School Snafus

School started this week for all three kids.

They all handled the first day really well, despite two of them being at new schools.  There were only a few tears.  (And those were all mine.)

The year has gotten off to a good start, but of course, things can't always go perfectly.

For instance, Liam brought home a nasty stomach bug and missed yesterday and will miss today, too.  So there goes his perfect attendance a mere two days into the school year.

And Syd's bus forgot to pick her up this morning.  As I was driving home from dropping Evan off at his school, I saw her bus sitting at an intersection near the exit of our neighborhood with the bus driver shuffling through a stack of papers and looking confused.  I thought she'd already picked up Syd and was on her way out of the neighborhood to continue her route, but as I pulled on to our street, I saw Syd still sitting at the bus stop reading a book.

The operator at the transportation department told me that she thought the driver arrived at Syd's stop too early and she would ensure that the driver wouldn't get there too early next time.

Syd was at the stop a good ten minutes before her scheduled pick up time, so, yeah, I don't think that's the reason.

The bus completely skipped our street.

Thankfully, Ryan had the time to drop her at school before heading into work so that I could stay home with poor Liam who can't be more than ten feet from the bathroom.

Thank goodness we were home, otherwise she'd still be outside getting eaten up by mosquitos.

But it made me wonder: what happens to the kids in a similar situation whose parents aren't home?

And this isn't necessarily school-related but it was still an interruption to what was a fairly good first week of school.  I got a frantic phone call from our sweet neighbor on the left yesterday evening telling me to keep the kids in the house.   I'd heard some yelling coming from the direction of the house on the other side of us, but as they're always making a bunch of noise playing basketball, I didn't really give it much pause.  Apparently, our lovely (please note the sarcasm) neighbors to the right of us got into enough of a dispute with one another that the police were called out.  We had four police cars parked right in front of our house for a good hour last evening as they attempted to quiet the situation and fill out paperwork.

Nice.

And they wonder why I won't let our kids play with theirs anymore.

Well, That's Just Great

We found out yesterday which teachers the boys will have this coming school year.

I don't know anything about Liam's first grade teacher and I can't find anyone who does.

Great.

As for Evan's kindergarten teacher?  It's the same teacher Liam had last year for kindergarten.  I'm guessing she requested Evan after she found out during the kindergarten entrance tests that he could read.

Sigh.

The one advantage to this is that Evan already knows her and is comfortable with her making his transition to "big kid school" a bit easier.

But.....seriously?!?

Disturbing Phone Call

Nothing can compare to the horrible phone call I got a year and a half ago.  It's the kind of phone call I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.  Ever since the incident that prompted that phone call, Ryan has worn a medical ID bracelet with my cell phone number in case of another emergency.

Thankfully, he has been seizure-free since then and I haven't received another dreaded call.  However, every time my cell phone rings and it's a number I don't recognize, my stomach clenches up a bit and I answer it because I know that it could be another Good Samaritan looking out for us.

So today, I turned my phone back on after church and noticed that I had a voicemail from a number that I didn't recognize.  I knew it couldn't be someone calling about Ryan as he'd been with me all morning so I didn't get any kind of sinking feeling.  In fact, I was sure it was a sales call of some sort.

And then I heard this:

Man's Voice: "Uh, hello, this is Officer Smith* and I'm calling regarding a homicide that took place last night at a property you own."

My thoughts:  Oh God, our sweet tenant has been murdered in our rental house.  Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. 

Officer Smith:  "The property is located at #### Oak Street* and we need any footage that you may have recorded on your cameras.  Please give me a call back at ###-###-####."

The address he gave was not the address of our rental house.  Thank goodness.

I called him back immediately.  He asked if I represented the company that owned the property.  I informed him that I was a stay-at-home mom and we didn't own that property.  He recited the phone number he'd dialed.  I informed him that he'd misdialed by one digit.  He apologized for the miscommunication and I finally took a breath before hanging up.

Talk about disturbing.

I feel sorry for the person for whom that call was intended.

I wonder if they were as freaked out as I was once he finally reached them.

I guess I'll never know.


*Names have been changed in case a crazy murderer does a google search on his (or her - I don't discriminate when it comes to cases of murder) alleged crime.

Letters

Dear Neighbors to our Right,

It would be great if you could stop throwing your trash in our yard.  It would be great if you could stop playing basketball before 10 pm.  It would really be great if you would watch your mouths while playing basketball so that I can let my kids play outside again.  It would be great if you could learn how to work your car alarm so that it wouldn't go off every morning between one and four.  It would be great if you didn't tell your kid that he could play at our house all day (lunch included!) without asking me first.  It would be great if you could make your car payments so that we don't have to watch the repo men come and tow away two of your three vehicles.  But then again, if you're not keeping up with your car payments then you're probably not keeping up with your rent, either, and you will be evicted soon.

Here's Hoping,
A Neighbor Who Has Really Tried to be Nice
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Dear Neighbor Two Doors Down to our Left,

I realize that it's difficult to pack up a house and get ready to move with a five year old around.  But dropping her off at my house several days in row is not cool.  Neither is asking us to watch her as we pull into our driveway after getting home from our vacation.  And neither is asking the sweet neighbor who lives between us to text me and ask when I'm getting home so you can drop off your kid.  Not cool, man.

Find Yourself a Babysitter,
A Tired Mom
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Dear Netflix,

Would you please add the next two seasons of Sons of Anarchy to your instant streaming programming?  We're almost done with the seasons you offer and we are hooked.  Hooked.

About to Go Buy Some Leather Cuts,
Two Law Abiding Citizens Who've Been Dreaming About Motorcycles
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Dear Sweet Daughter,

You wanted to paint your room so we did.  You wanted white, whispy curtains so we got them.  You want a green lamp so I'm looking for one (although it would help if you weren't so picky).  And now that I've done my part, you need to do yours and put all your stuff back in your room.  I'm fairly certain your little brother would like to have his room back when he gets home from his grandma's house.

Get to Work Please,
Mom
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Dear Summer,

Please stop flying by.

Sincerely,
A Mom Who Likes Sleeping Past 6am