Stuped

‘Laughter’ is one of Merlot’s spelling words this week.

It was killing me last night, “Damn, that word ‘laughter’!”

She missed it every damn time.

Hee Hee!

I am sending up prayers that she gets it right today.  She needs to because when I’m at the nest at the end of the week she does much better on her spelling test than she does when Wilbly Stanbur (I’m trying them on) is on.  So her spelling grades are up and down.  I think he has her study but doesn’t hound her like I do which is to quiz her while she is in the tub and on the way to school, child gets no peace.  She is not a natural speller.  At all.  As a matter of fact, when I called out her words to her a few months ago and then looked at the results, note her heading:

 

For real.

  

Stuped. 

 I had a few chuckles yesterday.

One being the number of texts I received wanting to 

know who the ‘coperkid/copter’ were.

Ha Ha.   I told them too!

Jumping Bean got in the car and said that she and Copterkid talked about it and she thinks that she just needs to widen Copterkid’s hula hoop.  My words to them about personal space came back to me, (I totally get off when that happens) “Imagine everyone has a hula hoop around them.  That is their personal space.”

Yes, widen it.  Good thinking.  Good problem solving there.

She said, “Yes, her mom is a little too much involved.  I was thinking of every time someone wants to tell Copterkid something private and she says, “Okay, but I will have to tell my mom.” 

 “Do not tell her any secrets! Especially about me!  I do not want her calling me again!”

JB, “No, I know, Mom.

Hmmph.

I know it is a fine line.  You certainly need to know what your kids are doing.  I had another talk with her yesterday about being careful online and bad people out there that aren’t who they say they are and don’t talk to strangers.  I’m not a fool.  But I also recognize that children (like everyone in the world) have a private internal life.  I can’t imagine at what point Copterkid will stop telling her mom every secret that the kids at school tell her but I am sure at some point she will quit.  Good God, I don’t want to know.  I don’t have time in my life to manage all of my 11 year-old daughter’s friend’s secrets.  

Help me Jesus.  Stuped.

Also stuped is the amount of emotional energy I am expending trying to work a bunch of shit out to make everyone happy.  Tomorrow night JB is singing with the school choir at a basketball game.  Wilbly is on and is taking his girlfriend.  He bought the tickets through the choir for $11 pp.  I also want to go but Al is going to be here and I didn’t get tickets through the school (I didn’t know if Al was coming or not at that time) and to get them now they are $35 pp;  plus I want to take one of JB’s friends who wants to go and recently moved away and is in town visiting for the weekend.  Really, what I want to do, is go hear the singing and leave because it is my only kid free time with Al, I go back on on Saturday evening because I have the kids for Easter. I don’t want to pay 100 bucks to hear 2 min of singing.  

Is that bad?

 Really, I do not have the extra money because of my stuped laptop.

Stuped Geek Squad.

Stuped, Stuped.

Stuped is as Stuped does, per Forrest Gump

(which I watched last week).

Tomorrow I will be Stuped Happy

because my Italian love bunny will be here.

None of this stuped stuff will matter.

Happy Easter y’all.