An Anne Shirley of a First Co-op

Finding a dead rat in the custard.
Accidentally getting her best friend drunk.
Jumping on an old lady in the dark.

 

Anne Shirley of Green Gables fame found herself in the middle of all sorts of scrapes.  Some were the result of negligence, a few of pride, others pure dumb luck.

I’ve always identified with Anne because of my life of scrapes.  As an introvert, I usually keep my scrapes to myself.

I find comfort in hearing about the scrapes of others, though, so it seems only fair to share some of my humiliations as well.  For the sake of others.  The only way I’m brave enough to do this is through the use of weather euphemisms.

 

 

 

***If you are offended by motherly gore, now is the time to quit reading.  Have a nice day.  Better luck next time.

 

Today was our first day of an official co-op with rules and order.

Cee had a lovely time!  Elle had a lovely time!  Moe was difficult.  Bea survived.

Me?

I didn’t make it.

Almost.

I’ve been dealing with lady-ness for about 20 years now, and this is the worst it has ever been.  I’ve been borderline going to seek medical attention due to the torrential precipitation these past couple days…but maybe that’s normal after lots of babydom?

If we hadn’t had co-op, our little family wouldn’t have had school today.  It would have been a “comparative literature” kind of day, where we watch movies based on books and pretend it’s educational.  (Do not fear for the educational security of my children, we’ve been doing school for longer than the public school kids.)

But I had to teach art.  So off we went to co-op, and I was prepared for the weather.  We just got back from a vacation, so I only had one pair of clean capris.  I thought about wearing a dress, but I didn’t want to get paint all over it from our projects.  So by default my capris won.

There was a 20 minute drive.  I visited the bathroom right before leaving and right when we arrived.

In that time, I messed my pants.   We’re talking hurricane here.  All preparation ahead of time was for naught.  Thus, I was faced with the awkward choice between announcing my situation to everyone I met or pretending that I didn’t know.

I pretended.  I don’t like pity.  And who needs dignity?  What should have been a day’s worth of supplies barely lasted three hours.  I had bigger issues than dignity and grace.

It didn’t help that there were moms there who looked beee-autiful, composed, and professional.  Did I mention I was wearing C-team (now) stained capris and crocs?

The actual art part went fine.  I put a blanket over the chair I was sitting on.  (Subtle, right?) We read Beautiful Oops and did some imaginative, open-ended painting and ripped paper art.  Aside from my classroom being a bit ovenish, the preschoolers, kindergarteners, first graders, and second graders seemed to enjoy getting messy.

Through it all I was a hot, sweaty, stinky, mess.  Like the Quasimodo of homeschooling moms, I lumbered to the bathroom about twenty times, embarrassed every time I met someone.  “How’s it going?”  some lovely, unsuspecting person would ask.  “Grawwwww!” I’d moan back, “Brwwwwwww!” trying to muster up a smile.

I could practically see their thoughts, “Was that even English?!?!  How did she get past the background check?!?!”

Oh, man.  No wonder it’s so hard to make friends.  I spent all my free time stalling  (Get it?  “Stalling?”) and trying not to die.

Sigh.

Should we go back?  Will they let us back?  I don’t even know.  Why is being a grown up so hard?  Anne Shirley got through the broach incident and accidentally dying her hair green.  I’m not sure what lesson I can learn from this…

Instead of figuring that out, I’m going to convince the kids to watch the Sound of Music.  We don’t own the movie adaptation of Anne of Green Gables, so solving the problem of Maria will have to do.

If you’re still reading this, please send sympathy chocolate.  Turns out pity is okay when it involves chocolate.  Or should I send you chocolate to apologize for you having read this?  At any rate, chocolate is the answer.

Brwwwwwwww!