The Slacker is Back....

The Slacker Is Back

Geez.....over 6 weeks since I last posted.  Its not that things haven't been funny, but they have been sort of routine?

The boy has now been here 4 months and we found out he leaves on June 29th.  It is a date I can not even put into my thought process.  When I don't like days, I remove them from my calendar.  For many years I only had about 360 days a year :]   I have finally added a few back in, but now the 29th is banished.

I think we have just been partying and celebrating since Thanksgiving.  I really have no idea how any other exchange family could have more fun than us!

Thanksgiving......
We go BIG for Thanksgiving, this year, we entertained 39 people, and for the first time, I was able to sit with my guests and actually eat a meal from a plate instead of grabbing, running and shoving in my face.  The fried turkeys came into the house and out of nowhere, the boy is standing at the turkey ready with knife and fork.   My uncle managed to get the legs pulled off and the boy began cutting the meat directly off the bird and eating it.....right off the bird.....before it was carved.  He got down to the bone and explained to me that his dad said the best parts are next to the bone.  Knife to turkey, fork to turkey on bone, fork in mouth, repeat.  I let this go on for a few minutes out of shock and awe, then we removed the boy and his knife & fork from the turkey and the kitchen.

The In Between....
Football has ended and we had a few banquets to attend because his team won their district and made it into the playoffs.  It was neat to be part of the whole experience and I even met some cool parents along the way. I still can't picture myself like one of them, you know, a parent.  My maturity level is probably that of my neice, and we have our own language.  :)  The coolest part of everything....Coach gave the boy a Varsity Letter.   Yeah, yeah, I cried.  I was so grateful to this Coach for accepting the boy on the team, letting him play a few games and then giving him a letter.  Class act all the way.  Coach...I forgive you for the Labor Day incident.  I captured his plays on video thanks to my good friend.  I posted them on his website for his family to see.  Very, very popular boy in Germany and Russia these days......they don't need to know it was 4 plays at the very end of the JV game.  It could have been the Super Bowl for me.  Sappy, me?  He also has the football jacket now, with the leather sleeves, his name, number and of course the letter on the back.  <grin>

Telling Me What To Do? WHUUTTTT?

A few weeks back I caught my annual cold.  It knocked it out of me.  The boy has two parents that are physicians and veritable pharmacopias.  This kid has  drawer filled with pills with everything imaginable.  The best part about having a full drawer is that it allows the boy to keep his clothes on the floor and the chair where they belong.  In fact, he informed me that he lives out of a basket.  <screeeeeech>.  Since his arrival, I have seen his floor twice, I think.  Fleeting glimpses.......  But, I digress.  So, he shoves a couple of boxes in my hands as I was swaying from exhaustion.  He says, "These are pills, you will take them now."  The boxes are in German, so I have NO IDEA what I am taking.  He assures me they are safe, so down the hatch!  I am writing to you now, so I survived the German Pill experiment administered by Russian Ken doll.

In Russia....

To amuse me, and because his English continues to improve at an exponential rate, the boy speaks in a Russian accent.  He often sings a couple of lines of a tune or refers to "Mother Russia",  one of those things I will never tire of....it is of the dreaded "you need to be there" kind of references.  We were in the parking lot today of the Best Buy, and somehow got on the topic of baseball bats.  He comes out with "Did you know in Russia, there are 3.5 million baseball bats and only 3 baseballs?"  Who knew.  He proceeded to say, "Most prefer aluminum because they do not break over someone's head like a wooden one would."  Good To Know!  Thanks for the tip there Uncle Eddie......

Eating Makes Me Busy, And I Am Busy Right Now

Our car conversations have become stuff of lore.  Today was no exception.  I had to take the boy back to the Doc for the 4th time in three months for a knee injury this time.  It was after school and he was starving, so he asked for McDonald's. We head to the Drive Thru and he tells me he wants that chicken sandwich with a maxi.  "A maxi?" I say.  I then went on to tell him that a maxi in this country is typically a feminine napkin or hygiene product. His face dropped, then he said I will not ask for my maxi anymore.(Maxi is a large size for a combo meal in Germany).  He took it in stride and started inhaling his food.  During the inhalation, I was saying something and out of nowhere he comes out with "Eating makes me busy, and I am busy right now."  Wow!  How does one respond to this statement?  Well, with me, I fell to pieces.

We leave the Doc's office and start talking about cereal. He says he likes the chocolate balls.  Am I four years old? I lose it again.  It doesn't take much once I am on a roll.  He then goes on to ask me why everything he says has to do with them, as he points to there.  He says" I like nuts, that means there", he then says "in Germany we refer to them as "eggs".  At this point I am not breathing, and trying desperately not to crash the car.

We get to the grocery store and he asks for his "smacks" which is Honey Smacks to you and me. I brought a box home the other day because I had a hankering for them.  He ate the box.  So, we pick up a box and he informs me that I am allowed to have some.  Thanks kid, that's awfully kind of ya.

Watch me take out my lenses!

Since the boy has decided that sight is a win/win situation, he has been diligent about getting them put in every morning.  I learned some new things about them last night.  I had no intention of learning about contact lenses, but through the tenacity of the boy, I had little choice.

We both were heading up to bed at the same time and he mentioned that he now tries to clean his lenses at night because he doesn't have time in the morning and when he puts them in dirty, they burn.  I have seen the aftermath of the burning, his eyes were a little red, puffy and clockwork orangey like. 

Since I am not a lens wearer, I have never had to deal with the routine of lenses.  He knows this and decides that last night was to be my official education on contact lenses.  He followed me around until I gave in to WATCH him remove his contact lenses.  "See!  This is how I take them out!" he proudly announces.  I stand watching the show.  He removes both of them and carefully places them in his little contact lens receptacle thing.  He continues talking about another topic,  then he looks down and says, "Oh Mah Gawd, I forget which one is which, I hate it when I do that. And you know that is baaaaaaad."  I sigh and giggle and walk away so he can go through his process of figuring out which lens is which.  I can now cross of my list of things to do before I die :  #3,456 Watch Russian Exchange Student Remove Contact Lenses.

Okay, I have 10 minutes to stand

We have instituted the use of an alarm clock to wake the boy.  We head out about 530ish to walk our dogs which takes about 45 minutes.  This takes us past our usual system of releasing the hounds on the boy at 6am to being the wake up process.

Without telling him yesterday, I snuck into his room at 5:30 and set his alarm for 6:15.  Cybil hit the ceiling. <giggle>.  It was not nice what I did, but I hadn't thought of it the night before and we all needed the exercise.  We come around the corner at 6:15, I look up at the house, no lights on.  We get back to the house, I walk upstairs to see the carnage, and the LIGHT WAS ON.  Cybil turned his own light on!  Could this alarm clock thing be working?  I have it across the room, so he needs to actually stand and take a stride from his bed without breaking his neck on whatever is all over his floor.

I yell through the door, and he responds.  I got a vocal response!  Who is this boy?  I let him know I am jumping in and will holler for him in 5 so he can then jump into his shower.  Like clockwork....

On the way to school, he explained what the alarm did to him initially. After he got it shut off, the numbers registered in his brain.  Oh, 6:15, that gives me 10 more minutes before I need to stand.  The mind of a seventeen year old.....

I have a good tongue

We were at the Wawa on one of our now infamous candy bar runs.  In the store, as he is holding 3 King Size Hershey Almond bars, he informs me that Chocolate Milk is not in fact healthy lifestyle, then proceeds to select the chocolate milkshake and asks me what thickness he should choose.  huh?

He has told me on multiple occaisons that he has a good tongue.  Translation:  I have a good palette.  Really?  This from the boy who insists that Coke and Pepsi taste EXACTLY alike, that there is no difference.

Last night we managed to get into a great discussion over onions.  I made Salmon that had a chimichurra sauce.  There are scallions in the sauce.  I comment on how happy I was to see him eat something Mexican.  He said he would if not all mexican food had beans and onions.  *sigh*  I said to him there were onions in the chimichurra sauce that he just had on his salmon.  "NO!  There are not, I would know this, I have a (pointing at it now) vewy good tongue"  I pull out the ingredients and there are in fact scallions in the sauce, but these are NOT onions.  These are what they eat in the motherland while drinking vodka, therefore they are not onions.   Just in case you did not know that, well, thanks for reading...because now you do.

The Boy and the Bus

As it turned out,  it wasn't a sucker bet.  The boy made the bus yesterday.  This was after quite a bit of strategic planning on his part.  I am quite impressed with the thought processed he employed. 
First, he went to his locker BEFORE his last period so he would have his jacket and would not have to go to his locker after and subsequently miss the bus.  Next, he looked up and down the row (mind you his bus is on the edge of the circle, EVERYDAY) he picked a bus to get on and asked the bus driver if she could show him where bus #31 was.   He said she stared at him for a few seconds, looked around and let him know that he was in fact standing on it.  Hence, the boy made the bus and I would have won the sucker bet.

The boy's eyesight is not fabulous, he has contacts and glasses.  As it turns out, he never put his lenses in for the first 3 weeks of being here. So NY, Philly, and many other places we visited were literally a blur.  Our last visit to NY was a completely different experience, well, because he could SEE it.  Now whether he had his lenses in or not yesterday, I can not recall, I would like to think that he didn't considering he got on his bus without noticing the big number RIGHT NEXT TO THE DOOR.  Okay, enough said on this subject.  Let's see what happens today.

Healthy Lifestyle

Football has come to an end, and it is bittersweet.  The kids made it to their first playoff game ever and they hung in with a monster of a team for the first two quarters at least.  I could tell the boy was struggling a bit with the closure, but I think as of this morning, it has passed.

All of the sudden, he can come right home from school!  This means a few things, the first is catching the bus.  His bus is always the first bus parked on the edge of the school semi-circle.  Yet, on the 3 occasions this year that he actually NEEDED to catch the bus, he could not find the big, yellow, 30ft beast that was number 31.  ?  Today, he must catch the bus.  I was at lunch with my gal pal and asked her if she would make a bet that he does not find his bus.  She said, "That is a sucker bet my friend, and I do not make sucker bets."  He's gonna be walking home today, I know it.  I will get a text or a call to see if I can scoop him up, but I have meetings that will be interfering with said pickup.

Other things he will be able to do now that football is over.  SLEEP!  Yes, the ever elusive SLEEP!  1pm on the weekends is not late enough. We left the boy to his own devices yesterday to go to a birthday party.  This means he must feed himself. We leave the pancake paraphernalia on the counter for him, but on this day, he skipped the pancakes and went right to the Tuxedo cake.  5 layers of cakey, moussey, chocolatey goodness.  1/2 of the cake was left, 1/2 of the cake was eaten for breakfast.   BUT!!!!  It was washed down with Orange Juice, therefore it is part of his often talked about HEALTHY LIFESTYLE.  Now, the kid is 6'4", and while in football could consume 4000 calories a day.  He has an insatiable sweet tooth, one that I have never seen the likes of.  We have taken to "candy bar" runs to the Wawa so he can get his two King Size Hershey bars with Almonds.  This is accompanied by Orange Juice to make it, yes,  "A Healthy Lifestyle."  We are currently going through 4-6 jugs of Valencia orange juice a week.  We are also going through 6-8 King Size candy bars a week, not including other treats like the Twinkie, The Oreo Double Stuff cookie, and assorted cakes, etcera.   

He will not eat any cooked vegetables, mashed potatoes or anything that has onions.  For a person that could eat an onion raw, this has presented its significant cooking challenges.  I now make roasted potatoes, at least 4 times a week.  Scrubbing, peeling, chopping and mixing.  I used to love roasted potatoes, now....not so sure.  One of the host mothers told me that she never made a special meal for the kids, they either eat what they get or they don't eat.  I tried that for about 30 seconds and I caved.  Weak, I am weak I tell ya.  So, for the time the boy is here, I will continue to make two meals so I can get my veggies and he can get his healthy lifestyle of chocolate and orange juice.

Lost In Translation....

There have been a few phrases the boy has used that we have had to curtail for fear of response from others around him.  There are others that are so endearing, they need to be shared.

1. Where is my handy?
Translation:  Where is my cell phone?

2. Where is my nuts?
Translation: Where is Virginia? (one of our dogs)

3. Singing the pancake song every morning.
"Pancake, Pancake, Pancake Time!  WooHooHoo! Pancake Time!"

I received this text yesterday accompanied with the picture:

"Ralphie is helping me cleening my room :D" 

I will be adding on phrases as they come flying out of his mouth.....

Morning Squirrels, The Wheelchair, Coney Island Protests

Morning Squirrels

It's funny, each morning after the pancakes, making the lunch and getting his schoolbag together, you'd think we have a good routine.  This morning started out almost the same way, other than he was walking out the door with no shoes on.  He was moving the speed of molasses, so he had to down the pancakes at record speed.  We are now eating them stacked, but cut into perfect squares or rectangles to satisfy is OCD with symmetry and equal parts.  We head to the car and we are at the gate when a very long arm shoots over my head, and the boy yelling "Squirrel Those things are craaaazzzzy!  It's going to be a good day"  I had to agree.

We always have good conversations in the car; or more like me running down my mental list of all things we didn't accomplish the night before.  He mentioned that we are a "well oiled machine" and that we have found a good routine.  I think during the week, that is sorta true, but I like to pride myself on the fact that we truly are anything but routine.  Take the past two weekends.......we were in NYC.

The Wheelchair

A good friend had ACL surgery and is laid up in her tiny NOHO apartment for about 6 weeks.  The boy has adopted her as his big sister here in America and wanted to go visit to make sure she was ok.  Last weekend, we did and when we arrived we promptly had a milkshake delivered to her apartment for him. Your in New York, what else should you be doing....Empire State Building, Times Square...no, we had a milkshake delivered.  As I digress.....this past weekend we went back up for a visit but took along a wheelchair so we could get her out and about and head over to Brighton Beach for some AWESOME Russian food and a stroll on the boardwalk.  My friend was trying to use her crutches down the street so the boy started pushing himself in the wheelchair, down the street, into a streetsign, then skidding almost into a car door because he didn't know the thing had breaks.  The kid has a 34" inseam. That is some long legs, how it had not occurred to him to use them before hitting the car is far beyond my comprehension.  We grabbed him just in time.  Meanwhile, we have exchange student #2 with us. He is 15 and from Germany and has NEVER been to New York, or Philly or any big city for that matter. His village is in what was East Germany and has a whopping 1000 people.  Welcome to NY kid, here how about a ride in a wheelchair.

Brooklyn

The weekend before, as I mentioned, the boy and I were in NYC and headed over to Brighton Beach and had one of the best meals EVAH.  So, we loaded up the 6 of us and drove to Brooklyn to check out the beaches and eat some GOOD FOOD!  Brighton Beach is about a mile down the boardwalk from Coney Island.  We decided to head that way, then come back up and have some lunch. It was a brisk and sunny day and the boy was content pushing his big sister down the boards while #2 was taking it all in.  We came upon a protest!!!  We joined the protest!!!  Coney Island was bought up by Luna Park and they are shutting down businesses that have been there for over 70 years.  The boys got signs and T-shirts that said Save Coney Island and I bought out everything fried for them to try.  This included:  Corn Dogs, Shrimp, Chicken Strips, French Fries and Funnel Cake.  All washed back with Cokes.  NICE.

After this show, we decided we needed to get back to some normalcy and head into Times Square to watch it light up as the sun went down.....after #2 had yet to experience this........

Scientific Experimentation

The boy has a thing for coagulated something on his plates or griddle.  Take a look at this 3 day old science experiment I found in his room last night.  They were rosemary potatoes in butter an oil.  Now, they are a potential home for creepy crawlies with huge gnashing teeth.

Ewwwwwwwwwwww.

Testosterone Overload and I'm Bitchy

It was Thursday night and we were all hanging out at the house.  I said something snide about his "research" on women's brains and he promptly opens up his laptop to "find a word" to capture what he wants to say.  You should check out http://www.dict.cc/ the next time you have an exchange student living with you.  You can type in a word and it will SAY it back to you.  He was bent about my commentary so all of the sudden I see him hitting a key on his laptop and "Bitchy, Bitchy, Bitchy, Bitchy,  Mean, Mean, Mean, Mean, Nasty, Nasty, Nasty, Nasty" come out of his speakers while he is falling to pieces laughing.  "I could not think of the right words, but my computer helps me" he says.  epic fail.

264Pancakes, Symmetry and Boys are Smarter than Girls

The Pancake Count

We are now up to 264 pancakes made and eaten.  The boy made his own yesterday and proudly displayed how clean the counter was and that no carnage left behind, including strange clear liquids.  As I have posted in the past, these mornings with the boy and his pancakes are still among my favorite, our conversations, although short are often poignant, like the one the other day.  I pick at him because of his need for all things to be equal, he is a waffle.  I, on the other hand, like odds and all things swirly, I am spaghetti.

The boy has a tendency towards symmetry and order even with his pancakes (although not by his bedroom that is now a repository for pantry items and dirty laundry) He puts all four pancakes in its own corner, then proceeds to put a dollop of syrup in the middle of each and spreads it evenly over each pancake.  THEN he uses his knife and delicately slices through each one.  I had given him a bit of a ration on this, so he rebelled and started cutting them into triangles and other odd shapes to prove he wasn't so stiff.  To add more drama, I caught him eating them STACKED.  It was a moment that was fleeting, he is back to his four corner methods of pancake consumption.

Breakfast Conversations

I bet you didn't know that men can back into parking spaces better than woment because of their ability to picture 3D geometric images in their minds.  I had no idea either.  Now, granted I can not park into a regular parking spot straight to save my life, but I can fit my car into ANY parallel parking situation.  I am that person you hate in the parking lot.  But according to the boy, there is a chunk of female brain that just doesn't process that imagery quite as well, hence our inability to park.  He learned this on a German television show called Galileo, therefore it must be fact.  So ladies, give it up on the visualizing the parking space because we are physiolgically incapable of accomplishing such a feat.

Proceed with caution.....

This post will be offensive to some because of the language, so if you are offended by cuss words, please read no further.  There is also an ulterior motive to this post.  As soon as I started to blog, the Phillies started to rally.  The boy just ordered me back to the computer to keep blogging and said I really should blog about this topic with the rider that I make sure that people know he is big strong Russian, which he truly is.

So here it goes, against my better judgement....

There are a few words in the English language that I never use.  One of those happens to be pussy.  So, it is inexplicable that on two different occaisions, I have called the boy a pussy.  I had a couple of drinks in me and at that moment it came flying out of my mouth.  Thank goodness he is a strong Russian boy with thick skin and high confidence, because calling your exchange student a pussy is pretty reckless.  But to do it twice, is unconscionable, yet we were both falling to pieces about it about 5 minutes ago.

So, the first offense came two weeks ago during our Roktoberfest party.  We had to lift his bed to get the trundle out from underneath.  We were both on our knees, I start lifting the bed and he starts pulling out the trundle, I don't know what happened, but I think he got scared that his fingers would get caught, he pulls away and screams like a little girl.  I respond, "Dude, stop being such a pussy and pull the bed out." He response, " Did you just call me a pussy?", "I am no pussy, I am a big strong Russian/"  I say, "then put those big strong Russian fingers on the trundle and pull the damn thing out!"  Then I can't believe what just flew out of my mouth.  My mother is turning over in her grave right now, and my father is falling to pieces laughing hysterically...I can feel it  :)

Situation #2.  Last weekend his exchange student buddy from Germany came down to hang out and sleep over.  We start talking about Cybil and how long it takes him to shower and get ready for school.  He has stayed in the shower for 40 minutes. At which time I say its because he is a pussy.  SCCREEEECHHH!  Did I just say that again and in front of his friend.  I can understand if I have just lost any respect from any of the readers of this blog now.  I am a horrible host mom for doing this...but thank goodness he thinks this is hilarious enough to post.  We are so lucky to have this kid here......

Who are you and what have you done with my Cybil???

What Have You Done With My Cybil?

We have had a strange phenomenon going on in the house.  Cybil is rising on his own, with only the initial wake up lickies by the doggies.  We send them in, then 10-15 mins later, we hear the shower go on.  More freaky is when he says Good Morning to me when I send the dogs in.  WHAT IS HAPPENING?

Milky Ways

So the week has been one of routine,  but he is finding his sass and the back and forth has begun.  Take for instance Milky Ways.  An American invention, even better frozen...but yummy chocolate and caramelly goodness, amirite?  It comes in a brown wrapper with green lettering.  Probably facts that never really stood out to you.  Apparently in Germany, it is not like this.  They are purple with stars and moons, and galactic type styling.  The only thing I can compare it to is the freak-a-deak buffet at the PepperMill casino in Reno, NV.  It is a mixture of mirrored tables,  black carpet with neon moons, star bursts, milky way galaxies and surrounded by a rain forest with a soundtrack including the occasional thunderstorm, including flashing lightening.  If you are on cocaine, you would not make it out alive...but I digress.  We had to make an emergency chocolate run to the Wawa last night and that is when it started with him and the BWOWN wrapper.  The Russo-German accent really needs to be captured here and it is difficult in print.  But Bwown and Green?  He holds up his hands in complete shock .  How can you eat something in a bwown wrapper?  This brings me to the pool scene in Caddyshack.....but that was a Baby Ruth........noonan.

Wodka

We then move on to a classic Russian topic, Wodka.  Here's a good joke...what is a 7 course meal to an Irishman?  A six pack and a potato.  Its like that with Wodka and Russians.  We are walking out to the car this morning for school and we are on the topic of martinis, James Bond and Wodka.  The boy is allowed to drink in Germany, so it has been quite an adjustment for him here. In particular this week because his buds are all on vacation this week,  apparently twisted every day and FB'ing letting him know it. He actually said he was homesick, which is rare.  Well the comment flies out of his mouth in deep Russian accent,  "Wodka, 100% Russian"   At 7am, I have no comment, but I do have a whole lot of giggle.

Healthy Lifestyle

So for the past week, he has been living a "healthy lifestyle"  I am still trying to figure this out because his healthy lifestyle includes cakes, oreos, pizza, pancakes, etc.  The healthy lifestyle really means that he has stopped drinking soda in lieu of 6 half gallons of Valencia Orange Juice a week.  I think in the movie Trading Places you could buy Orange Juice concentrate crops on the exchange, if only that were the case........

Choking on Volvic


There is a very popular spring water in Europe called Volvic. He has mentioned to me a few times about the Volvic, so I found it today at the market.  He screamed like a little girl when he saw it on the counter, hugged it and then asked if he could have some.  He is drinking his bottle of Volvic, starts to choke and says there is something wrong with American Volvic, it makes him choke.  No, darling, when you drink it like a drain, it could induce a level of choking.


Football


OK...so sappy host mom comments coming....  The boy had his JV game on Monday.  He got in to play!  My girlfriend and I were there at 3:30 in the afternoon to hope he was put in.  Remember, 8 weeks ago this kid thought the receiver was the QB.  Well, in the 4th quarter, he was put in!!!  We ran down the stands with a Flip video and my camera and he did really, really well. He went in as an offensive Right Tackle!!!! My eyes welled up and I almost cried I was so proud.  The best part was his team cheering him on and not one of them could pronounce his name.  It was priceless.......

In house texting, I got Skillz, The All-Nighter and Aunt Jemima is the clear winner

The Coolness of Texting "In-House"

After the pancake debacle and football practice he went up to Skype with his dad back in Germany.  I took up his dinner so he could eat and catch up with his pops.  This is about 6:15, and he has a research paper due the next day, 4-5 pages long.  He is quite stressed about it because the dog had kept him in bed until 10:30 that morning.  The boy has never had to write a research paper, let alone in MLA style.  fail.

It is now 7:30, he is still upstairs chatting with his dad, and I know this has disaster written all over it. I text him, suggesting that maybe NOW would be a good time to start that pesky research paper.  I get texted back, " Yes, ill be down in a second....its so cool to text you knowing you are downstairs :D" 

Mad Skillz For the Host Mom

I had a bunch of work work I had to finish last night at home.  I was working on a Powerpoint presentation and he came around to see what I was doing.  It has some bells and whistles, but usable ones, not WordArt or crap like that.  He says, "Wow, that's cool, you have some usable skills. My dad doesn't even know what powerpoint is."  His parents and I are the same age, they are doctors, but I have mad skillz cuz I can powerpoint....BOOYAH!

The Paper Begins

In a past life, I had to complete a Master's thesis, so helping a Russian kid write a research paper should be a piece of cake, right?  Eh, no.  When you write a thesis, part of the skill set does not including catching gnats.  I get his structure set up and tell him to have at it.  We mindmap out his concepts and he has his organization ready to go. It is 10:30 by this point, I am whooped so I tell him to text me upstairs if he needs help.  He never texts, but I am up most of the night listening for him anyway.......

Pancakes

So, he was up til 3:40am writing this paper and he looks like death.  He is exhausted, but the kid got it done, and he did a really amazing job for never writing a research paper .  I had been up at 5 to proofread, but I had yet to eat breakfast and we needed to run out the door.  I stole part of his Bisquick pancake.  I had never actually eaten any of the 346 pancakes I have made him over the past 7 weeks.  Bisquick sucks.  I ask him which he prefers and he said definitely Aunt JAMIMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAA.  So, we are going back to the red box.  He said that during the night a few times he was going to text me that he had given up on life and this paper. He also said he bounced back nicely when he had some oreos and pop tarts, that he actually toasted the pop-tarts.   NICE......the gnat perservered and wrote an exceptional paper.  I just got a text from him now that says, "Im so tired......"  I wrote back, "I have no doubt, you will survive, you are strong like big Russian Ox."

Tonight = Sleep

The Great Pancake Massacre & The Conspirator Dog

17 year old Russians Boys and Their Pancakes.....

If you read the previous blog post, then this one will make perfect sense.  As earlier stated, the boy was being adventurous on his day off and texted me for pancake making directions.  Until this day, I had NO IDEA there could be such a thing as Pancake carnage.  Well, I am here to tell ya...there is.  The boy was at football practice,  when I came home to witness the aftermath of the event and try to piece together what led up to the disaster.

There were strange, unidentifiable liquids on the griddle.  Clear liquids.  Where do you get clear liquids in pancakes?  There were shards of something that resembled pancakes all over the griddle as well. The best part was that the griddle was still dirty and on the cooktop.  Along with an empty bag of Oreos on the coffee table.  Must be the markings of a 17 year old boy.

The Conspirator Pit Bull

As I am feeding the boy dinner after his football practice, he says to me, "Oh that Ralphie".  Ralphie is our 65lb lap dog who happens to be a Pit Bull.  He is very simple. So, he is part of our lick 'em to get 'em up wake  up routine.  We sent him in right before we left for work, at Cybil's request.  Yes, you read correctly, he asked to be waken up that early.  He has a ton of study and homework to catch up on since his run in with the fuzz in Buffalo.  In his own words, "He came in, licked my face and then wanted to get under....what are they called?"  "Blankets, I answered."  "Yeah, blankets, those things, then he made me go back to sleep."  I was petting him, then it was 10:30 and I needed pancakes."

Friday Freedom, No Pillows, Buffalo Cops and Pancakes on his own.....

Road Trip!

This past weekend offered a short respite from the duties of hosting our guy.   We had to have Cybil up and out the door by 6:30 am, oops...make that 7:00 am to get him on the bus to Buffalo, New York for a 4 day romp through upstate New York and Niagra falls.  I had made a mistake thinking the busses left at 7.  Cybil could have slept an extra 30 minutes.

We load the kids on, wave goodbye and I head off to work.  I get home on Friday night and have NOTHING I need to do.  I can eat cold pizza, drink adult beverages, not cook, not go to a football game or pickup from practice.  I was feeling empty nest syndrome now that the boy was away for 10 hours.  WHAT?  I was a bit out of sorts at first...but got back into my groove quickly, then around 9:30pm.....

I get my first text, "Me and Sarah skipped the dance and we are walking all over town."  I am assuming the town of Buffalo? Then at 11:33pm I get my second text from the boy, "Oh my gosh, you are not going to believe what happened".  I was asleep and got it at 5:33am the next morning.  After that, no more texts.  Thinking back to when I was 17 and what I would get into....I could only imagine.  As I have said before, this kid is not my kid, but there are many genetic similarities.......outside of his height, blond hair, russian descent...the likenesses are endless.

Saturday, nothing explaining what happened, in fact just a question on how the Phightin Phillies were doing.  OK, so he didn't get arrested and end up on the cookie sheet............or did he????  I was to find out on Monday night.....

Consolidating Down To One Bedroom

During his time away, I broke down and moved the OTHER guest room mattress into his bedroom to control the trail from room to room.  He is now securely in one room again, happy with a double bed and all the space he has. I really wish I could post a picture of the contortionist I open the door to every morning.  He doesn't use pillows, he sleeps on his arms, all diaganol, twisty like on the bed.......

The Truth Comes Out.......

Of the many events they had planned for the 200 plus exchange students during the weekend, our guy positioned himself as a sort of a leader of his group and even commandeered the TV to watch some of the Phillies game.....in BUFFALO...see, genetically, identical.  He tells me of standing directly under a part of the falls getting soaked to the bone, going shopping at the mall, and oh, yeah, getting picked up by the Buffalo Cops on Friday night for loitering.  At this point I am plugging my eyeballs back into their sockets.   It was the boy, this Sarah and a Hungarian.  They were supposed to be at the dance, instead they were walking around beautiful downtown Buffalo for 4 hours doing things teenagers do, or at least I did, AND getting escorted back to the dance by the fuzz.  Saturday night he thought it would be a great idea whilst everyone was sleeping to sneak out of the house searching for the house of Sarah.  He claims he has a sense of direction.....2 hours later he still had not found the house but managed to get back to his place of sleep.  OH MY........

Returning Back To Normal.....

The seniors at our High School had off today to visit colleges, but have to be done by 2:30 for football practice.....hmmmm..... Did we have a full day off to visit colleges when we were seniors?  I don't quite recall that.  So I get a text a few minutes ago, "Can u explain me how to make those pancake stuff?".  Love this kid!  Of course I will explain to make pancake stuff!  I send him 1-10 directions, each short, to the point.  I then get a call.  I can not find the stuff.  "Its in the cabinet next to the coat closet" I say.  "In with the dog food he says?"  "No, in cabinet next to coat closet with dog food".  "Shouldn't it say Aunt Jamama?"  "No,  I answer, "we are using Bisquick this week, and it's Aunt Jemima, long i.  He then tells me that he can start fires but not to worry, he will get dogs out and he knows how to drive cars so they will all be safe if the house burns down.  Its been about 45 mins, and I just received the text, "Yap, pretty bad, not even yours burned bad, I got complete neighborhood :p, but I saved all the dogs and cats :D  He is a superhero.

The Stinkeye, Packing For Niagra and Fireplaces

The Stinkeye

Yesterday reached epic proportinos of trying to rouse the child out of bed and into the shower.  As he slinked down the hallway, I cheered him on saying "Cybil, You Can Do It!!!!"  If looks could kill I would be dead.  That boy done give me THE STINKEYE.  Not just any stinkeye, but the Russian Stinkeye.

I get downstairs to make his breakfast and I am out of chocolate chips and blueberries.  I make the executive decision to give the boy French Toast.  He comes down the stairs like they are the marshmallow ones from Nightmare on Elm Street.  The boy was not moving at a swift pace, he was cranky and VERY LATE.  We get to school with a few minutes to spare and we get yelled at by a teacher as I pull into a spot to drop the boy off.  All of these other parents are leaving their kids in the street, and I pull into a lot and a space to be safe and I get the lashing from the teacher.  I am supposed to drop him off down the street at the township building.  WHAT?  There is not one car there dropping kids off.  I am thinking I am now going to have to drive da hubs' hoopty to be incognito to get the boy into school  OR.....I could make him take the bus!  He would have to be down the end of our street by 7am, it ain't never gonna happen.  I really have no idea what I am going to do tomorrow, but I have a feeling it might be action filled with my own 17yr old angst and fighting the machine when I was his age.  Fight The Power!  What is that teacher going to do to me? 

The Boy Goes on Vacation

The exchange student group that we are affiliated with is hosting 200 of the exchange students on a trip to Niagra Falls.  He has been incredibly excited about this since he got here.  There are girls of course that he met before he came over that live in other states, but will all be converging on Buffalo, New York this weekend.  These girls have been much of the 5000+ texts a month the boy sends and receives.  BUT FIRST, we have to get him packed.  Enter, GNAT BOY.  I need for him to stick with me, read through the agenda for the weekend and figure out what clothes he needs.  This included checking the weather.  None of this occurs to a 17 year old.  I ask him what he is sleeping in, "Boxers!" he answers because there will be girls there, and they are Hugo Boss and he loves Hugo Boss. He thinks the girls will too. <heart palpatations>.   How about No. I am thinking today might be a good day to pick up actual pajama bottoms for him.

Stoking The Fire

We ended our night with a Phillies Win, A no hitter and a fire.  We have a fireplace in our home, and we use it often.  That was one of the first things the boy noticed when he arrived.  He talked about how his father always wanted one.  It was a chilly night, so we lit our first fire.  The boy just wanted to sit in front of it and do his homework.  We spun around the recliner, put him in front of the fire and he did his homework, in between catnaps.  He also got to learn what "stoking" a fire was and add his first log.  Such simple things I never think of were are a really big deal to the boy.  It truly was endearing.  It also wore him out enough to get him in bed by 10pm, so this morning we didn't have any episodes, except with the angry teachers in the lot.......

On a Side Note......

.....Yesterday when we were on our way to school he did say we had found a routine.  I look back at our day and there is still nothing routine about us.  Today we celebrated our 6 weeks of being a host family.  Its all going by far to fast.

A 28yr old, a 38yr old and a 17 year old Russian Boy walk into Nordstrom Rack......

Playing Dress-Up

It is about 11am on Sunday, the day after our annual Roktoberfest party.  It is a big party, one that included a fire and 38 sausages up in flames 30 mins before guests arrived.  Well, the party ensued and was a lot of fun.  The carnage the next day, never fun.  It should be a day of getting stuff cleaned up and football.

 

The boy says, can we go and get my hoodies today?  <fingernails down chalkboard>

It is starting to get colder and he has noticed this.  That is kind of awesome, that the 17 year old notices something.  He has the attention span of a gnat,   and many things pass the boy by, unless its texting, cars, Iphones, or video games, his ability to stay in one lane is negligible.  So, we just HAD to go shopping yesterday for hoodies.  So what do I do?  I take him with my girlfriend in from New York to Nordstrom Rack out in King of Prussia.  DUMB HOST MOTHER, DUMB HOST MOTHER.  I would like to note that we also needed to find a white dress shirt and tie for his suit...senior pictures this week. 

There are a few issues with taking a teenage boy to Nordstrom Rack.  1. The shoe department and two women.  2. The bag department and two women 3. A very handsome 17 year old that you can dress up in ANYTHING and he looks good.  I don't know how Ken translates in Russian, but I should find out.

 He went into the dressing room with a white shirt and came out to two women holding up 5 additional shirts, a velvet lavender tuxedo jacket and a sweater, Cheshire cat grins abound. 

He hates to shop, he has told me this many times, but I saw a crack in this statement as the day wore on.........

After about 30 mins of playing dress up with our Russian Ken, (we found a couple of good shirts too, and a tie and the dress shirt by the way!) we moved about the store. We walked past the shoe section and I actually have a magnetic body that gets sucked onto shoe racks, its quite embarrassing.  But I am trying to resist when I hear, "Oh God, we have lost Elise (code name for NY friend) she is somewhere in the shoes!"  He literally turns and starts to frantically search the rows of shoes to get her out without harm.  We start ogling the shoes, and the boy holds up a stiletto to his neck right around his jugular and says. "This would be bad if I did this and hit it here" meaning, slicing the jugular with a stiletto.  We dragged Elise out , paid for our goods, then headed up to the outlets to find a hoodie. 

Russian Ken and The Shoe Incident

On many occasions Ken has told me about his mother's great love of shoes.  How she will by one bag and three pairs of shoes.  I fail to see the issue with this behavior.  So, an interesting phenomenon happened when we hit the outlets.  He saw DC shoes in the window and I could not leave the outlets to get back to the Eagles game unless he tried them on.  It is 3:45 pm, the game is at 4pm and we are 40 mins away.  Fail.

The boy who hates shoes, asked the sales guy for 3 different pairs in his size and that he would buy them all if they fit.  WHUUUUTTTTTTTTT???? So I couldn't look in Nordstrom, and his mom can't buy 3 pairs of shoes without commentary, but this is OK.  Hmmmmmm.........

Long story short, he got 1 pair of shoes because they didn't have his size.....(pictured above)

We then flew home to watch a terrible football game, clean the house and of course watch Dexter. 

On a Side Note.....

I have to mention that I had Ken try on his suit with his new tie and shirt, and I was blown away at the transformation, he looked like a sharp, handsome young man....is this how mom's feel when their kids get dressed up to go to dances and prom.  I was gushing, what is happening to me?

The Wisdom of a 17 year old boy.....



Mel's Burger Bar

 It is 8:30 in the morning and I was in NYC last night for burgers.  Yes, you read correctly, burgers. AND...to wish my friend luck as she heads to climb Everest. (minor detail)   I headed out at 4:45 and was in the big apple by 6:30, eating burgers by 8, and back on the train by 11:30, in bed by 1:30.  All this was done by the coaxing of a very wise and wonderful 17 year old who pressed me relentlessly telling me I was going to New York. 

I had been out of step with a dear old friend for sometime now.  We like to call it a seperation, because we have been in each other's lives for so long, a divorce will never happen.  So this dear friend is leaving to climb Mt. Everest tonight at 8:30 pm.  A 23 day trek up a mountain.  Without the lodge, the fireplace and someone delivering cocktails, or even a yak delivering the drinks, this is not an adventure I would ever have the cajones to embarq on . 

this is a really tall mountain........20,305feet. WOW.


My friend and I literally got back in touch at noon yesterday.  I told him about it after school and he is saying to me." Why are you not going to New York?"  "You always tell me how easy it is to get there, why are you not going right now?"  "You know you should be going to New York, right now."  "She leaves in 31 hours, you must go now."  He was right.  It was 4:45 on a rainy Thursday I ran upstairs, got changed and ran out the door.  Now, for those of you that know the PA Turnpike, Route 1 and getting into Trenton at rush hour is a nightmare, let alone a rainy one.   I did not have an ounce of traffic.  I got there in record time, got my ticket and was ready for the adventure. By 6:30, I was stepping off the train and heading to the upper west.........

This morning as the boy was eating his pancakes he looked up and said "You really looked tired." I actually looked like I crawled out of the crypt this time.  Well, its the best exhaustion I have had in a very long time and it never would have happened had this boy not pushed me out the door.

He texted me while on the train to let me know he had cleaned his room and got some things done while I was on this adventure.....really, does this kid get any better? Spacibo Cybil.  I owe you one.

The Fabulous Life of a 17 Year Old

The game of getting Cybil up in the morning continues.  My dogs are now in a conspiracy with the boy.  Where they used to jump up and commence the licking and wiggling to wake the boy, they now nudge him to move over and get them under the blankets to go back to sleep.  In addition, the time negotiation has begun.  The wakie wakie eggs n bakie starts at 6am, at which time Cybil mutters, OK 20 more minutes.  REALLY?
I jump in the shower, open up my door and find the Cybil sleeping with my useless wake up dogs....I yell down the hallway to get his Russian A** outta bed.  To no avail.  He finally emerges and slinks into the bathroom.  This happens, EVERYDAY.

This morning there was an added bonus, Cybil fell asleep while texting and when I woke him up, he still had his phone in his hand.

Other fabulous things 17 year olds do.

1. I grill him steaks.  I hand him a plate while out back with three steaks.  He takes the plate sits down on a chair out back (not one with a table mind you, just a regular patio chair) Sets said plate on his stomach and starts eating.  Had the thought ever once crossed his mind to A) Sit at a table  B) Let his host mom have one of the steaks. OF COURSE NOT.  The boy moves ONLY because there were drippings off the plate that hit his shorts so a table was a must.  He moved to the table and cleared the plate, host mom left to fend for herself.  He was incapable of carrying the plate in with said drippings...carrying it with two hands, he couldn't manage. I take the plate out of his hands, with one, without spillage and put in sink. He stands next to me at the sink as I am rinsing and says I can do that because only girls can do that. I proceeded to spray him down with my sink sprayer.  He needed a shower anyway. 

2. Cybil tried out the guest room which has an awesome mattress.  Cybil has yet to move out of guest room.  Normal room still has all things 17 years old, strewn about it and the trail has made it into the guest room.  He mentioned to me the other day how excited he was to have 2 ROOMS!!  breathe, sigh, I lost.

3. He needs a cup for football. He informs me last night that he took a shot, you know, around there.   He tells me to get the biggest one.  More information than necessary...ya THINK?

4. "What do we have planned this weekend?" , not because he cares, but because he needs to figure out how late he can sleep in.

I have to run out for lunch and buy a cup.  Host Mom Glamour at its finest.

Eating Russian

The boy was actually born in Russia.  We have a lot of Russians in this area.  I had no idea that we did, but once I googled it, I found quite a few Russian establishments around.  There was one particular restaurant that got great reviews and it was only about a 30 minute drive away.  Since the boy did not have any parties or social events on Saturday night, he was stuck with us going to a "Russian Section" complete with Cyrillic lettering and a Russian Grocery Store right next to the restaurant.

Think for a moment on how YOU would picture a Russian Restaurant.  Maybe the Russian Tea Room in NYC?  Could be exactly like that, but different.  THIS Russian restaurant had a TV with Russian Music videos piping through the restaurant.  Have you ever seen a Russian video?  I felt very at home, like it was the first two years MTV came on air, you know when they actually showed videos?  Everything was a rip off or sampled, just sang in Russian.  I also started to notice the same people showing up in different videos.  I asked the boy about this.  He said, its Russia, no one else understands what they are saying, so most won't realize it is all pirated, plus, its Russian.  Right, right, the old "I'm Russian Defense"  I am scary with leather jackets and sunglasses at midnight....I get it now......

Anyway, I had the boy order all my food, and let me tell you, I absolutely loved it.  I LOVE BORSCHT and I am not afraid to yell from the moutain tops.  I was informed by the boy, however, that the "components" (translation = ingredients) were not right.  He could tell by smelling it.  Although he won't eat it because it contains cooked vegetables. Cooked vegetables are not part of his diet, only raw (freak)  But, by the smell and look, he knew it was not like his mother's.  Well, I can not wait to taste his mother's someday because this stuff was the russian bomb diggity yo. (queue cheezy Russian Video in background)

If anyone wants to go back with me, I am totally game, whether the boy wants to go or not.  The waiter was telling us about a Russian Restaurant in Brighton Beach where the floor is one gigantic aquarium you walk on.  I wonder if they also have those pimp shoes with the little aquariums in the heels......hmmmmm....I sense a trip to Brooklyn on the Horizon.  First I must get a black leather jacket and sunglasses, a half shirt might not be a bad idea either..........

What Position?

The Germans Are Coming!

So the boy's parents friends are in from Germany.  I tell the boy, sure! have them over, they can stay here or just stop in for some nosh and drinks....no problem!  For anyone who knows ANYTHING about Germans, they are punctual and exacting.  Being late is a national crime punishable by having to drive in the right lane on the autobahn in a Yugo.

So, 4pm Sunday we get ready to welcome Dieter and Elke (real names not used to protect the innocent).  I prep a tray of tea sandwiches, peppers and cheese, a selection of champagne, beers, teas, etc.....we are ready to roll.  4:15pm, no word, no call no sign.  4:30pm, the boy is getting hungry, he knows of all the food in the fridge. 4:45pm, we start discussing eating what we prepared.  4:46pm my girlfriend, her special doberman pinscher Weber and her two awesome little boys stop in for a quick hello before they head back out to western pennsylvania.  5:00pm, no Germans, bust out the food, start chowing.  5:15pm Weber, who hasn't been able to poo in days decides the middle of my great room floor is the optimal spot and hello poopy.  5:17pm, "ALLO? ALLO?, I hear from the front door, I ask the hubs and everyone in the room, if they hear it.  With all the commotion no one else did, and I am scrubbing up poo.  Everyone runs to the front door to find the Germans.  They walk in and find me on my hands and knees wiping up poopy with a bag of it next to me.  "Hungry?  I ask."  I bet none of you ever thought for a moment that the optimal position to meet a person is on your hands and knees with poopie bags.  So chic.  So circus.  So me.

Their reaction, so German.  So, we get settled, my friend packs up the kiddies and we sit to eat.  The first thing out of the Germans mouths are, "Could you tell us a good place to eat?"  RIGHT. What about all the food in front of you?   OK, I see how this is going to go.  She then asks for coffee, so I have to drag out the maker. I of course don't put enough beans in and it comes out like water.  Elke drinks it, but I can see it goes down like razor blades.  Instead of speaking to us in English, they spent the next 30 minutes speaking in German to the boy.  Ahhhhhh......  He did tell me they asked multiple times about our ages.  We are the same age as the boy's parents, but apparently look much younger.  They could not believe how old we were.  What that has to do with the price of Turnips in Bangladesh is far beyond me.........

We sent them to our local restaurant that we love so dearly, the boy went with them.  During the time they were there, another girlfriend of mine and her dog dropped by and we were imbibing on the back patio whent hey pulled up.  Can you imagine what they are thinking?    Who are these "20 somethings" that do nothing but eat, drink and hang out with dogs? 

Pancake Update

So the great love of pancakes continues.  I have now introduced the boy to Blueberry pancakes, which I still make him every morning before school.  Who am I?  What is my name?  I am compelled to make this boy breakfast every morning. I shoo away my husband when he tries to interfere.  The boy is 17 and perfectly capable, but I am defending my breakfast turf with the boy.  Whether he is doing it because he reads the blogs or now, he comments the whole way through his Pancakes on how much he loves them.   I am cheap and easy, and I will take that.....

Googling Cybil

He also finally found out who Cybil is.   BWAHAHAHAHAHA!  13 personalities.  He googled it, he googles everything.  He now asks me for my phone while we are out so he can randomly google.

Tag Teaming To Get The Boy Out The Door.....

The 6am Ralphie alarm is not proving to be enough to wake the boy up these past few days.  We are only in our first full week of school, and for the most part, he is the walking dead.  Although he came home pretty energized yesterday, that energy definitely did not carry over to the morning.

Da hubs and I have been working on a routine without even knowing it, to get this kid out da door without him getting a late pass for homeroom at school.  He has played the poor exchange student card a couple of times and that is only going to go so far. 

5am, I get up and get ready to go running with Crazy 1 and Crazy 2.  This is to avoid anymore furniture mauling incidents.  Plus it keeps me in better shape.  I Facebook of course, then take the girls out to haul around the neighborhood.  I come back @ 6 and release the hounds into the chamber of the sleeping Cybil.  6:20, Da hubs goes back upstairs to remind Cybil that school and waking up are not an option and that he best get his ass outta bed.  6:30, Cybil emerges, bounces off some walls into the bathroom. I make lunch sandwiches, Da Hubs makes pancakes.  6:45 Cybil finally done in the shower, so I can jump in.  6:55 Da Hubs and I make the daily shopping list.  Outta meat again.

7am Cybil now turns into boy we all know, eats pancakes, grabs lunch, piles into car, and off to school we go.  Boy now in school to be picked up around 6pm......all to be done again tomorrow........

Bandages, Ice Packs, Broken Shower Heads & Exhaustion

I am back from Paris, so the blogging can commence!

My trip to Paris kicked off with a broken dishwasher, thought we got it fixed only to have the little wires and nut catch on fire after I left.  I get to talk about that mess in Paris because I can effectively manage that situation over there.  GRRRRRREAAAAATTTTT.  Also prior to leaving for my trip, the boy comes home wrapped in Saran Wrap with an Ice Pack on his shoulder.   EVEN BETTAH.  He has ripped something up in his arm, and now he gets a bit of a reprieve from practice.

THEN I get the call that while our guy is downstairs,(I am in Paris)  VirginiaBirginia is upstairs dismantling my chair because she knows there is wood to chew somewhere in that gigantic blue chew toy that mommy sat in, but has been gone a few days.  Does mommy really deserve to have a seat when she gets back since she left me?  Apparently NOT.  (I am still in Paris at this point)  Eh, meh, I sat on a plane for 8 hours, who needs to relax after that?

So the boy has now been assigned as a Defensive End for his football team and learning how to hit at practices has finally begun.  How in the samhill did he end up Saran Wrapped if he wasn't already hitting?  Just askin.  Looking forward to tonight's pickup.  Considering our morning started off with VirginiaBirginia strangely wiggling around and looking up at the shower as I started to run the water.  Had I noticed the rainfall deflecting off my ceiling from the sprouting showerhead I might have figured it out quicker, rather than sliding across the wet floor.  REALLY?  Yes, really.  Welcome home.

Changes After 4 Days

The boy walks in after I have been away for 4 days and he looks different already.  REALLY?  Yes really, I can hear the improvement in his English accent, he is tanner and I can see him filling out a bit from the bazillion Oreo cookies he consumes in a day and football practice.   I should go to Paris more often to experience this rush of Awe.  AND, during our breakfast chat this morning he informed me he all of the sudden started dreaming in English!  The change is happening!  WooHoo! 

This is all starting as I will begin my Russian classes on Monday nights next week.  I am hellbent on being able to communicate with his family, and "pick out Russians" on the street as he always does.  It is a bit of a game we have when we are in a city.  Who is the German?  Who is the Russian?  He is far more adept than I.

Food

Have you ever seen a kid head down to do their homework with two chewy bars and a bag of Oreos?  Not only is he obsessed with the double stuff variety, da hubs found the snack pack ones for his lunch bag.  His excitement over these little packs is hilarious.  He loves them, but you have to hear his emphasis to truly appreciate his affection for the cookie packs.  I had know idea they could generate such bliss.  This is after dinner where I try to load him up with Protein.  He has also found a new addiction to the Green Gatorade.  The trips to Costco start tonight.  Da Hubs had to run to the grocery store last night at 9pm for more meat and oreo cookies.

Following the Handbook

So the handbook did say that he would be exhausted, and oh law......how that has set in.  He looked like he crawled out of a crypt this morning.  Although he tells me "he does not know who this boy is that wakes up" I recognize him immediately as the skeleton from "Creep Show".  This of course is all fixed with Chocolate Chip Pancakes (he's still eatin them) and Green Gatorade.

The First Day of School

WOW!  The first day of school came up right quick!  How we ended up running out the door, with just a few minutes to spare is absolutely beyond me.  Oh, right, he is 17.  THAT's what happened.

The Perfect Storm

I was off Friday, I logged into my work email this morning to find a significant issue that triggered phone calls starting at 7am. I am a bit frantic at this point.   The kid has to get up at 7:30 so we have enough time to deal with the morning Cybil, get showered, fed, lunch made and out the door.  We needed to leave by 9am to get him there early enough to find his way around, get settled and be in his seat for the 9:28 bell.  We were running out the door at 9:15. HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN?  I had time to make him and show him how to make his French Toast, thinking all was right with the world....needle off the record..........

Last night I had asked multiple times, "So, you will need to take a notebook to school and maybe some folders because you will be getting a lot of papers." He responds, "Oh yes, yes."  I make the assumption (foolishly) that said notebook and folders, and a writing utensil are in his bookbag.  Here is what was in his bookbag:  first, all of the tags that came on the bookbag (never were removed), second EVERY folder, notebook, pen, eraser, loose leaf paper, trapper keeper, sharpener, pen case, protractor we bought him to get through school. The boy arrived on the 26th and at 9:06 am (10 days later) we were ripping the tags off, emptying out book covers, et al...and he is fiddling with his lock for his locker which is still in the package.   10 days.  10 DAYS!   So while I am sorting out pens, paper, folders and notebooks, he is setting his lock. 

We get to school in time for the 9:28 bell, he goes in...I am nervous as all get out for him...and then I get a text at work 15 mins later.  "I'm sitting in the cafeteria now, school starts at 9:58...I don't know why we thought it will start at 9:28...but there are a lot of other students who were here too early....so my cell phone is almost dead...so just pick me up after football....."   BWAHAHAHAHAHA!  I had a friend say to me this morning that the more she reads this blog, the more she believes this boy was supposed to be in our lives.

Just a side note:  the school calendar did in fact say 9:28 first bell........I screw a lot of stuff up on epic proportions at time but not this......no siree.

Barbecues, Family and Finding a Routine

When the boy gets up, he's not a happy boy.  In fact he has explained to me that the boy that gets up really is not him, it is another person.  Cybil?  Having to wake up this morning at 6am for this all day practice for football (of which I am still not doing a good job of refraining from commentary) was a joy.  We have gotten into the habit of just sending the dogs in while we peer around the door for our own safety.  He ensured us that he is now in school mode and ready for the early wake up calls.  I know it is going to be a challenge for him, cuz he settled in pretty quickly and after day 3, he was making it until almost 11am everyday.  Oh, to be a teenager again.  I want to make it to daylight, or past 6am at least........

He got to meet da Hubs family yesterday and aside from being a blond 6'4" Russian, you would never know he is not blood family.  He found out that he loves real grilled hamburgers and yellow mustard of all things.  My nieces and nephews took to him immediately, they are happy to have a new cousin in their lives.  It actually warmed my heart to see their little eyes crane back to see up to their very, very tall cousin.

I am having a bit of a hard time dealing with school starting tomorrow. I have grown so accustomed to having him around, and I know it will be fleeting glimpses at feeding, or when I am down the basement running.  I know why his mom misses him so much, he really is such a good kid.  We had our breakfast tea and pancakes this morning, sitting at the breakfast bar, looking up words to translate, and he even pulled up and played the Soviet Union National Anthem for me.  Nothing like a little Stalin to start your day off right.

Getting Your Text On.....

It has become a little game of ours now.  At random points of the day I try to guess the number of texts that have come through.  Sometimes its 12, 32, 84, 150..........  Far be it for me not to be completely sarcastic about the situation, and call it out whenever I feel it necessary.  (Every time the appendage comes out of his pocket)

Last night we were at a celebration party for a US Marine.  He had just graduated from boot camp, it was a great thing to be a part of, and kewl for our guy to meet someone who commands our respect.  All of my gal pals from our workout boot camp were there and for a moment I would like to comment on these ladies.  Never in my life have I met such a strong, successful and non-bitchy group of women.  They rally, they cheer, they support unconditionally and I am so fortunate to call them friends.  They also know when to get in on the act and bombard my exchange guy with about 100 texts at once.   I started handing out his cell number to all of them, and it was game on after that ;)  Heh Heh Heh.  For the next 45 mins he was trying to piece together who sent what, since we were all sitting together at the same picnic table and area.  He was very flustered, but finally put faces with phone numbers and saved them into his phone.  Not only were we having fun, but now the boy has the strongest list imaginable should he not be able to get in contact with da hubs or I.  He now has the gals, and that makes him one lucky boy.

Now, to deal with that darn Prosecco truck that drove over me last night and left me in the middle of the road.  Da hubs just said to make it known, he pulled me to the curb.  Big shouts to da hubs.