Wednesday, May 27, 2009

My Date Spin

For this weeks Spin Cycle, the request went out for date stories. If you want to know about spinning, go check out Jen at Sprite's Keeper...

I'll admit, I had to dig in the old treasure trove of memories to come up with a date story worthy of telling. I had a pretty laid back dating life. But, I found one. Hidden way back in the archives.

Have I ever told you that I once dated a Canadian Mounty? Oh, yes. Red uniform, horsie and all. My goodness. And for a while, it was fun. A good friend of mine introduced us at a dinner party she hosted (ok, we were in college. "dinner party" is an exaggeration. I'm pretty sure dinner was pizza, beer and ice cream. but you get the picture). We went to a few movies, and I think maybe a real dinner, at a restaurant and such. I was in college, so cheap was the norm and real dinner was fancy. After a few weeks, he suggested I meet some of his friends. I'm thinking, more mounties, right? Could be fun. Sort of rowdy, right? Bwa, ha, ha. Cue date from hell.

He picks me up dressed fairly nicely for what I thought would be a night at a bar. And proceeds to drive me to his church. Yes, kids, you read that right, a date to meet his "friends" at church. I should have left before I got through the doors. Instead I got to spend a night having his "friends" try to sway me to some born again religion. I got a lecture on how the Pope is the anti-christ, and all the catholics care about is abortion and money. His church could really save me. Yup. They could, they cared about me, and my soul. And all during this, the Mountie nodded earnestly and tried to hold my hand. He, too, had been born a misguided Catholic, and had turned his life around. I could, too. Uhm, no thanks? Who thinks they're actually going to convert a kid who's going to a mostly Jewish, liberal arts college to born again Christianity? I'm pretty sure there were some "no drinking" rules that immediately took them off the list of possible options...

So much for a man in uniform. Needless to say, I turned down the offer for ice cream afterwards, and didn't go out with him again. No more Mounties for me, thanks. But the horse was darn cute.

In the grand scheme of things, I guess this doesn't really rate as a "date from hell". I've heard some doozies. I didn't have to walk home for miles, or deal with anyone named Bubba. It didn't involve bail. And I survived pretty much unscathed. But it was definitely odd.

He's a funny man...

Quote of the day (from my husband): "Homer Simpson isn't a bad dad. He's just misunderstood!"

This after a day of LG displaying his "personality" as we've taken to calling it. Tee hee hee. That PB, he's a funny guy. He hasn't wrung the LG's neck yet, but he does keep letting me know that the "urge to kill is rising". At least he's keeping a sense of humor in all of it!

As for LG becoming frustrating, it's our "fault". The teacher at school has pointed out that LG is a tad lacking in his verbal communications. She'd like us to back up the work she's doing at school at home. When LG points at something and grunts, she will say the word (for instance, cup) or the sign that's appropriate. Then she waits for him to at least try to say something. Not necessarily the right word, or sign, but something to acknowledge the effort. So, we're trying this at home. He points, I say a word. He giggles at me at first, then tries for something. If I make him try more than once or twice, I can see him get frustrated. I imagine a thought bubble that says, "Woman, I need a drink. These O's are making me thirsty as heck. Do we need to do this now?" And occasionally, he will just fuss at this. He wants his cup, not a lesson in verbal skills. He's a man of few words, and mostly action, apparently. We'll all get to a happy medium some day. Or he'll just start to talk. Eh, I'm not worried. Though PB is looking a little greyer these days...

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Random Thoughts Tuesday

Ahhh, time for Random Thoughts. Does anyone else think of Jack Handy when they see that little picture above? I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and gosh darn it, it's my blog and you will all like it! Hee, hee, hee.

I just read that Jon and Kate are making $75,000 an episode this season. Whee! How crazy is that? Who cares if they cheated, or lied, or hate eachother? So many people that it merits a $75,000 check, that's who. I didn't watch, but I hear that people are "very disappointed" in them. Really? Like it was your sister, or something? Why do we think Jon and Kate are above, say, Survivor for reality show tactics? Ratings dropped off. They needed a hook. And now they have one. Good for them. Not great for the kids, though (a whole other story).

As for me, I'm excited that the new season of "So you think you can dance" has started! PB and I watch religiously. We know NOTHING about real dancing, other than what Mary, Nigel and the guest judge tell us. Most of the time they say things and we have to watch their faces to know if it's a good judgement or bad (sort of like when Randy on "Idol" starting using "Out of the box"... Was out of the box a good thing, or a bad thing?) But we love to watch them dance. If you have never watched before, try it. But stick it out until they get down to the top 20. Much like Idol, the first episodes are the tryouts, which are some times trying.

You ever realize that the weeks are backing up on you and you need to get control of your schedule back? Today, I realized that we're supposed to go camping this coming weekend. Not real camping, as we'll be in a cabin, but out in the woods, with a fire to cook over camping. And, in my small mind, I figured we were pretty much ready. We have a "camping box" that we keep all the gear in. No need to scramble for flashlights, or silverware, or bug spray. It all stays in the box (and we have strict no pillaging rules). But it occurred to me today that we haven't camped in almost two years. And the summer before last we lost our sleeping bags (yucky story, don't ask). So, today I hurridly called LLBean to order up some bags. And tonight I will have to go through the box and make sure it still holds the necessities, they haven't evaporated, or gone over in any way. With a LG in mind. Hmmm, not as organized as I though. Though, we won't have to worry about fitting a pack n play into a tent, there's still some more thought required on this one.

But I loved the extra day this weekend (even though I apparently didn't use it to it's fullest). Tuesday's are normally hectic, as PB leaves the house extra early to get to a meeting. But today I was ready! I had everything packed over the weekend, all LG's laundry was done and put away. PB had clean underthingies. It was just shy of amazing, I tells you. You'd have been impressed if you had been there. I say I'll do this every Monday, but I never do. Monday nights end up being survival of the fittest at our house. Not sure why. We're all usually a little cranky and tired. But after a day of R&R, we were ready yesterday.

Well, have a happy week, everyone!

Monday, May 25, 2009

Thank you!

Today, we have a lot of things to be thankful for. (I know I just ended a sentence in a preposition. Get over it).

First, thank you to all of the people who have served in the military. Thank you if you were a nurse, bandaging people up. Thank you if you were a soldier in a dangerous place (Grandpa J was in Vietnam). Thank you if you flew people to other places, or just had to leave the good old US to help some other folks out. Thank you for going places you never asked to go, and doing things you didn't really want to do. We here at the Badger Den appreciate it. Oh, and thanks to the women in the Ladies Aid Society who stand in front of the local market so that we can buy our poppies for our Grandpa each year. In the heat of the day, a woman of at least 60 ogled my little boy, while arguing with my husband that she should give him change. Keep the change, please. And, feel free to ogle the little boy!

We're also thankful to our Grammie and Grampie who know just when to invite us over. That random call at 8:am to tell us the BBQ is on? Yeah, we appreciate that. We got to visit twice this weekend! Once we even had an Uncle J sighting (I know, ooooh, for the people who know Uncle J). This weekend I realized that there is some weird connection between my son, his Dad and his Dad's Dad. It's a mini-me thing. The three of them get together and you can almost see the plan to take over the world hatching. And they look so darn cute together. I'll throw up some pictures soon. So, thanks, Grampie, for walking endless laps of your yard, and picking up thousands of sticks to keep a LG happy. If no one else does, I appreciate that!

Lastly, I'm thankful that LG is having a better eating day today. We had tried going to only regular table food, but it just ain't working. LG loves it, but it takes too much patience on all fronts to make it work. And PB spent way too much time worried he wasn't eating enough. So, we're back to Stage 3s, with regular food mixed in. And it's working. Our Dr told us to do whatever works (she actually specifically said don't give up baby food if it works. It's much better than some table food that most people switch over too.) So, thanks LG for giving me a much needed break from all the fussing this weekend. You have really been your cute lovable self.

Oh, and Thank God PB got the ailing rhododendrons out of the front yard and into the back. (way back last fall, when the porch was attacked by the tree, the people who demolished the porch did so onto the rhododendrons. I know. Idiots.) I have been stewing about this all winter. Even if they lived (and they did) they were horribly injured. The back of one was missing, and the other was propped up with sticks (I know, this was the contractors solution...). He agreed to let me buy new ones and deduct them from his bill. So our new ones are on their way, and PB has moved the old ones to provide more blockage from the neighbor. And we're (for once) sort of prepared for an event we know is coming. It's a new feeling around here. Whew.

Hope everyone has a great Memorial Day. If you get a chance, thank a vet. If for nothing else than getting a Monday off.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Spin Cycle- Kitty Haters look away now...

This is for Sprite's Keeper's Spin Cycle. I get to spin about my pets. Finally, the furry ones get some attention!

I have two cats. Yup. And I love them. Don't get me wrong. I love dogs, too. I'd have one, except it'd piss off the cats. They are 11 years old and just don't need to deal with that. So, dogs are a "one day when LG is a bit older".

That being said, I do love my kitties. The black one, Pestilence, thinks he's a dog. He's very friendly, and pretty entertaining. He is also always underfoot... So much so that when he was a kitten (with no name) he tripped a roommate of mine going up the stairs and she screamed, "Cat, you are a pestilence!" Hence the name. But he's a lover. He wants all the attention you can give him.

The other kitty is orange, and her name is Wylie. She is your typical scaredy cat. There are many people who never realize we even have two cats. They've just never seen or heard her. If they do, she's an orange blur speeding by to get to the basement and out of site. She, too, is a furry pile of love, but really only for me (sorry PB).

The real question in my mind is, why do people hate cats? You don't really hear people say, "I hate dogs..." Maybe, I don't really like dogs, or dogs are too much work. But no vehement, I hate dogs people.

Cats, on the other hand, get a lot of venom. They get called sneaky, or uppity, snobbish, even. Really? A cat? First off, if you feel the cat is uppity, uhm, you might have some self esteem issues. Second, just because they don't announce their entrance into a room, and you can always sense their presence through their loud snuffling, or wagging tale, does not make them sneaky. Covert, maybe.

I had a woman once tell me she didn't like them because they hurt people, and children. Ok, maybe. A scratch here or there. But then compare them to dogs. I've never heard anyone say, "I had to take my kid to the emergency room because he was bit by the neighbors cat." How many kids get bit by dogs, though? The lady in England didn't get the first face transplant because of her cat, is really all I'm saying.

The little furry guys get a bad rap. I don't have to rush home to walk my cats. I can leave them for a weekend with a big bowl of food, water and some clean litter and not worry at all. They keep my feet warm in winter.

I think people just get upset because they are far more like humans than dogs are. Most dogs either want attention, or want to give you attention, all the time. Not cats. In our house, we have an understanding. I'll come find you if I need you. For love, or kibble or whatnot. If you're not out in the open, I won't search you out. You obviously need alone time. This goes for humans and cats. (try convincing my young nieces of this one. Our house rule is that you can't approach the cats. You have to let them come to you. It helps avoid unnecessary tail pulling and the resulting scratching. And most of the time, it works)

In the end, I'll take a cat any day. And I think we should all just get along.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

RTT- What the heck?

It's once again Tuesday, the day I'm allowed to subject you all to my random thoughts (oh, wait. This is my blog. I can do that any darn day I want. -> insert maniacal laugh here...)

This week seems to be the week that drove a lot of moms over the edge. I've read on more than one blog about mom's needing time away for themselves, or mom's at the end of their ropes. And I am no exception, apparently. Even though PB's class is over, and I've been getting a lot more help with LG, it doesn't help. Now that PB doesn't have to be holed up in the office, he has been outside doing yard work. Leaving me to deal with LG.

Most of the time there is absolutely nothing to complain about. LG is adorable, energetic and relatively low maintenance. Except that you can't do anything if you have him with you. Because he's the kind of kid that gets into everything. I took him outside to water the plants with me. I turn for two seconds to turn on the hose. 3 acorns in his mouth, aiming for #4. I take him upstairs to "help" me pack away winter clothes for summer clothes? Yeah, we won't even go there. I can leave him in his pack and play for a few minutes by himself, but that's just enough time to throw in a quick load of laundry or get a meal on the table before I feel guilty, or he wants out (in the way that he throws himself at the sides in an attempt to tip the darn thing over...). Lately, getting him down for a nap is a 45 minute process, and meal times are an hour and a half (no advice please, I know it's just a phase. it's not a well times phase, though).

So, last night I snapped. He didn't want to nap, and I didn't have the energy to fight. Dinner was another fight. He got about half way through, and got frustrated that I wasn't giving him what he wanted (and I still have no freaking idea what that was). Between the crying, the swiping and the outright throwing, I was done. All I could think of was all the things I had wanted to do, if dinner didn't take over an hour to accomplish. Flowers to water, kitty litter to clean, dishes to wash. Not really "pleasure" stuff, not really stuff that you can put off too long. Just stuff I had neglected in order to make time for LG. Grrrrr. I knew he was still hungry, and didn't want to just say the heck with it.

In the end, I walked out the back door. No, stop freaking out. He was totally safe. Sitting in his chair, all by himself, screaming his head off. He had thrown all his food, so he wasn't going to choke. PB saw me leave and knew he needed to come in. Good man. He was inside within 5 minutes, and reported that LG had stopped crying, but was still pretty fussy. And I replied that I just didn't care. Oops, bad Mommy moment. PB fed him some more, and went up to give him a bath. I cleaned litter, watered flowers, wrapped teacher gifts. And avoided the bathroom. At one point, LG made a run for the door to come find me, and PB was wise enough to stop him. Smart man.

By the time they were mid-way through the bath, I was mostly better. I went in to assist with the dry off and pajaming. I apologized to PB for bailing on him, and to LG for making him cry. In return I got a lot of hugs, and a reminder that PB lost it a few weeks ago, and is just rallying now. Didn't make me feel much better.

What do you do when you just need 5 minutes, but there isn't 5 minutes to spare? When you've been holding on for what seems like ages, only to find out that you can't hold any more? I hate losing my temper with the LG, but he seems to roll with the punches. Much like PB and I. I guess we are all meant to be together.

Ok, this really was more of a ramble than a random thought.

Friday, May 15, 2009

Prom Spin

Ahhh, dude. I wish these were in color. Alas, my scanner will not cooperate with me today, for some reason. Dad gum it. Anyhow, this is for this weeks Spin Cycle (and other sundry places that are interested in Prom stuffs).
We actually had a version of prom for sophomore, junior and senior year. That meant, if you didn't get asked to anyone else's, you still had the opportunity to dress up in your finest candy colored taffeta 3 times in high school. I, fortunately or not, ended up going to 6 or 7 in the end. I will only share with you the ones I attended that were mine, though. We'll spare the innocent. This one really needs the color shot. I'm the lovely lady on the right (and my date was a boyfriend at the time. My father had kindly nicknamed him Flap, due to his righteous 80's haircut...). The dress was "apricot" but really more of a hot pink. The satan shoes were died to match. Much Aquanet was used that night. Molly Ringwald, eat your 16 year old heart out! (the other girls dress was royal blue, with matching shoes. we both wore white stockings. hey, it was in.)

These are a bit out of order. This is my Senior Ball. Note the lovely Laura Ashley flower print. Very hip in the early 90's (oh, yes, my HS years were from 1988-1992, we got a little of everything...) . My Dad nearly passed out when he saw the price tag on this one, but bought it anyway. Spoiled, anyone? Note, the hair got smaller, but the white stockings were still the thing. New boyfriend, better haircut. I think my father liked this one more, but like is a strong word. Ahhh, now this is my official junior prom. The one the boy had to get a tux for (same boy as senior ball, note). The dress was black on top and white on bottom (so not much changed from the picture here). The hair was somewhere in between the other two. I think "Wonderful Tonight" was my prom song. It might have been that dumb Everly Brother song, too, though. Uhm... Yeah, I can't remember it. I'm pretty sure this was the event where my date changed into black and white plaid shorts and black high top converse half way through the night. It had something to do with a class disagreement about making the event semi-formal or formal, and this was his protest. Eh, I didn't care.
I should mention that my mom had a rule about hair height. Apparently, big hair was a gateway drug to whoredom. She was very strict about it, too. As a result, I am now very jealous of big hair.
Anyhow, hope you all enjoyed. It was good times for all! Great trip down memory lane.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

My Mom and Dad

I should start by explaining that I now work in an office that doesn't really condone over the top cubicle decor. All work papers have to go away at night, and no food or beverage is to be left out on desks. No toys or other "fun" work stuff. A plant and a few nice framed photos are just fine. And a few people have put up a piece of their kids art. It looks very professional, and yet people still feel like their cube is their own. I'm down with this.

As a result, I have three pictures of LG in my cube. Two framed, one tacked on the inside wall (where only the person at the desk sees it). There are all from his one year "photo shoot". They are not ones that I made copies of for everyone, though. And at lunch yesterday I wondered why. Then it hit me. One of them is a family photo (and the rest of the family and friends really didn't need a photo with PB and I in it...). The other two are face shots of LG in his winter hat. In one he has his crooked little smile on. Not his big open mouthed "show my two teeth" smile. It's the smile that reminds me of my Dad.
In the other, he's not even smiling. He's making a face that is all my Mom. I'm not even sure what the face means. It just reminds me of her. And makes him look adorable (but probably only to me).

So, in their way, my parents live on in their Grandson. They'll never meet each other (my parents have been gone for 17 years now), and the people in my life now probably will never realize it (most of them never had the opportunity to meet my parents, either). I will get to see my Mom and Dad every day now for a long time hopefully, in his little face.
PS- I added the photos later for the people who might be interested. They were all taken by Mark Schwind. If you are interested in Mark's work, or live in Cleveland and need a great photographer (he shot our wedding, too), send me a comment and I'll give you his info!

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Random Thoughts Tuesday...

This is going to be way more thought than the subject requires, but I'll file it under the random part of Tuesday.

As I was dressing this morning, I noticed that the care instructions on my underpants included "Do not iron". Uhm, really? Do people iron their underwear? I could possibly see my husband needing to iron his cotton boxers sometimes, when I'm really lax about getting stuff out of the dryer in a timely fashion. They do get a bit over wrinkly. But he doesn't seem to care, so neither do I. I'm pretty sure he's never even thought of ironing them. But my underwear? The thought never even crossed my mind to iron them. Who would notice if I didn't? And they don't get wrinkly (isn't that what the spandex is in there for?) I just thought it was odd.

LG got to go to his first baseball game last night. I think he had a pretty good time. We were in one of the boxes at a A league game, but he wandered out to watch the field a few times (it was a bit chilly out). Here's a shot of him with a game ball that a friend of ours caught (his first baseball! Thanks B!) Side note: B also happens to own our puppy friend, Jasper, and be married to Miss L, whom we really like. Bonus... Back on track, the only thing he didn't like was the mascot, a green version of the Indians mascot, Slider. We knew he didn't like Sully, the seagull who is the Lake Erie Monster's mascot (god knows why). He had seen the really Slider a few weeks ago and was ok with him, though. Who knows what happened in his tiny mind?

For that matter, have you ever looked at your kid and wondered what the heck was going through their head? Not in that, Awwww, look at them discover way. In that, Really, are you kidding me? way... Yeah, for me, all the time. Not that I don't have "Awww" moments. I do. But sometimes, I just don't get it.

And once again, someone is after my Oreos... The Center for Science in the Public Interest is recommending a tax on sugary drinks (read-soda) as part of the new health plan. They claim it will reduce the average intake, and make us healthier, as well as provide $$ to fund the new plan. Funnily enough, they don't propose to include Diet sodas, just regular. Because it's healthy to slurp that Diet Coke? Grrr. Why is it that we all get punished because some people can't keep their hands out of the cookie jar? And if those hands have private insurance, why does the Center for Science in the Public Interest give a darn??? Why does it seem ok to tell everyone how to live their lives? I have a whole rant about how gov't can regulate people on public health care (or without insurance) since they end up paying for their eating sins. But the gov't won't have to pay a red hot dime for whatever my Yoohoo and Twinkie habit will cause me. So, stay out of my pantry!

Last random thought of the day. I'm tired of celebrity spokespeople. I don't care what Jenny McCarthy thinks about Autism, or Bristol Palin has to say about abstinence. When did a professional pretty girl replace a professional in that field? The people who have gone to school, and done the research are being drowned out by people who make money off of the screen time. It kills me. And I'm tired of the excuse, well at least the cause is getting air time. Nope. Better no air time than airtime for someone who is not qualified to give professional advice. It has become all too prevalent that people are spewing opinion as fact, and the general population is not being discerning enough to do the background research. I'm disappointed in Oprah. I think her viewers expected her to do the research for them, and she has let them down...

Ok, enough for this random Tuesday.

Friday, May 8, 2009

Mountains out of Mole Hills

This is for the weekly spin cycle, and I have been negligent. As it is due today, and I'm writing it right now...

So, Mountains out of Mole Hills. I can talk about that. In a way... that involves maternity clothes (get it, mountain out of a molehill?).

What the heck is going on with maternity clothes here, people? Why must they all have that wrap look, or a v-neck? Nobody needs to be looking at my chest right now, really (heck, that's how we ended up here, isn't it???) And a lot of shirts that don't have a v-neck are pretty sheer (darn near see through). It seems to me that all maternity shirts at the moment require you to wear a camisole underneath. Which is fine in April/May, but I'm sure will tick me off in July (I get pretty toasty in baby making mode, and I can't imagine that July will be a cool month). And since I have to look business formal, having a shirt underneath won't be an option. This isn't really a "wear your husband's shirt" type workplace (is there one of those?).

My second question is about those "secret tummy" pants. Uhm, what's the secret, here? That I need pants that stay up? Those things drive me nuts. I don't want the elastic from my pants up under my armpits (which is where it goes if you want it above the belly). I'd much prefer the ones that ride below the belly, but they are now few and far between. Any suggestions? I know some people must love the coverage, but again, what happens in the heat of the summer? Don't they get hot?

I'd swear that in the last two years, maternity fashion has changed. I don't remember being worried about being appropriate in public when I was pregnant with LG. Then again, it was winter. (I should mention here that with LG I got sooo big that my husband suggested-very nicely- in the 8th month that I might want to get a few shirts in the next size up...)

Could it be the rise in those loose shirts in the regular populace? You know, the ones that make chubby people look like they might be pregnant so that other people don't judge? (and yes, I know that there are now full figured people out there swearing my name.) They are not the same, by the way. Those cover equally all around, where a maternity shirt is longer in front (thank god).

I usually don't give much of a hoot about clothes (as anyone who has seen me can attest), but for work, I do make an effort. And it's becoming challenging. Because I don't want to play the pregnancy card to excuse my wardrobe. I just want my wardrobe to be work appropriate.

Really, I'll take suggestions, here. How are other people handling this? Or do I just need to ride out the fashion, and when I return from my maternity leave, thank god that regular clothes are still out there?

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

A random rant for Tuesday...

I will start by saying I love my son's school. Really, I do. The teachers are great, the program is great, even the facility is wonderful. Every once in a while though, they push my buttons. Like today...
We were forewarned in the monthly newsletter that the week of May 18th was "Teacher Appreciation Week". Ok, I'm good with that. A week might be a stretch, for me, but it wasn't my decision. I was good with one day. Anyhow, a week it is. And I thought, "Well, that's nice. They'll do cute things all week long for the teachers. Maybe a breakfast one day, or treats in the lunch room the next."
Today we got the official notice about Appreciation Week. With instructions and suggestions. Not for what they school would be doing, but what I needed to do. Nope, not kidding.
Monday is Flower day. Consider bringing a plant or flowers, or have some flowers sent. (Have they seen the prices to send flowers lately???)
Tuesday is Relaxing day. Think about candles, soaps or lotions. "Anything to help a teacher relax after a day of work". What about something to help me relax? I'm the one who has the kid after work!!!
Wednesday is Sweets day. Any kind of sweet treat will do. (Why, I'm sure they would. For me, too.)
Thursday is Note/Picture day. Write a nice note (or have your kid do it) and give the teacher a picture of your kid. This one seems most reasonable to me.
Friday: "You choose". I can't decide if they were being really generous or exceptionally lazy...
This is just killing me. You want me to buy 5 days of gifts for a teacher (mind you, there are 4 teachers in my son's room). And you've given me suggestions. What the heck is this, Hanukkah? Mother's day and Father's day aren't 5 days long. I don't get a week of appreciation for all I add to this equation.
Yes, I realize that this is their job, and it's not their kid. And yes, they treat my LG really well. But my boss doesn't give me a week of prezzies because I'm so special. I get an annual raise, just like these guys do. Oh, and I think they get more days off than I do. I have to take vacation to cover the days that school is closed, but my office is not.
Wait, I pay tuition here. Don't you think you could take a few bucks from that and give them a nice luncheon? I will supplement with a small gift?
Now, I should mention that the teachers had nothing to do with planning this. And I think some of them are embarrassed by it. But what can they do? Say, "Please, don't get us anything?" And risk pissing off the boss for undermining a week of fun?
I'm normally a pretty calm person. And it takes really big things to set me off, usually. But on occasion, something small (like this) will just get me started. Grrr.
My solution is to give each teacher their own "day". Miss MJ likes flowers, so Monday is hers. Miss H likes lotions and soaps, Tuesday is hers. Miss J will get Wednesday treats. I think I can swing a nice note and picture for everyone on Thursday. And Friday, Miss N will get a Starbucks treat, since that's her favorite. This way I don't break the bank, I keep with the spirit of the week, and everyone is happy. In that "I didn't really want to play along" kind of way.
I shall now go grump in a corner.