I hate to say “I Told You So”

When we bought this house, we knew there were things that needed work.

Specifically, windows.

After last winter, when The Big Guy draft wrapped just about every window and duct taped the sliding glass door in the kitchen, we knew we would have to do something about the windows here. We are oil-fired water for heat – and suffice it to say, the Oil Truck was in the driveway almost as often as we were.

Once I had employment secured, we decided to go ahead. Being prudent home owners, we wanted three quotes. I found myself hounding two of the contractors, because while the quoting was in July, I had visions of windows being installed in the bitterness of the fall. Ideally, we would have new windows in before we had to start the furnace again for the winter.

TBG thought I was a bit of a stalker when I started following up with the companies for the SECOND time. My thought – “They don’t want the business – let’s go with the first quote!” I was told to be patient, much like an impulsive child – which went over VERY WELL….

Finally, with three prices in hand, we decided to go ahead with the FIRST quote. At this point, it’s been a month since that first contractor handed me the quote. He’s got other jobs in the qeue and we now have to wait until he has a three-day break.

Which leads us to today.

Might I advise, it is a strong wind from the East, threatening rain and FREAKIN’ cold?

You can't see it, but this poor schmuck has four layers on.

Don’t like to brag, but sometimes I hate it when I’m right…..

Hitting a Milestone aka “The Grass is Always Greener”

Every parent looks forward to the firsts in their child’s life. First smile, steps, contracts with NHL franchises. Here in Boweryville, we enjoyed another milestone, just this past Friday night.

That’s the evening after Second Born Son faced his first exposure to drugs.

I’ll give you a moment to clean up the coffee that just shot through your nose. My apologizes for the nasal scalding.

And like so many things in my world – this impactful information was present in the most innocuous way possible.

“Hey Mom, did SBS tell you what happened on the bus today?” asks First Born Son. Let me add here that the boys have been in the house for OVER AN HOUR AT THIS POINT. I’d like to take this opportunity to emphasize how much I loathe “The Bus”. The stories I have from that period in my life make me a poster child for naivety shattered.

After hauling SBS from his father’s laptop, we had a detailed discussion about what happened and I used my journalist prowess to decipher every nuance of the incident. It would seem the little entrepreneur saw SBS board the bus with his box of elementary school fundraising chocolate bars and thought he could negotiate a trade of cocoa product for Grass.

At this point FBS is boarding the bus, and along with his friend, they punch the pusher and managed to hijack the conversation, as well as the proposition. I ask SBS what he’s doing while his brother is pounding the fellow bus rider.

“I just did this.” he sits at the dinner table, eyes as big as saucers, focusing on an imaginary bus seat in front of him, mute and unblinking.

In fairness, FBS has mentioned that this kid had marijuana on him in the past – he’s actually SEEN it on him. I would find out well after the fact and since it did not directly involve one of my offspring – I didn’t feel motivated to go vigilante on this kid. It’s part of the new era I like to call “I’m Only Raising My Kids.

This time, a call to the bus driver Friday evening, followed by an email to the two school principals Monday morning, was required. The high school principal contacted me in the afternoon to advise the student had been called into the office. Suffice it to say, his day got infinitely more shitty than his morning bus ride, when the driver instructed him to sit at the front – an embarrassment he pinned on FBS.

While we’ve had “the drug talk” with our kids for the past few years, it’s still unsettling that it’s come so close to us, with SBS at such a young age. I’m not naive enough to think my kids couldn’t do drugs. I know SBS could easily have swapped chocolate bars for an easy high – and we discussed whether or not he wants to go down that road. His horrified response reassured me.

For now.

I thanked FBS for being there for his brother, and together we discussed things SBS could have said, in the event that this happens again and his brother isn’t around to help out.

I’m not dumb enough to think that this won’t happen again.

You can only go day by day and hope and pray your kids know enough not to blink.