Flower on a Tuesday

One recent Tuesday, I left work, went to Meijer (because it’s closer to my work than WalMart) and bought cereal (Lucky Charms for those who want to know), turkey and Lays BBQ chips. I also got cash back when I paid because Alyssa needed to pay her voice teacher at the next lesson, which was the very next Wednesday.

Yes.

I then raced home thinking Liv and I could get one page of math done and a spelling activity out of the way before I headed to the school for Volley for the Cure.

Oh please. Don’t even think that I was going because I’m the face of breast cancer in my community.

No.

I was going because the pep band was playing between the JV and the varsity volleyball games and the choir was singing the national anthem before the varsity game.

Yes, I paid $6 to listen to my daughter toot her piccolo and sing a lovely version of The Star Spangled Banner.

I left after the first volley of the varsity game.

Give me a break. It was after 7pm at that point and I’d been home for all of 45 minutes that day, not including the morning routine before work. And those forty-five minutes? They were spent bitching and moaning about the insanity of the homework that Olivia brought home that night. It was geography.

OMG.

Seriously.

The copies were so awful, I couldn’t read the stupid latitude and longitude on the pictures. The instructions were vague and stupid.

She was supposed to do the starred pages. There were six starred pages. We did five of them. The sixth one, oh, let me tell you about that sixth page.

The instructions were to create picture codes that could be used on a map key for things like a foot path, a place for picnics, and so on.

There was NO FREAKING WAY that Olivia was going to be able to come up with pictures and then ACTUALLY DRAW THEM for this assignment.

I wrote at the top of that page, “Olivia did not understand the instructions to this task. She also does not have the fine motor skills to complete it even when it was explained to her.”

Sigh.

I hate that sometimes I have to actually say, “She can’t do this.”

But damn it, she’s not learning anything when I do her freaking homework.

I tried so hard during those 45 minutes to explain each answer and how we arrived at those answers.

I don’t know.

What I do know is that when I’m tired or feeling stressed about time or anything else, I’m a raging bitch when it comes to homework.

This is so unfair to Olivia.

I pray every night to be better, do better, serve her better.

We’ll see.

We did finally get done with the last page of the home work and I headed to the Volley for the Cure game.

I paid my $6 and wen t to find a seat.

I sat behind the dad of one of Alyssa’s friends (through N.) This guy once dated my cousin. He knows my mom well and these days, he knows me on sight. He told me my hair looked nice. Ha!

Before the game started, the announcer mentioned why we were all there (other than to listen to the band and the choir.)

He asked all the survivors and fighters to stand.

Sigh.

Friend’s Dad turned and looked me.

I tried not to make eye contact.

He said, “That’s you!”

Fine.

I stood up and endured the applause. Then one of the volleyball players brought me a flower.

And…she hugged me.

Which is fine. It’s all fine.

And that’s why I took a yellow carnation home from a Tuesday night volleyball game.

Tuesdays wear me out.