Last Thursday night I bugged off class in order to attend Rain's Black History Month musical at her elementary school, and I'm really glad I did because she played the pivotal role as a narrator and was at the front of the stage the entire night. She did wonderfully and made me proud. I told Mr. Shado the week before that I would need to be out, but he still assigned a test for the night anyway. I panicked for a moment until he told me he would email it to me and I could just turn it in the next week. We were busy all day Saturday so when I sat down on Sunday to study before the test, I kept studying. And studying and studying. I knew it was closed-book and I had to take the test that night, but I kept putting it off to look over a few more notes or quickly go over a certain chapter before I deemed myself ready to take the test. After about seven hours of this, I gave it up and took the test (in pen, to help keep me honest). It was a book-generated test which pulls out random information that no mechanic would really need to be able to pull out of her head on a moment's notice, like when you use a scan tool to check your vehicle's computer, which terminal in the data link connector leads to the automatic seat warmers in a 2010 Honda. There's no way I can remember that. Well, I guess I could remember that, but not that plus terminal numbers for every other computer module in that Honda plus Toyotas and Chryslers and General Motors vehicles. And I don't think Mr. Shado expects us to memorize all of that information--it was just on the test because it was book-generated and I hope Mr. Shado alters the results to account for that. Otherwise, I think I did ok (probably a B... I'll let you all know when I get the final grade).
Monday nights have become our lab nights and I have to start bringing some jeans and t-shirts to change into; I got grease all over a pretty black and white flowered top last night. (I don't have enough daytime work clothes as it is and now I go destroying the ones I do...) We were to perform vehicle inspections and Mr. Forrest offered to have a couple of our cars inspected as part of the lab. I really wish my car was clean enough to show to the rest of the students, but there's random flotsam and jetsam that ends up in cars when you drive as much as I do and carry around kids: coke bottles, granola bar wrappers, one of SugarFoot's shoes, several sweaters of Rain's, and books and papers scattered helter-skelter throughout the interior. I was too embarrassed to offer it up for inspection even though I really could have used one. Instead, we inspected Jiffy's car and found a few oil leaks and air pressure issues in his tires among other things, all of which he already knew about.
Little Rain had a nightmare last night. I assume all 8-year-olds have nightmares on occasion, but she has about one a month that really distress her. She usually doesn't want to talk about them--just wants to be cuddled and reassured for several minutes and then have someone change the subject so she can move on with her day, which happens rather quickly in our chaotic household. But last night's dream was about my 88-year-old grandmother who was performing a magic trick and laid down on her bed and lit herself on fire. She was unhurt, but then started biting Rain with really sharp teeth. Dreammoods.com says "To dream that you are being bitten represents your vulnerability regarding some unresolved issues or emotions. You may be pestered by a problem or obstacle. The dream may also be a metaphor indicating that you have bitten off more than you chew. Perhaps you have too much to handle." If this is true and my 8-year-old daughter has bitten off more than she can chew, she may be headed for stomach ulcers as we get closer to her tumultuous teenage years. She's always been a little perfectionist (a strong Virgo) and rather high-strung at times.
Back at the homestead, we've had a run of bad luck lately. First, we discovered a water heater leak that had been leaking for some time and damaged the subfloor below it. Then our oven went out. Now, we're impatiently and anxiously waiting for number three. I had to jump off ThatGuy's car the other morning and thought perhaps that would be our third and final problem, but it's been acting fine since then--just a scare. Cross your fingers that it's easily (and cheaply) fixable.
With our three adults, two kids, two dogs and one cat household, we've decided to keep this Halloween decoration up all year on our front door: