I hated not updating about Caleb's first day of school. It was fabulous, by the way. He's a big fifth grader and says he rules the school! Loving it!
But in my typical, forgetful fashion, I forgot my log on to this site. Ugh. I finally had time to have them send me a reminder for my log on. I'm sure they wish they had a notification that read "here you go, dumbass. Here is your log on information. Again." They were very politically correct though. Thank goodness because after the past few days I've had that might have sent me over the edge.
So Caleb got off to school perfectly great on Monday morning. It always cracks me up how the first couple weeks of school its so easy to get him out the door. Then its a battle each and every day after the "newness" wears off. I guess it doesn't really crack me up though. More like it makes me want to pull my hair out and scream at the top of my lungs. That wouldn't be politically correct either though.
Caleb was adament about getting a new back pack for school. He gets a new one every year. And this drives Jamie crazy. We are not those parents who go out and purchase a whole new wardrobe for our kid to return to school looking like Mr. GQ. He gets new shoes (only because his feet are just a tad smaller than canoes and he NEEDS new shoes) and he gets a couple new shirts. Later, once its cooler, he will get new jeans and winter items. But this too is simply because he needs them and refuses to stop growing. So in my opinion, buying a new back pack each year is not a big deal.
Jamie has a different opinion.
We argue about this every new year. I remind him to "pick his battles" and he reminds me that he can think of better things to spend $30 on. Blah blah blah.
This year, Jamie won. Mainly because I didn't have the energy to battle but it also seemed Caleb didn't have much fight either. He made a few comments about being the ONLY one without a new backpack. Whatever.
At the end of his first day, he excitedly came home to report he didn't want a new back pack, he wanted trapper keeper. Well, they aren't called trapper keepers now. I don't know what they are called but every time I called it a trapper keeper Caleb gave me that look as if to say I was the dumbest person alive. Which, of course, made me say trapper keeper much more than necessary. I find it fun to make him squirm. I don't get a lot of other entertainment.
Off we went to Target. They didn't have the perfect trapper keeper. We plugged on to Walmart. Nope. Not there either. I suggested Office Max and after an exaggerated eye roll, he agreed to give it a try. Fail. At the end of the evening, the kid ended up finding his dream trapper keeper at Walgreens. Walgreens. Not the place I was imagining doing my back to school shopping at. But whatever. It was cheaper than a backpack and everyone is happy.
Faith tagged along on this trip and kept begging for a Strawberry Shortcake lunch box for when she goes to school. Since she has one more year and I know that Strawberry Shortcake may not make the cut next year, I opted to hold off on any purchases for her. She was quite sad about that. But a couple of stickers made her forget her woes.
Back to my few days of forgetfulness. Maybe I was distracted with my baby starting fifth grade. Or perhaps I was over tired from the 7 month old wanting to play at 3am. Who knows. But on Sunday, after taking my shower, I noted that my hair felt strange. An odd, sticky feeling that I complained about for the majority of the day. Just ask Jamie.
It wasn't until I was getting in bed that I realized what was wrong with my hair. Turns out when I took me shower, I lathered up my hair for a good shampooing and then it slipped my mind to rinse the soap out. That's right, folks. I just left the soap in my hair. Seriously. This is what happens after the third kid. I've heard of this happening after the second too, but regardless, its the kids fault. No doubt about that.
And needless to say, I was already lathered up and ready to go for my shower Monday morning. I guess I saved some time in the end. And surprisingly, Jamie didn't make fun of me quite the way I had thought he would. At least not to my face. Maybe he was afraid of sending me over the edge too. Or maybe he was a little embarrassed for me. I'm over being embarrassed. Like I said, its not my fault. It's the kids.
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