an un-good-bye, fake stuffed animals, and e-learning benefits

Ed left for college.  I expect that he'll be home sooner than desired, but I sincerely hope he gets to stay.  We were so busy that people blanked or didn't get the memo on what time he was leaving and they didn't get to say good-bye.  Just more evidence that we rarely fire from all cylinders and it isn't just mail that slips into that giant crack we seem to gingerly step over in day-to-day life when we remember its presence. (not literally, we don't actually have a crack in our floor, well the kids' upstairs shower started leaking into the kitchen AGAIN . . .  well now I am just way off track).

Um, Coach was one of the family members who neglected to say good-bye to Ed.  He left to workout and when he came back around 8 am . . . 

Coach:  Is Ed ready?  

Me:  Um, he left at 7 am.  

Coach:  What?  Oh.  Shit.  I guess last night he did say he was leaving at 7.  It just didn't register.  

Meanwhile the three high school kids have started e-learning, and as Beth recently predicted in my comments that has created material for this-here blog.  

The second day Mini texted me from her bedroom demanding that we get better internet service.  She was glitchy.  Is it just a coincidence that it rhymes with bitchy?  Asking for a friend.

We're at the top of the line with internet, having already upgraded.  We own these little internet boosters and have them placed around the house.  Since Mini unceremoniously threw a sleeping Curly out of their room to e-learn, I told her to carve out a corner on the first floor.  "Plus better internet service on the first floor too, so you're welcome."

Mini adopted the dining room table for her study spot.  She dislikes the dining room chairs though, so she pulls the upholstered chair from the living room into the dining room.  Probably scratching the hell out of the floor, and in the process she's inadvertently unveiling all of the wrappers and uneaten food items that Tank typically hides under that chair.  

Tank goes to the store for me sometimes and I let him pick out cookies before we left for Michigan.  So it should come as no surprise to you that I found a sandwich bag filled with Nutter Butters under the chair recently.  He doesn't even bother to deny it, just claimed he didn't want Curly to eat them all.  As if.  

That chair is usually 'off-the-grid'.  If Coach and I start to converse in the kitchen about something top-secret that only our pay grade is cleared for, then I first bop my head into the living room to see if a kid is camped out in that chair.  I don't think they sit there hoping to eavesdrop, but one never knows.  

Not drawn to scale, but you knew that.  I started to explain where the secret chair is in relation to the kitchen, but a picture seems so much easier.  Oh the things I have found under there over the years.  Sorry I didn't do a better job demonstrating Coach and I standing at the island talking.  We don't usually stand so close to each other to speak. 

Anyway, on the 3rd day of e-learning (uh oh, I feel like I could easily slip into that Christmas song about 5 DIAMOND RINGS here, while substituting the words . . .  don't worry, not feeling THAT creative tonight), Mini came rushing into the family room.  Curly and I were camped out over the double boppy pillow feeding and burping twins and trying to guide their spit onto the 5 bath towels spread all over the floor.  

What child labor laws?  Nothing like training a child in a life skill, is what I always say. 
Somehow  housework lessons do not get as much dedication.

Mini:  Quick.  I need a stuffed animal for my Peer Buddies class.

She fumbled a bit.  I held up Fifi, the 5 month old twin.  She is less likely to spit as the other twin, and as an added bonus she LOOKS just like a stuffed animal.

Me:  Here, take Fifi!

Mini:  (giggling uncontrollably, which is generally her reaction any time she sees Fifi.  She  raced back to the dining room)  Oh, so this is NOT a stuffed animal, but the next best thing.  This is Mrs. Noodle's kid.  (Mrs. Noodle teaches at the high school).

Mini's computer:  LAUGHTER and APPLAUSE, ETC.  

Curly handed me Mimi, the spitting twin.  She ran to the dining room to see the zoom class's reaction.  Peer Buddies is a PE class.  This class involves upper-classmen assisting students with special needs.  No idea how they do much of anything on a zoom call.   

So, after our first day with the twins, Curly told the mom when she came to pick up that Fifi reminds her of the hamster in the Disney animated movie:  Bolt.  I sort of cringed when she said this not knowing if a mom ever wants to hear that her kid looks like a cute hamster, but the mom was like, "Oh, I'm not familiar with that movie."

Bolt hamster photo, thanks Disney Fandom.

The next day, the twin's mom showed up and told Curly that she googled the hamster and that she could not stop laughing because her baby looks SO VERY MUCH like the hamster in Bolt.  

Me:  (Dabbing away beads of sweat on my forehead, relieved that this woman was OK with my kid telling her that her baby looks like a chubby hamster).

Other than faking babies as stuffed animals, which is what I assume most teachers consider  a teaching moment, there are a few other benefits to e-learning:

1.  More time with my children, because is there ever enough of that?

2.  Rather than getting frustrated that a kid has left for school and left the milk out, or dropped a wet towel on his/her bedroom floor, or neglected to load a bowl in the dishwasher, I can just CORRECT the situation right then and there.  If you doubt that I will walk into my child's learning space and embarrass them on a zoom call to holler at them to get their dirty clothes out of the upstairs hallway- then you don't know me as well as I thought you did.  

EXPLANATION (EVEN THOUGH THIS CANNOT REALLY BE EXPLAINED):  it is a HALLWAY, not a bathroom, or a bedroom, no idea why one would change there - or what one would do that would result in dirty or clean clothes being strewn about.  It's also a small space, a mere two steps lands one in the laundry room.      

WHY?  WHY, MUST THEY TORTURE ME SO?

edited to add:  After I drafted this post, I walked out to the kitchen at 9 pm and hollered to Coach . . . 

Me:  So, did I remember to text you to tell you Ed got to school OK?

Coach:  No, but he texted me, so I knew.

Curly:  WHAT?  Ed left for school already?  When?  I didn't even get to say good-bye.

Mini:  I know.  I just found out he left too.  

What a difference a year makes.

Do you know anyone who looks JUST LIKE a cartoon character?  Would you ever tell them so?  Any guesses on the e-learning pitfalls that will follow in a subsequent post?