The middle school transition may be the most difficult – in my opinion.

Mostly I think this because it’s been rougher than the first batch of older three Humpfreeze and their transition to high school or college.

Side note: Well, that’s if you skip that first week of 8th grade which was not only the darling twins middle school transition but also their public school transition as we homeschooled in their 7th grade and K-6th grade was in private school…sorry drifting down memory lane…that first week of 8th grade public school where Wizzy saw a knife in a girl’s purse and reported it to a teacher and then we spent some conference time with a counselor and administrator covering it up so the brand new school wouldn’t get a black mark and the girl didn’t get expelled because zero tolerance in the handbook didn’t apply to the knife or that particular girl. Pretty sure that was the longest run-on sentence I’ve ever written. Oh, the fun was really just beginning as The Bubble began to pop with the exposure to all the things I had kept hidden for so long.

Middle school is the age – again just my opinion – where the kids have outgrown a lot of the cuteness and it takes a whole lot of extra love and patience to not ground these children until high school graduation. You just don’t hear a lot of people saying things like “Look at that group of middle school kids, aren’t they adorable?” They are struggling to become more independent but are not quite old enough for any real freedom from those darn parents.

Week 1 of Middle School

Scary Baby’s first week was so smooth we were scared. We’re not pessimists but we knew it was the calm before the storm but we praised her independence. She got up every morning and got herself ready with time to spare. (She saves quite a bit of time by not brushing her hair – a story for another day.) Five days in a row of smoothly going to school is close to a record. Sorry, still no picture.

Week 2 of Middle School

Tuesday, day six. It is crucial that she get her instrument for orchestra T-O-N-I-G-H-T because she will be the only one without an instrument if we don’t take her to the music store right now. We had already spent a good deal of time discussing instrument selection and were unable to convince her that we thought band would be a better choice than orchestra. Never mind our reasons – none of us are musical unless you count the fact that we all have iPods and some of us love, love, love country music.

We simply supported her decision to choose orchestra. In an imaginary coin toss she chooses the viola over the violin. We don’t know why and we don’t care. We are just glad it is not the cello or bass.

Surely you know by now that Saint PhilBillPaul took her that very night to get the last rental viola in the state of Georgia.

And even though we have learned that some nasty little middle school boy commented that her viola was “obviously used” she has been loud and proud about her new acquisition.

Middle school boys are icky.

Wednesday, Day Seven.
It’s all over. She visited the clinic because her stomach hurt. We do not want the clinic to get to know Scary Baby better than the entire student body. We hoped we had left this elementary school legacy behind her. Thank goodness her very sweet and darling brother was available to take some magical Tums® to the clinic so she could finish her day.

I will write part two of this glorious day what transpired that evening in another post.

The best part of this lengthy story about middle school?

When The Grunter entered the middle school office, he says the receptionist was a wee bit busy texting under her desk and looked up quickly and said to him,

“Checking in?”

I’m still laughing that he could have checked himself in as an 8th grader. 7th grader? He turns 21 next month. My poor pumpkin.

I also told him he should have checked in, went to an 8th grade class, sat down and then we could have broke a giant news story about some security risks in the school system since a 20 year-old got past the front desk and could have done harm.

Might have made up for the “covering up the knife in the purse incident” that I’m obviously still holding a grudge about.

Just sayin’

Any thoughts, ideas, suggestions on how to make the middle school transition less overwhelming? It’s obvious that I’m way too old to have a middle school child and poor Scary Baby gets the short end of the parenting stick…

An internet fast.

I wish I could say I lost a few pounds but alas, I continued to eat during my fast.

Two back-to-back trips meant I was gone from home for eight days.

The first trip was so spontaneous that I didn’t have time to prepare any blog posts and thought I would write when I arrived at our destination.

Spontaneity with a family of six is really an oxymoron.

But we pulled it off and I was sure I would just keep blogging when we got out of the car.

Only to find no internet.

Except on my phone. I’m a creative problem solver and a bit of techno-nerd but I cannot write a blog post on the keyboard of my phone.

Nor can I answer emails other than a few short words on my phone.

I’m an old-fashioned typist – shocking but true!

We’re all fine, fine, fine!

Really, it was a lovely break. All the typing and emailing and reading on the computer screen can be exhausting. I think everyone should try to take an internet break a time or two.

Being tethered to the internet and the wondrous wireless world is great but I still like being with people and have conversation while we make eye contact with each other and aren’t multi-tasking with our laptops and cell phones and other amazing electronic gadgets.

I’ll share some highlights in the coming days. Oh, the fun stories I have to tell of the Humpfreeze family travels.

What’s the longest you’ve gone without internet in recent years?

Cranky, residual drug lethargy and I’m sure PhilBillPaul could add a few more choice words in describing my behavior.

Did I mention I’m a wuss in the pain category?

Grumpiness may have been triggered by hunger, a sticky toaster lever, someone eating my natural peanut butter without asking (two giant jars in pantry for those who have informed me “we are NOT trying to eating healthy MOM…”) and the shooting pains of my weenie 10 stitches.

The flip out came when I saw Scary Baby with my Deluxe Yahtzee game. I have an unnatural and unhealthy obsession with keeping my games from childhood to adulthood in pristine condition.

I’m not blaming Junebug but I will say there were a few memorable days where we hunted for that ONE missing puzzle piece or a game token or a box lid that mysteriously disappeared.

My children do not share my addiction for keeping games in order and put away in their boxes they way they came. Go figure.

Side note: The Grunter shares my addiction. Something about being September Virgos. Not that we are into astrology.

I seriously adore the fact that they all love to play board games. Especially in today’s video and computer world.

But I’m well aware of the mixed message of me snapping when they touch my games without asking and furthermore do not put them away properly.

So yes, I snapped.

And it only got worse when PhilBillPaul opened up one of the game cabinets and there were loose cards and the Taboo game buzzer was NOT in the box.

Breathe, Sherra, breathe.

After a shrieking fit (I wish I could think of a nicer way to say it but let’s call a spade a spade), I made some toast and retreated to my room.

The x*nax had clearly worn off.

Which left PhilBillPaul sorting cards and taping broken box lids with packing tape.

And Scary Baby was upstairs crying because we sent her friend home because we also discovered her room was a wreck and the rule since birth has been “Work Before Play” which meant her room should have been cleaned up before she had a guest.

About an hour later, a brave soul pecked on my bedroom door. Scary Baby said,

“Hi Momma. Lizzie and I made you this.”

Raspberries, strawberries, blackberries, milk, sugar and ice.

Love in a glass.

With a bendy straw.

Crappy Mother – 0
Darling Children – 1

How’s your summer going?

They are still not thrilled with the changes.

The most disturbing part for Wizzy has been the moving of their beds.

She has said at least three times…

“I know we’re in college and will only be home for 3 months but why did you have to take the other bed out the room?”

“But Mom, why did you have to take a BED out?”

“Seriously Mom, why is one of our beds in the basement?”

Another traumatic event I can be blamed for pretty much through eternity.

I take full responsibility and it’s probably wrong but I still feel pretty good about the new arrangement.

Call me mean. Oh wait, they already do.

Hey, maybe this is why she has been sleeping at other people’s houses?

TV is moved up from the basement. They’ve never had a TV in their room. That’s another good reason why this is now called the lounge.

Video game system – again never allowed on any TV in our house – now hooked up since they bought it while they were at college.

The benefits of being the last born and old rules flying out the window because you have three older siblings.

Futon is ordered. They are guests in our home and we have invited them to use the lounge until they head back to college in August. I think it’s pretty generous.

The cleaning and fumigating and throwing away and sweeping and mopping and sorting and disinfecting and organizing, etc., took us many weekends. I’ll save pictures of that for another day.

We really like the lounge. Scary Baby likes the lounge. The Grunter likes the lounge.

And I don’t really see what the big deal is about with one twin bed.

It made me think of my “You’re Gonna Miss This” post from last year as their senior year was ending.

Photo from April 2009

They’ve been sleeping together in a twin bed more than they have slept in separate beds for their whole lives. It’s some kind of twin thing.

Shoot, at our house THREE can fit in a twin bed. They should all be glad they are skinny.

How cute is that on the first night they were home that their favorite brother climbed into bed with them after he got off work to snuggle and talk?

The fleeting moments when they all get along make my heart sing.

Really they do.

Because sometimes it feels like yesterday that those three little people climbed in that same bed and talked and giggled and didn’t have a care in the world.

I’m interested so leave a comment and tell me…

Do you take advantage of the extra space when your college kids head off to school? Did you or are you currently preserving your college kids’ bedrooms? Just curious if I’m in the minority on the room conversion and where I fall on the mean mom scale.

I do want to go on record here and note that I did wait a full year!

The green kind that they don’t have much of in Arizona.

Those were Roger Leroy’s words when we drove up to our house.

“I love grass.”

In full disclosure, she was looking at the next door neighbor’s grass. Because we have patches of weeds and a front yard that I’m sure has most of our neighbors wishing we would move.

The darling twins both contemplated getting out of the car and rolling around in the neighbor’s side yard. She has really good grass.

Wizzy’s comment as we rounded the loop on the interstate leaving the airport, “I really missed Georgia. I really like trees.”

I do understand their feelings about the green grass and green trees. I remember the first time I visited Arizona and came home saying “It’s really brown.” It’s a unique and different landscape for sure.

I think I get bonus points for NOT taking any pictures IN the airport.

I love pictures of them walking in front of me as I watch them. I wanted to capture this one in particular because Roger Leroy’s duffel bag is almost as big as she is.

“Welcome to Georgia” moment when one of the shuttle vans honked at me when I stopped in crosswalk to snap the picture of two Soldiers coming home. NICE.

I did refrain from hand gestures but will admit that I stopped in my tracks and yelled something that might have sounded like, “Bite me.”

Roger Leroy was none too happy when I “forced” them to stop at the entrance to the parking garage for this shot.

First stop for a late birthday lunch per Wizzy’s request.

One of her favorite chain restaurants and it was a delight to learn that they both got a free spaghetti meal on their birthday.

Wizzy got a little stressed because she wanted fettuccine not spaghetti. I told her to relax and I’d ask. The manager waited on us and service and food was excellent.

She got her fettuccine and Scary Baby did not sit on top of her for the whole meal. (Just part of it.)

We were also relieved that the restaurant police did not issue a ticket to PhilBillPaul who ate Roger Leroy’s birthday spaghetti in clear view of the staff while she and I split a combo platter. He wanted spaghetti, she wanted lasagna.

Are we really that big of restaurant rule rebels when we switch plates? He always gets a little paranoid and we always get hysterical watching him stress about our plate switching and overall bad behavior.

We just speculated out loud on what he thought The Spaghetti Warehouse Police might say if they caught him eating her spaghetti.

Home

The dogs might have been happier to see them than we were.

Maybe it was a tie.

We are all glad they are home with us safe and sound.

Wizzy also shared that she couldn’t wait to see it rain. It never rained while they were gone. I was pretty sure we could accommodate that wish and within hours of being home, she got her wish.

They turned their chairs to the window and sat still for at least 5 minutes watching a storm blow in and the rain beat down.

They set a personal record and stayed home until 8:30pm and then the call of Taco Bell was too much to stand.

Wizzy ended the day with this touching Facebook update for the world to read…

And, for the record, it was all our fault. Well, mostly her Dad’s fault.

I’ll take the blame for other things in day two and day three.

A few more fun things to share this week about their homecoming.

But first up, we need to get down to the serious stuff…it’s officially day four and we’re watching The Bachelorette together tonight.

Woo-hoo!

Besides the grilling and picnics and 3 day weekend, Memorial Day is a day that we should all reflect on the sacrifices of those who have come before us and those who serve today…

Fighting to protect our freedom.

Then I remembered I didn’t need to look for a picture because in addition to my uncles, my cousins, my nephew and friends, we have two soldiers right here…

Well, not exactly right here.

They are still in Arizona at AIT.

But we are thankful as I know they are too that their Daddy and Granny got to fly in and spend time with them because they got a 4 day pass off base.

They’ve seen the glorious Grand Canyon.

Side note: I’m not sure how much PhilBillPaul and Granny actually saw because they appear to have their eyes closed.

And thanks to a special family in Mesa, they spent a beautiful day boating on Sagauro Lake.

You don’t have to save your gratitude and prayers for Memorial Day. On any given day, I hope you’ll send up a prayer for our military and their families…

and my darling twin daughters.

Here’s a great video worth taking 4 minutes from your day to watch and remember…

Please take your seat and let’s review what hasn’t changed since the apostrophe was invented in _______ (fill in the blank if you know what year).

Before we start class, please be aware that we are focusing on apostrophes today and not on complete sentences or the proper use of commas. You will understand that as you continue reading.

First, here are some examples of the most common and incorrect ways to use an apostrophe.

At a school…no less.

Photo courtesy of Liz Henry

Photo courtesy of noiseburst

From an Atlanta Journal Constitution article that has since been corrected…

They then taped its mouth shut and bound it’s legs so that state wildlife officers could transport it to South Georgia.

Got the first one right.

its mouth

Possessive – no apostrophe

Second one wrong.

it’s legs

Still possessive – apostrophe should not be used.

I know the screenshot proof is tiny but if you click it you can read the full, corrected article about the alligator and its mouth and legs.

Side note: At a later time, let’s discuss what you would do if you saw a 5 foot alligator walking through your front yard. Dacula is a small town right next to us.

The way I remember this and most other quirky grammar rules is to read aloud. Or read it aloud in my head. Does anyone else do that? Chime in and tell me how you read aloud in your head and that I’m not crazy.

I know the “its” and “it’s” thing is confusing because you are suppose to add an apostrophe to make a word possessive and just add an “s” to make it plural. This is the backward exception to the general rules of possessive and plural. Add in contraction rules and people seem to glaze over.

The point is that I know that it’s is the contraction of it is (or “it has”) and that is what I say in my head.

For this example I would say “it is mouth” and “it is legs” and know quite clearly that I do NOT need the apostrophe because it’s it is possessive.

Here are two great tutorials regarding apostrophes:

Apostrophe Catastrophe (Part One)

Apostrophe Catastrophe (Part Two)

Here is the only exception to these apostrophe rules.

This is a great story of a typo that actually defines a company. I’ve known this story for years because visiting the Lands’ End outlet store in Madison, Wisconsin has been a favorite bargain shopping trip for my family since the early 80’s.

Fun company. Great products. Nicest towels we’ve ever owned both bath and beach. “Guaranteed. Period.®” is their policy and so many companies could learn extraordinary customer service from them!

Best of all, it’s a great lesson that we all make mistakes and I love the commitment they made to embrace the mistake.

I still believe we should all make a commitment to proof and proof again and ask someone else to proof our work. Most typos seem lazy to me and correcting them takes little effort while sending out a message that says,

“I still care about and respect our English language.”

I guess I’m old-fashioned like that.

They are here.

This is some of the scenery.

I love the port-a-potty and trash dumpster. Gives the shot some character.

They are at AIT (Advanced Individualized Training) in classes and training all week.

Their MOS (Military Occupational Specialty) is 35M for those who are truly interested.

If they pass everything they will earn 24 college credits.

Side note: This is a lovely opportunity to brag on Wizzy who passed “both parts of the whole secret military test stuff…” and she was the first in her platoon of 150 to accomplish that. Go Wizzy!

They have weekends free and do this a lot.

Roger Leroy wearing a Cookie Monster shirt looks fashionable as ever.

I think they eat out a lot because they have to wear these to class every day.

They’re in full battle rattle and they could guest post here sometime and give you all the details about how much what they are wearing weighs and other fascinating details that I would get wrong if I tried to explain.

I ask very technical questions when we Skype with them on the computer. Like, “What’s that triangle thing hanging in front of your crotch?”

Again, I think they need to write a guest post.

When they are not being B.A. soldiers, Roger Leroy is the head of the entertainment committee.

The monkey ears move when she talks and she doesn’t really wear glasses. She’s special.

I have no explanation for this.

But I’m pretty sure it has something to do with interrogation and military intelligence.

They will be home at the end of June and then head back to college in August. They are counting the days.

We are too.

She has brought us countless hours of entertainment…

She earned her name in so many ways.

And this year is no different.

Side note: She had some major stage fright in school performances even though she has always entertained us at home and in small groups of friends.

This is really for her darling twin sisters who couldn’t be at her breakout performance last month…and grandma and granny…and the 3 other readers brave enough to watch two minutes of PhilBillPaul’s very bad video of Scary Baby rapping with a friend from school…she’s the one on the left.

Happy Birthday darling last daughter.

We haven’t had a dull moment since you were born!

xoxo
Momma

PhilBillPaul, his mother and my mother found this whole story way too amusing. I’m calling for a little more empathy from my loyal blog readers after you get to the end.

First, let me preface this story with a little background about being a cashier as a part-time job or as a career choice. We have a lot of cashier history in our family. My mom was a cashier back in her youth. Cashier was my first job in high school and the darling twins are cashiers at that other grocery store which I’m not blogging about today but is known for its stellar customer service.

The first thing we learned in cashier training was “The customer is always right.” Never were we allowed to argue, roll our eyes or have an attitude with a customer. (Or chew gum which is a personal pet peeve of mine when I see a store clerk chomping.)

My mom and I had major cashier job stress. It was back in the day where you actually had to punch numbers on the cash register, know department numbers, prices AND even use old-fashioned addition and subtraction to handle money and count back change.

Nowadays if the scanner or the touchscreen isn’t working, the average cashier cannot do his/her job and management seems panic-stricken.

Which reminds me of another story you must remind me to tell you about McDonald’s and how you can shut the whole place down with one tiny request.

Sorry for that wandering mind distraction. Back to the subject at hand.

Krogers

Side note: That “s” is for a certain friend. She knows who she is.

I need for you to have a picture of the cashier who checked me out in your mind. I really need to go back to the store and snap her picture. It’s one of those “Separated at Birth” things…

She looks eerily like Maxine, the crabby Hallmark character. Minus the biting sense of humor.

I actually love Maxine.

The Kroger cashier. Not so much.

Kroger has some standard greetings and questions asking the customer:

“How are you today?”

“Are you a Kroger Plus customer?”

Ending the checkout process with:

“Would you like to donate a dollar to ____________ (insert current Kroger charity)?”

To which I almost always reply “No thank you” with a smile.

Because I will freely admit here and now that I prefer to choose my charitable giving without any cashier pressure. Yes, even when it’s only a dollar.

I’ve never felt any wrath from this.

Until now.

When the not sweet Maxine-like cashier looked back up at me and said…

“Are you a senior?”

Which changes my relationship with Kroger on so many levels.

I’ll proudly ask for my senior discount when I’m eligible but until then, I think Kroger needs to re-visit their cashier training program.

Only after I shared this story did PhilBillPaul share that the day before he went through a local drive-thru for lunch and upon handing his debit card with photo on it that the cashier declared…

“Wow, that’s an old picture.”

Ouch.

Customer Service 101 – let’s get back to the basics folks. I think that begins with not biting the hand that feeds you. Insulting your customers is bad for business.

Especially the old, grouchy ones.