Box Tops

A note that I sent to my two oldest daughters' teachers.

Dear Riena and Judy,

I know what both of you are thinking. "Seriously?! This lazy Mom just sent in Box Tops, without being amazing and painstakingly cutting them all out and adhering them to the appropriate sheets?!" I understand. I get it. I really do. However, here is how this evening has played out.

I came home, later than normal, as Thursdays are ballet/tap/gymnastics days for my big two. While it is only Thursday, and I work tomorrow, I have already worked close to 40 hours this week. (I allowed one of my pharmacists to take a vacation. I really need to stop allowing such nonsense.) Once we got home, we frantically did homework/reading, dinner, bath, and bed. (This was all while my two year old kept throwing Play-Doh everywhere, as I cursed my husband for working even later than I did, the past two nights in a row.)

I am exhausted, due to working 10 hour shifts every night this week, and I have not had time for much of anything. Once I got the big two down for the count, I went through their backpacks and remembered the damn BOX TOP WEEK! I went to my stash and found all my saved, roughly ripped from the package Box Tops. My OCD kicked in, immediately, so I started to neatly cut and trim them. (You will see them in the baggie.) However, after $4 or $5 worth of trimming, I decided I could go on no longer without some wine.

After having wine though, I realized, "$%^! THIS! I cannot possibly cut out a MILLION EFFIN' DOLLARS worth of Box Tops (and not just regular Box Tops, but the horrifying plastic ones that are ALL about static cling and will not get the hell off of you, much less into the bag in which you are trying to force them), without losing my damn mind!" Ergo, I just quit. (You will see those in the baggie, as well.) Yep! I said it. I QUIT! I do not have the mindset or capability to earn the Mother of the Year Award, this evening! I just cannot!

I am tired. It is TGIT TV night. The wine has kicked in. My hands are cramping from opening prescription vials all day, followed by trimming the smallest rectangles I have ever trimmed in my life! My mind is fried, from a stressful work week. My youngest wants to sit in my lap. My husband made a comment about how much it must blow to be sitting here cutting out Box Tops, to which I replied by throwing a pile at him, which has only caused me more grief because I challenge you to throw these things on your classroom floor and see if you can beat static cling and pick them back up! (Also, Warren is now buried out back. Tell no one.) I am just DONE!

I am fully aware my Mother of the Year Award is slipping out of my grasp, but I 100% CANNOT FINISH TRIMMING THESE THINGS OR NEATLY TAPE THEM ONTO PIECES OF PAPER! Find someone you DETEST in the school and have them do it! I am out!

The good news is that both girls have $9 each in Box Tops. The SUPER FRUSTRATING news is that the PTO President just informed me that they will NOT be applied to Fall Festival Dollars this year, which makes me want to take them all out back and set them on fire!!! (THIS MEANS I HAVE BEEN SAVING THESE #$%^&*@! THINGS ALL SUMMER LONG, FOR NO APPARENT REASON! NONE WHATSOEVER!)

So, I hate the PTO President (love her), hate my husband (love him), and hate whomever invented Box Tops (HATE WITH EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING)! I am sorry to have dropped the ball on this one, but I am going to murder someone, if I do anything more with these Box Tops. They are sealed in baggies. They have been counted THREE times! I never want to see them, again! NEVER.EVER.NEVER.ASK.ME.FOR.MORE.BOX.TOPS! (EVER!)

I am going to finish my wine and do something NOT related to school or work! Honestly, I may even call into work, tomorrow. (Which would simply be me calling myself, and myself would definitely understand!) Riena, do not let Riley Mac get eaten alive by mutant bugs or drown in the lake, during her "communing with nature" field trip. (Sounds like an earthly version of Hell.) Judy, do not send a letter home telling me you want to take Campbell and her classmates out into the wilderness, because while I have come to terms with my seven year old attending such a field trip, I will flip a switch should you request to take my precious five year old out there! (My seven year old is getting mouthier, each day. My five year old, however, is still a Mommy-loving dolly baby. So, I plan on keeping that one...for now.) 

I hope the two of you have excellent weekends!
Ran

**ARE YOU KIDDING ME, JUDY?!?! I JUST RECEIVED A REMIND MESSAGE FROM YOU! TOMORROW IS SILLY SOCK/SUPER HERO DAY! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?! **smacks forehead, while cursing**

(I still love you, Judy, just Riena a little bit more right now.)

One Family. Three Reactions.

When I was attending pharmacy school, there were several of us who bonded (from the first day). We grew close, as the years of schooling continued. Despite graduating eight years ago, we have remained friends and still get together at least twice a year - once as couples and once with our children (with an occasional all girls trip thrown into the mix). Life can get so busy and so unbearable, but we Pharm Girls have all chosen to make the time to stay friends. 

We are from all over the Southeastern area of the United States (Alabama, Tennessee, Kentucky), and one of us even being from the country of Latvia. We contact one another when we discover we are pregnant, when we want to strangle our husbands, when one of our kids does something amazing, when one of our kids does something horrifying (ATE CAT LITTER!!!), when we need a shoulder to cry on, and when we need someone with whom to celebrate. These ladies have seen me through my ups and downs over the years, as I have seen them through theirs. I, honestly, have no idea what I would do without this core group of women - my very best friends.

With that being said, some of these women's families I know very well, while others I have only met a handful of times (i.e., when they would visit, during pharmacy school). One such family that I have only met a time or two (and the last time I saw them being the day we graduated) is Vanessa's family. I know the basics (where her parents live, that she has a brother), but due to the fact that I never see them, I have made no permanent associations with them.

A few weeks ago, Vanessa and her aforementioned family all went to Walt Disney World together. It was an exciting family trip, and Vanessa kept us (being the Pharm Girls) up-to-date with texts and postings of excitement on Facebook. One such post was a picture of Vanessa on Rock 'n' Roller Coaster, at Disney's Hollywood Studios. The photo, which can be seen below, is classic Vanessa.

As one can see, Vanessa is TERRIFIED of roller coasters! However, she is a trooper and rode it, anyway (panic attack and all). While I was proud of her for fighting through one of her fears, I had to poke fun, as ANY good friend would do. So, I commented on her post. 

"It is much better with your eyes open! ;)"

She responded with, "My eyes were closed 50% of the time!!!! #ImAWimpOnRollerCoasters."

I quipped, "Obviously, because the man beside you - and even the one behind you - look like they are on a completely different ride than you!! ;)"

God forbid I stop there! (OH, NO!!) I just haaad to keep talking (posting), because who cares if I make fun of the random strangers in her photo? (Right?!) So, before she replied, I again commented.

"In your defense, the guy beside you is possibly high."

Vanessa's response, "That's my Dad and brother."

Open mouth. Insert proverbial foot. Speechless.