. It is a brief drive. The hobbit is full of quirky 9 year old boy advice, questions, and observations. This is the norm. However, morning drive time usually puts him in full on Logieism mode. After the put your shoes on, comb your hair, and brush your teeth battle is over, the hobbit is fully awake and in conversation mode. The conversations range. Some days he complains about my music. Often he tries to invent reasons that school should be cancelled like it is foggy, it is raining, and he is tired. This week he has been in super Logie mode.
Hobbit: Why does school exist?
Me: So you can learn.
Hobbit: School is stupid. I don’t want to go.
Me: I don’t either.
Hobbit: It is raining. Why do we not have late arrival?
Me: It is just rain.
Hobbit: Did you check to see if we have late arrival?
Me: I did.
Hobbit: Double check.
Me : I did
Hobbit: Triple check.
Me: You have to go to school and at the correct time.
Hobbit: Okay, Love you. See you this afternoon.
Hobbit: Do you melt when you get water on you?
Me: Ummm, I am not the Wicked Witch.
Hobbit: You are a witch – right?
Me: Have you been talking to one of my students? I am not a witch. I wish I was magic. All witches don’t melt. It depends on the story or legend.
Hobbit: Yes, they do.
Hobbit: The ones in Oz do.
Me: The Wicked Witch of the West melted. I don’t know if the others melt.
Hobbit: What about the one of the East?
Me: Dorothy dropped a house on her so we don’t know.
Hobbit: What about the witches of the North and the South?
Me: The Witch of the North and South are not wicked. Well, it depends on which version, but not in the original version.
Me : The author wrote it that way. Some witches are good and some are wicked.
Hobbit: Research that for me. Love you. Bye.
Hobbit: loud and smelly fart that he has held until we are in the car.
Me: Did you really just fart on me?
Hobbit while smiling: It was not on you. It was behind you.
Me: It was a rhetorical question Mr. Literal. I will rephrase. Did you just fart?
Hobbit with a giggle and a smile: Yep. It was a good one.
Boys! Everyone needs at least one or two.
Rather recently, a canine came to live with us. It has been several years since there has been that species of four legged baby at our house. We are the crazy cat family. We have five- yes, I said five- cats. Not on purpose mind you. Animals just sort of happen to us. I am fairly sure there is an animal hobo mark on my house. Only one of the now 6 animals that I feed did I go out and get on purpose. The others were apparently fate.
Several years ago, I had to put down my Molly dog. She was 15. Molly chose me. I did not go out to get her either. We loved her for years. After Molly went over the rainbow bridge, I have said I was not emotionally ready for another dog. Also, I am not a dog person.
When approached by my children’s father over the last year about taking in his stepson’s dog, Miya. I resisted. I was a Molly person not a dog person. Also, five cats are a lot. Some of the time, I was pretty sure he was joking about sending her to my house. My wife- in- law and all the boys obviously loved her.
Recently, he approached me again. This time the dog’s human is enlisting and can’t keep her. My baby daddy and my wife in law already have a huge dog and are taking in another. Miya needed a new home. My mother-in-law took her for a couple of weeks. Miya is a city dog. She did not do well in the country. Apparently, chickens are fun to chase. Unfortunately, that will also get doggos shot at.
Miya was relocated to my fenced in yard. When I told my mother, she replied, “ I knew you would end up with that dog.” My response, “ Animals just happen to me.”
Miya is a Great Pyranese/ Dalmation. That looks about like you imagine. She looks like a giant spotted rug or a small Wookie. She really wants to be friends with the cats. The cats are not so sure yet. The cats are kind of bullies. They boss the 90lb dog around often.
Miya dances when she is excited. Her excitement usually involves table scraps or treats. I understand being that excited over food.
I did not want a dog. Dogs happen to me like cats happen to me. I still won’t admit I am a dog person, but I am a Miya person. She had me at the big brown eyes and the happy dance. I probably dance like that when someone offers me a donut.
Life happens and I write about it.
As I sit here in my cat leggings left over from Halloween that are now pjs and my VW bus shirt that is big enough to cover two people and has long since seen better days with homeless morning hair and a cup of coffee, I am reflecting on the past year. It is the last day of 2019. I am fairly sure I spent the last New Year’s Eve in my pjs at 10 am with homeless hair drinking coffee. I probably spent the one before that the same way. The cat leggings are new. That is about it. My Christmas breaks stay the same more of less.
2019 In Review
The Hobbit has grown. The tall one is more man like. The hubs and I celebrated our one year anniversary. The stepkids have grown. The house has not grown. We are packed in here like sardines.
I started blogging again.
My first book was published in the fall. It only took 20 years to write. Maybe book 2 will be faster.
I stopped teaching at GSCC in the fall. I started an Etsy shop. I have craft ADHD, so I paint glass, etch glass, etch and paint wine bottles and Bailey’s Irish Cream bottles. That is what I drink, so that is the glass I have. I sometimes paint beer bottles and Starbucks Cold Brew bottles from the hubs. I HATE removing the labels. The hubs does that. I can paint and etch all day, but labels are ick. I burn and paint wood that the hubs has sanded and shaped. I do not and should not ever use power tools. I paint on canvas. The hubs is trying to talk me into cutting glass. That might be in the category that Kristie is too clumsy to do. My biggest sellers are painted mugs with smart ass sayings on them. Who knew? I am making a profit off my nerdy likes and smart mouth. I have Lord of the RIngs, Harry Potter, and Dr. Who fandom mugs. They are my biggest sellers. Nerds UNITE!!!! If you would like to donate to the hobbit and tall one’s college funds, my shop is bookishnomadshop.com and my book is available on amazon.
Five kids ain’t cheap.
Hopefully, I have not offended anyone with my blog post this time. My writing is my view of the world. It is meant to be funny. If you are not included, no worries. I will get around to poking fun at you soon. If you do not like my view of certain events, I guess we view the world differently. If you take offense that I do not view the world as you do, maybe my writing is not for you. Life happens, and then I write about it.
“ If we all couldn’t laugh, we’d all go insane.”
One of the modern day great philosophers.
This morning while waiting behind one of the big yellow cheese wagons, my mind began to wander.Let’s be honest, it doesn’t take much for my mind to wander. I am fairly sure it was an elementary bus. I sat there what seemed like forever. Do the poor underpaid bus drivers’ have to wait long enough for the child to get out of bed, get dressed , and eat breakfast before loading. That is what it feels like. Is the wait time for the kid that is nowhere in sight up to the bus driver? Is there a standard time? Is there an equation based on age? Things to ponder…
As an observer, I have noticed it takes the little people bus longer than the big kids. What is the age cut off that we decide is the point where they child is responsible for getting to the bus on time or can be left behind?
While I sat there waiting on a little to eat breakfast and get dressed before boarding the stopped bus, I thought about times passed where my oldest child ( who runs on his own time zone) was left behind by the bus. There must be an age limit. By the time they reach middle school and high school, they have 2.5 seconds to load the bus. Who decided teenagers are responsible? Have they met one? I guess the little ones are cuter and smell better. That is why we wait. It may simply be because parents of teenagers blame the teenager not the bus driver. Maybe it is to keep the teenage funk smell down on the bus?
I know people that claim that they love to cook. I guess everyone is allowed their own weird kinks. Those people claim to make things like pasta from scratch.
The conversation usually goes like this:
Weird Person: I Love to cook.
Me: It is a necessary evil.
Weird Person: Oh, I pride myself on cooking complicated dishes. I love it. I just hate to clean up.
Me: I cook because DHR frowns upon not feeding your children.
Weird Person looks confused. They look confused because I am female and Southern. I am supposed to love to cook and make a house for my family or at least to pretend to. As a Southern lady, I am supposed to pride myself on making a home and making good biscuits. My biscuits come out of the freezer or a can when I actually cook them at all. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family. I clean because I don’t like filth and am a bit OCD. I cook so they don’t starve. I also don’t give two shits what people think of my womanly home making skills. I have four college degrees, am successful in my field, and all my children and stepchildren are doing okay. They all know how to use the toaster and microwave. Biscuits do not define my worth.