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.