Drivers Education

Andy passed his written Drivers Ed. test yesterday. Now, he just has to drive with the instructor in early June, and then he'll have his restricted license.

I have mixed emotions. I'll be glad when I don't have to rearrange my schedule to take him somewhere. But I'll worry about him driving alone. I was so worried that he wouldn't pass the test.

He's been coming to the college for the past month, taking the daily quizzes online to prepare for this test. You see, they don't actually TEACH the kids anymore, the kids read the book, take their quizzes, then take their final test. All the teacher does is post the grades and drive with the kids. Andy had lots of trouble with his quizzes; for some reason, the teacher wasn't receiving them. So, with 2 days to go, we got a phone call from his teacher telling him that he had 15 quizzes to take.

Now, my son never defends himself. He said "ok, I'll get it done." Then he hung up the phone. Relaying the conversation to Mom, well, Mom got hot. "What? You have to taken all your tests, why didn't you tell him you've taken all the tests? Why haven't they gone through?"

Hot Mom took cool Andy to town immediately. We were on a mission.

We logged on at the college, and it showed that Andy had indeed taken his tests. Hot Mom made Andy print all those quizzes off--to prove he'd taken them. We did discover he had skipped chapters 4 and 5, so he took those quickly and we printed them all off. We then emailed his teacher, just to let her know what was happening.

They finally got all his tests sometime the next day. Mom cooled down a little. But, it all ended well, he took his final and passed. Hurdle one cleared.

Andy's been driving frequently. In fact, I seldom get to drive to work anymore. But driving with a teen, a not-the-most-observant-teen, is an experience. Last night, right after passing his driving test, we had to go to Gem to get pig feed. Andy drove.

He scared the c.r.a.p. out of me! We were tooling down the road at 65 mph, rapidly gaining ground on a truck pulling a tractor on a trailer. MY foot was pressing into the floor, trying to get that imaginary brake to grab. Andy, was not. I gently reminded him to pay attention to how fast we were coming upon that big tractor. Andy wasn't concerned. I mentioned the brakes--a little less gently this time. Then I frantically squealed something about hitting them hard.

We didn't hit the tractor, but I sure wish Andy had slowed down a little quicker. He was really annoyed at me. I have no idea why.

You know, I blame all my gray hair on my daughter. But, I'm starting to rethink it--I know I got a few more last night.

You can justify just about anything

This morning I stopped at Loves to get a bottle of pop in the 1 liter size. I've pretty much given up pop, I might have one once a week now when 4 months ago, I HAD to have a Diet Dr. Pepper every morning. And I often had to have two to get me through the day. So, I quit. Cold Turkey. I was miserable. My family was miserable. Caffeine headaches are nothing to laugh at. Mine lasted two solid weeks. And I was grumpy enough that everyone at home and at work told me to go get one and drink it!

We survived. But, I've learned that I no longer can tolerate much caffeine. If I have a glass of tea for supper, I can't sleep. If I have a can of pop in the evening, I can't sleep. So, I've learned to just drink water.

But this morning, I stopped to get the 1 liter size of Dr Pepper. Why? Well, I needed a bottle in that size.

Yes, I need the bottle.

Miss Monkey has not rejected me completely. Her momma isn't giving her quite enough milk and she was hungry last night!

She's a little bigger now and needs more that my Mike's Hard Cranberry bottle will hold. So, you see, I needed that liter bottle!

Anything for a good cause. And, I'm not the only one who can justify just about anything.

Kev and Andy can as well.

They are running around my house, morning and night, with turkey calls in their mouths. Yes, I have a chorus of turkeys serenading me, annoying me, making my hair stand on end...You see, turkey season starts soon, and they have to practice.

Yeah. Right. Sure.

See? You can justify just about anything.

I've been rejected

Remember that feeling--that feeling you get the first time your baby recognizes you, and his little face lights up with a big old grin, just because he recognizes you and knows you are his momma. Remember?

I had that feeling again. Except it was caused by Miss Monkey, the goat. I put Monkey in a dog kennel at night with one of her siblings, then Saturday morning, I went out and let them out and gave Monkey her bottle. She drank it down, then ran off to play with her siblings. At 11:00, I went out again with her "mid-day" bottle. I walked into the barn, called her. She stopped playing, looked at me, and her little tail just started swinging. She had her tail moving so fast, her entire back end was just wiggling. She ran over to me and started in on her bottle, finishing it lickity-split. Then, she let me cuddle her, and she ran off to play.

At 4:00, I brought out her last bottle of the day. But this time, she didn't run to me. She stopped, looked at me, jumped in the air and took off. So, I grabbed her, showed her the bottle, and she wouldn't open her mouth. Since I was holding her, I could feel that her tummy was full. She'd betrayed me and the bottle for her Mother's milk. What's up with that?

I stayed in the pen for probably 1/2 an hour, hoping she'd really come over for her bottle. And that little ...MONKEY...she just ran over to her Momma and started nursing. And her mother never once pushed her away. Not once. She just sniffed, and let her nurse. And, that was that. It's monday. She's still nursing her Momma.

I feel so betrayed. I've been rejected...by a goat.

Monkey

Our little girl has a name. Monkey. I didn't pick it, Miss Kat did. Here she is with a friend, J, who are feeding Monkey at the library. She's decided the bottle will work. She'd still prefer her momma, but will take the bottle well. Eats about a cup of milk 3 times a day right now. Next week, we'll try to keep that schedule and see how it goes from here. Next week, she will not come to work with me either.

My office smells "goaty" to me now. I've asked others at work, and all deny smelling anything.

Either they lie, or they really don't smell it! And we've had lots of visitors. I swear, 3/4 of the staff and faculty and been by to see Monkey. And when we go outside on "potty" breaks, we have lots of students who stop by to visit. Must be something about babies. Yesterday, there were several tours for prospective students. Imagine the looks on some faces as they saw a baby goat in the library! Suprise was evident, and curiosity, and then the ooohhhs and aaaawwweeesss.

After a bottle, all babies need to go on a walk. The kids took her outside for several minutes. I'm not sure who had the most fun--the goat kid or the human kids!

Friday is the last day that this little monkey gets to come to work with me. Should be an interesting day, as she'll also get to go to 4-H club days with us after school. That won't be an issue, 4-Hers are used to haveing livestock appear in unusual places. I'd guess they'll assume that someone is giving a project talk about goats.

One last picture for today!

Take a girl to work

Isn't is take your daughter to work day? Or any girl?This is shrimp or shrimp-ett or something. She doesn't have a name yet. She is the first born baby at our house this year. Unfortunately, her Mom decided to reject her, so she got to come to work with me today.

I'm trying to teach her how to drink from a black rubber nipple rather than from a nice pink warm soft nipple. She'd rather have that pink one than my black one.

It's a little disconcerting to see a new mother goat pick up a little one by the ear and toss her away. Or step away whenever we try to nurse or get pushed away or even have her little butt shoved away and bit. Gotta hand it to this little one, she was persistent and kept trying to steal a drink. She's been pretty good at work. Not too noisy, she's taken 2 oz so far (and had had 4 or 5 oz smeared all over her, me and the towel). I'm hopeful that she'll learn to drink from the bottle and that she'll grow and thrive.

She doesn't seem terribly frightened in my working environment, except when she tries to crawl under the desk or the credenza. I have a feeling that she won't be a librarian when she grows up.