by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . June 30, 2010 . 7:51PM
During the summer months, there are some days where I have so few clients that AJ doesn’t have to attend his summer program and he is allowed to come hang out with me at the office. My friend Meggan is doing her practicum with us and he thinks Meggan hung the moon. He hangs out with Meggan or plays his Nintendo DS and I see clients while he avoids going to the summer program he claims is boring him and rotting his brains out. Hardly. The summer program does cool things like going to Jump Zone and swimming and playing games. But AJ is a momma’s boy and that little guy would rather be in close proximity to me than most anything in the whole world. When asked what he’d liked to do for vacation if he had one week, with the thought of Disney World being an option and anything else in the whole United States being the other option, he replied “Go to NeeNee’s because we PARTY.” He has no idea what he’s passing up and we love family time.
I’m veering off topic by a lot. I’m just going to say that my son is not worldly in the slightest and move on.
We were in the car on the way to my office when AJ asks, out of nowhere as per the norm, “Why do we celebrate 4th of July?” I’m not good with history, but I did my very best to explain our declaration of independence from England and why we chose to do so. He took this to mean that “we’re at war with England!” I explained that this was a long time ago and we are fine with England now. In fact, we’re pretty good friends. We like them. We do tea without tossing it over boats.
No. This is unacceptable. They were bad. They must pay. Grudges must be held.
I could feel the stewing going on in the back seat…and I chose to ignore it.
Until trivia night last night. There was a question regarding the back of the new quarters and the design on the back of one of them. The question had nothing to do with England, nor did it have to do with 4th of July or our war with England. But AJ chose to answer the question as “Florida. Because it has a direct line from England.”
I may not be strong in history. He’s not strong in geography. We’re both strong in grudge holding, but I think he’s got me beat. He mutters “England” in the same voice I utter “Derek Jeter.”
That’s my kid.
England, you better watch your back.
by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . April 23, 2010 . 3:06PM
Dear opposing team VOLUNTEER DAD coach,
Last night, as I sat in the rain to watch my 9-year-old play, after my full day of practicum and class, I watched you make a donkey of yourself. You made me really angry, so what I am about to say is probably going to shock you and several other people, but I’ve had a really bad several months and you know what they say about my give a flip…it’s busted.
When you ran over to the umpire to not just chastise him for a call, but yell at that 17-year old kid because of the placement of the glove on the little kid’s chest, it was all I could do not to take my super strength golf umbrella and define “rip him a new one” for you without using google. Do you know what that phrase means? It means that you can push a 17-year-old kid around, but you are modeling behavior for my 9-year-old kid. Not doing the same poor behavior in front of him is the only thing that stopped me from showing you that you cannot bully everyone.
In the South, they call what you did “showing your ass” and sir, you certainly did. For the rest of the game, the parents did not focus on their children. They nervously bit their lips and watched your reactions. You were the free entertainment. Your own child, whichever poor soul he was, was certainly not focused on the game.
I have dealt with people like you before and let me tell you, they get what they deserve. Maybe not on a little league field, but in life. The manager who browbeat her staff got fired hardcore and couldn’t find a job for months. Karma is a very real thing. Last night, we all got a nice little treat of how you act, but the worst part of it was that we saw what your family puts up with on a regular basis and we felt for them.
It might be time to relax, my friend. Strokes and heart attacks are not to be messed with. Deep breathing and some time at the spa might do you, and the rest of us by proxy, some good.
Sincerely,
Me
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by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . April 6, 2010 . 3:02PM
There were once some hippie parents that lived down a well-kept knoll. And on the well-kept knoll lived a pair of fun loving parents who adored their only child immensely. This child was a sweet-natured, sensitive child who generally kept to himself, but adored going to visit some of the neighborhood children.
The only child would go down the well-kept knoll to the house of the children of a divorced home who were well-adjusted and liked the only child a great deal. They treated him well, for the most part, with few spats.
However, the hippie parents were those permissive kind. You know, the kind whose kids would NEVER do anything to hurt a fly and who can stay out as late as they want and burn puppies. The kind of parents who raise little smart alecks who don’t have a problem talking tough and being mean to sensitive little only children by throwing water on them while they are playing their mom’s very expensive Nintendo DS. Or who throw stuff at the fun loving dad’s new Honda Element that he loves more than whiskey. Or who ring the doorbell just to upset the four precious, beloved dogs who live in the house and then run away so the fun loving mom can’t smack them in their fool head.
So, the knoll has become volatile as the fun loving dad has sent email after email only to have hippie dad say “boys will be boys” and “I don’t take secondhand information as fact.”
So the fun-loving mom is keeping her eye out. And the hippie parents are gonna get smacked in their hippie heads and the hippie kids are gonna get hit with fun loving paint balls that the fun loving mom is going to go out and buy this weekend because private property is private property and a hippie kid looks an awful lot like a fox or a coyote.
Little hippie brats.
And we’ll all live happily ever after.
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by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . September 17, 2009 . 8:39PM
Everyone knows that I have anger issues when I drive. Kristin has mentioned that she misses driving with me and is reminded of this when she hears someone going off while driving. Baby on Board signs can send me over an edge.
However, I think that my time being out in the schools for my practicum is softening me up a bit.
Tonight, on the way home from school, it was lightly raining. One thing about Nashvillians that I can’t say anything positive about is the way that they drive in the rain. It’s like the grandfather Sunday driver who has taken his sleeping pills. It’s just that bad.
I was behind one such driver at a stoplight close to my home tonight. Generally, I’m in a rush to get home after being gone all day, but I was pretty mellow tonight. The car behind me wasn’t and, when grandpa didn’t get going, the person behind me honked LOUDLY and LONGLY. Is longly a word? Long-ing-ly is a word. I digress.
Normally, the point that the person honks at me is the point where I glare and start telling them all kinds of things in the privacy of my car. Tonight, I just looked at them and said, “I don’t have any idea why you are honking at me. I’m not the line leader.”
I’m not the line leader.
It didn’t even click for about 30 seconds what I’d said aloud.
Go ahead. I have no defense. Say what you will. I’m losing my edge.
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by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . August 25, 2009 . 10:07AM
Some days, you have those days where you feel like you didn’t realize you were ever in the lead, but everyone you know or don’t know is throwing blue shells at you like a massive dodge ball session. I recently had one such day.
After a fitful night of sleep, I woke up and got dressed and SHELL I had a migraine.
Leon was going out of town, so we decided to meet for lunch. On the way there, I bumped the side of my tire rim on a parking block. SHELL
I had an hour between lunch and a doctor’s appointment, so I went to the dollar tree for a little non-harmful retail therapy. I actually needed some toilet bowl cleaner (WOOO!), so it was productive. Until a woman in the cheeseball aisle walked directly up to me and burped in my face. And not a polite, oopsy burp. A full on sailor belch. I almost vomited. SHELL
When I got to the doctor, I sat in one of the 30 available seats and an old man came in and sat right next to me. Within 3 minutes, I heard a nasty noise, felt a small vibration on the connecting seat and it began to stink really, really bad. Then it happened again. And again.
The old man next to me was pooping in a diaper. Right next to me.
He turned to me and grinned.
He did it on purpose.
SHELL
More stuff happened, but I think that pretty well takes the cake.
When I picked up A.J. from school, we went to Sonic. I got a Route 44 (super huge) Sweet tea and got him a shake. I needed it.
If anyone feels the need to come sit right next to me, when there are 30 available chairs and burp in my face or poop, they can go shell themselves.
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Home
During the summer months, there are some days where I have so few clients that AJ doesn’t have to attend his summer program and he is allowed to come hang out with me at the office. My friend Meggan is doing her practicum with us and he thinks Meggan hung the moon. He hangs out with Meggan or plays his Nintendo DS and I see clients while he avoids going to the summer program he claims is boring him and rotting his brains out. Hardly. The summer program does cool things like going to Jump Zone and swimming and playing games. But AJ is a momma’s boy and that little guy would rather be in close proximity to me than most anything in the whole world. When asked what he’d liked to do for vacation if he had one week, with the thought of Disney World being an option and anything else in the whole United States being the other option, he replied “Go to NeeNee’s because we PARTY.” He has no idea what he’s passing up and we love family time. 
Life is like a game. We all have challenges, thoughts, opinions and beliefs. Often, it feels like something out there, life, karma, catty people, or blue shells (for the Kart lovers), seeks to bring us down. Luckily, we always get up. This is where I wear my heart on my sleeve and my foot in my mouth.
