Creepy Notes

Little Man can be pretty forgetful when it comes to…well, anything, but especially bringing home his homework and important papers. Kids are forgetful. Kids with ADHD are super forgetful. Kids with ADHD that have moms and dads who are scatterbrained as hell are super forgetful times infinity. Science knows this to be true.

So, the boy has a presentation due next month, and his teacher sent out a text message telling the parents to review the rubric. I checked Little Man’s bag, and there was no rubric to be found.

“Where’s the rubric?” I asked.

“What rubric?” he responded.

“The rubric for your project.”

“What proj–oh, I don’t know. Maybe I lost it?”

“Well, maybe you better find it and bring it home tomorrow,” I told him.

“The teacher said if we lost it that we can’t have another one.”

“Find it.”

The next day came, and he didn’t have his rubric, nor did he remember to look for it. The day after, I put a post-it note on his binder reminding him to bring it home. Still, nothing.

“If you don’t look for it tomorrow and ask the teacher about getting another one if you can’t find it,” I told him, “then there’s no screen. At all. Got it?”

Nothing came home and he lost screen. The next two days he was out since we went to Great Wolf Lodge. On the Thursday night before he went back to school, I put more post-it reminders in his bag so that he’d have no excuse of forgetting.

First I put one on his binder. I put another in his folder. Another post-it replaced the bookmark in the book he was reading. Another went in his pencil pouch. Yet another was taped to the handle of his backpack. And the last one was taped to the top of the inside of his lunchbox, so that when he opened it, the note was hanging down in front of his food.

One that didn’t get tossed.

Guess what? The rubric was found and brought home.

“Mom, you know that was kind of creepy,” Little Man told me after coming home. “There was the first note and then the second note, and I found the rubric. But I kept finding more notes as the day went on. The lunchbox not was super creepy. There aren’t anymore notes hidden, are there?”

He did find them all. And now I know what to do when he’s not bringing stuff home and taking stuff from him isn’t working — bombard him with post-it notes. Maybe even rig his sandwich container so that it kind of explodes with a hundred little post-it notes when he opens it. Paint the rock outside the school the post-it orange and put a note on there, too. Or, make a fake tattoo that looks like a post-it with the reminder on it and stick it on his arm. The possibilities are endless.


Share Your World – 44

What was your favorite subject in school?

I liked pretty much everything except geography. My brain is good at lots of stuff, but it sucks at remembering names and locations of places. All that stuff might as well be in another language. As for a favorite, it’d be a tie between English and psychology.

If you could have a servant come to your house every day for two hours, what would you have them do?

Clean my floors and bathrooms. Maybe fold some clothes, since ours gets piled up so quickly.

Where did you live when you were in the third grade of school? Is it the same place or town you live now?

I lived in the same small rural area of South Carolina that I live in now. Sam and I moved to a larger town next to our hometown for about 3 years before coming back. No, we don’t get around much.

In your opinion, list some places that are great for shopping?

Harris Teeter and Aldi are great for grocery shopping. Sam just found some Mickey Mouse shaped veggie chips that are seriously nutritious for our picky-as-hell-won’t-eat-any-veggies-except-potatoes toddler, and she likes them. For shopping outside of groceries, I prefer Target (in-store or online) and Amazon. Goodwill is also awesome.

Bonus question: What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?

I’m grateful that we survived last week. Between sicknesses and having a bunch of Halloween-related things to do, appointments, soccer, etc. I’m glad that we made it through with our sanity intact. This week I’m grateful that we don’t have so much to do. It feels nice to be able to take a breath and not run around like a chicken with my head cut off!

The Share Your World Challenge is hosted by Cee.

Things Kids Say Thursday: Conflict Resolution

It’s been a week since my last post, which was also a Things Kids Say post. Don’t worry — it’s not that I’ve run out of anything to post about other than things my kids say (although I could probably run a blog solely off that). Everybody’s been sick in my house (nothing major, just nasty colds). Again. I’m so over these school germs the kids are bringing home, and we’re only a couple months into the school year.



Now that I have the explanation for my lack of posting out of the way, on to one of the funny things my kids said.

I’ve probably mentioned how much we like The Office in this household (or have referenced the show in some way) as many times as I’ve mentioned That Band Who Shall Remain Nameless. Little Man is a fan, too, because he’s awesome like that.

Last week, Little Man came home from school complaining about having a bad day in his GT program (which is in the same building at his regular school). I was concerned and asked what happened.

“The teacher said no more Pokemon. Can you believe that? No more cards, nothing at all with Pokemon on it.”

“How come?”

“Because the principal said it’s banned. He said too many parents were calling about cards going missing or getting taken or bad trades, and instead of just saying, ‘Hey, y’all, stop calling me,’ he decided to ban Pokemon. Forever.”

“Hmm. That makes sense. He runs your school and the GT program, so he probably doesn’t have a lot of time to spend on Pokemon cards,” I told him.

Little Man sighed. “Do you think we could do Michael Scott’s conflict resolution with them so we can all be happy?”

If you aren’t familiar with The Office, or haven’t watched each episode a dozen times, he’s referencing an episode where manager Michael Scott decided to resolve conflicts in the office in what he thought was a more effective manner than what his HR guy was doing.

I guess LM missed the part where Michael’s style of resolving conflicts only made things worse.

I held back my laughter. “Are you suggesting that maybe we take a picture of a Pokemon card, put it on a shirt, and have your principal wear it? That way he gets what he wants and you guys still get to see something with Pokemon on it. Win-win-win.”

He wasn’t amused.


So, what’s up in your world? Anything funny you want to share?

I Made A What?

When you were in school, didn’t you just love the satisfaction of having a test or report returned to find a good grade on it? Seeing an “A+” or “100” in the bright red ink that teachers are now discouraged from using was nice. I’d always get a little pumped up, because dork, until a friend would ask how I did, and then I’d try to downplay things, as people are generally not fans of overachieving dorks.

In my freshman year of college, I had one teacher who ruined good grades for me. I’m pretty sure he crushed my overachieving spirit and turned me into the “doesn’t meet her potential” woman I am today. (Just kidding — the last part was all me.)

Dr. David taught pre-Civil War American History. Dr. David taught at 8:00 AM. Dr. David had a voice that could lull even the fussiest of babies asleep.

Dr. David also didn’t believe in traditional grades.

On my first test, I received a grade of a B++. “What the fuck?” I thought to myself. I knew Dr. David from the School Improvement Council I served on in high school (did I mention I was a dork?), so I didn’t hesitate to ask about the odd grade.

“Is this a B-plus plus?” I asked, thinking my eyes were deceiving me.

“It is,” he said. “Did you want to talk about why you received it?”

I shook my head. “No. What does a B-plus plus mean?” I asked. The cutoff for a B was an 89, so where did a B-plus plus leave me? If it’s at a 90, it should be an A.

“Well, it’s a B-plus plus,” he responded. “It’s better than a B-plus.”

Surely he was making a joke that I didn’t get. Maybe the extra plus was an accidental scribble, so he was being a dick to me for asking. Except for he’d always seemed like a super nice guy.

“Okay. So is this basically like an A-minus?” I asked.

“Kind of,” he answered. “But it’s a B-plus plus.”


I gave up and thanked him for his time and left. As it turned out, I wasn’t the only person who received a confusing grade. My friend received a C- -, for example. That sounds like a D, except for it’s not. It was a C-minus minus. Some students asked about the grading system in class, and Dr. David’s answers only confused us even more. For example, did you know that a B-minus plus is not actually a B (because you’d think the minus and plus would cancel each other out)? Nope, that’s a good ol’ B +-. Is your brain broken yet?

At the time, I was someone who recorded every single grade into a spreadsheet, assigned it the weight the grade carried towards my overall grade, and tracked my score for each class. And I could not do that with Dr. David’s scoring system. It drove me fucking nuts.

At one point in Dr. David’s class, we had to do a book report on a novel that was written before the Civil War. As any hard working student would do, I searched my floppy disks for something I had written in high school. (Yes, floppy disks!) I found my report on The Scarlet Letter I had written in 10th grade and decided to use that rather than, ya know, read a book and write another report. After changing a few things (like grammar shit and the year), I was good to go. We had to do a 10 minute meeting with Dr. David in his office to discuss our reports, which would be factored into our grades, but I figured I’d be fine. Gotta love the confidence of an 18-year-old.


Only my 10 minute interview turned into 50. As it turned out, Dr. David’s favorite book was The Scarlet Letter, and he was thrilled that a student liked it enough to report on it, so he was excited to discuss. He even had notes of things to discuss.

“Maybe I should just come clean,” I thought after the first few minutes. The book was pretty memorable — preacher, infidelity, public shaming, bastard kid — but it would probably become pretty clear that I hadn’t recently read or written the report to someone who was that enthusiastic.

Wanna know the good thing about Dr. David being super fucking enthusiastic about The Scarlet Letter? The discussion was mostly one-sided. He was tickled to tell me every single thought that had ever crossed his mind about that book. All I had to do was nod along, act super fucking enthusiastic to hear tidbit after tidbit, and make a few intelligible comments. When it was over, you could tell that the meeting really made his day.

“I just knew you would be a promising student,” Dr. David told me on the way out. Before I agreed to go to this particular university, I was offered several small scholarships to cover books, supplies, etc. Between those and my main scholarship, I had enough overage to buy a new PlayStation, so boom! Anyway, Dr. David was on the committee that decided who the small schollies went to, so I suppose he was happy to see he made the right choice.

The final grades for the report/interview were given the following week. I made a A++-.


I didn’t bother asking. I knew I’d pull an A in his class somehow, and I did. After getting our final grades back online, I saw that I ended up with a 95, which could either be a B+++, an A++– or an A.

Who’s ready for an aspirin? Lobotomy, perhaps?