I want a do-over. Some weeks, there's just no winning. Those hassles pile up and weigh a body down, sink the person into a seriously growly mood. Except I'm working on my second case of laryngitis since the semester began. At the rate it's going, I'll have no voice by the end of the day, so instead of saying all this, I'll rant via keyboard because these things need to be said.
Frak me three ways to Sunday. What is with this crap, anyway? I am still not well, after weeks of being sick, and a new study just came out, as I sit here considering whether to go back to the clinic, showing that antibiotics are ineffective with sinus infections. Given that the last batch of antibiotics didn't knock this stuff out, and that I have a mono diagnosis, I guess I just have to wait this out. I'm getting tired of this crap, tired of sleeping every single chance I get, tired of being in bed before eight at night, tired of being tired. It's keeping me from things I want to do, need to do, and it makes it challenging to do things that I do manage to get done.
Ah well. Maybe my body knows something my mind doesn't want to admit--that I'm in need of a break, in need of restoration. Makes you wonder is it my spirit that needs restoration, more so than my body, and if, in the process of taking care of my own mental well-being, the body will follow? I hope so. Both are feeling worn thin, given the feeling I have of battles on all sides of me demanding to be fought; there are things that make me beyond frustrated.
The girls's schools seem to have lost their collective heads--Lily's coach making the kids play a game called prison ball that's as bad as it sounds, and Rosie's thinking that having the kids beat the crap out of each other's legs with swim noodles is good fun--math testing gone to ridiculous lengths--what 10 year old kid needs two months of four hours of math testing a week in order to prepare for the new state test? Hours of stupid math homework a week that leave Lily, Rick, and me ready to drop kick the math homework and the backpack it comes home in out to the dumpster.
Every afternoon and evening has become a battleground to get the homework with the girls and the studying for various tests done. No wonder I'm in bed at eight. I've spent the time from the bus dropping them off sometimes right up to bedtime helping them get their work done, fighting them to get it done.
It's building up, my dissatisfaction with the school system, with its stupid stuff an animal workshop (don't forget your money!) and items for sale in the office, with a testing system that has ruined third grade on--we're making kids HATE school and hate learning, and parents hate it as well. We're breeding a culture of anti-intellectuals because they associate learning with ridiculous circling and bubbling and writing paragraph numbers down.
I don't get how or why we as parents put up with this bullshit, unless there are those of us who think it's appropriate to bring commercialism into the school system and inept, incompetent state testing demands that force the curriculum to be cut to teaching to the test.
Consider this my war cry.
My kids aren't buying shit at school, especially a stuff-your-bulldog thing.
We aren't selling fundraising crap, either. You want money from me for school supplies, ask.
And unless you, as a coach, want me hitting you in the legs with a swim noodle, my daughter better not be getting hit with a frakking noodle. Don't even get me started with prison ball.
And the homework crap is on notice. Five afternoons and evenings a week, we're held captive to some of the dumbest homework I've seen that DOES nothing to build skills but everything to kill any enjoyment or appreciation of an incredible subject that should light my daughters up with joy. I loved math, loved the manipulation of numbers, loved the underlying patterns that numbers have and of finding those patterns. I hate the math my kids come home with. And so do THEY.
Honestly, some days it's enough to make a person want to go back to bed!