Mosca Muerta

I used to be a nice girl.  I was quiet. Spoke only when spoken to. I trusted and respected my elders.  Listened to authority.  Never spoke my mind.

Well over the years that all changed.  I got sick of being the one that never spoke up and didn't voice my opinions.  Other people were always willing to speak their mind no matter how wrong they were.

It seems now I have a reputation.

I'm on a coworker's little shit list this past week.  She's been questioning every decision I make even though she isn't in the same department I am.  I don't know what her deal is but she's making me angry. She's a 60 year old woman and she's playing this passive aggressive game with me which is getting really old really fast.   My boss knows about it and yesterday he witnessed me and her getting into another round of nonsense.  At one point I told her talking to her was like talking to my mother.  Constant nagging and going in circles without her telling me what is the end problem, question or solution.

This same lady called me a mosca muerte...a dead fly.  I told my mom and she laughed.  It's almost like this lady is calling me a cross between a spoiled brat, hypocrite and prima donna, if any of that makes sense. All I know is that I'm right and she's wrong.

The Dreaded Note

Before Ollie T was born we knew we had to line up a good daycare for him.  We started on the search pretty late and checked out about 5 places before we fell in love with the current daycare he is in now.  We had a good recommendation and instantly we felt like we could trust this place with our kid.  The infant room teachers were absolutely wonderful. They went through a few changes but no matter what we felt confident that Ollie was getting the attention he needed.  Before he turned a year the infant room got a good trio of teachers.  They were all young, easygoing and really helpful in guiding us through the rest of Ollie's first year.  We would ask them questions like what and when to feed Ollie, especially when it came to solids, because we were simply at a loss.  He surely couldn't eat Taco Bell and pizza.

Then Ollie turned the Big 1.  He was moved into the toddler room and we had our choice between a Spanish language focused classroom or a Sign Language focused classroom. We asked that he stay with his friends that would all be coming in from the infant room in the next couple months. So with that request Ollie was sent to the sign language room. We were given a sheet about what to expect and what to bring.  Soon after the notes started.

The regular notes came as expected.  More diapers, more wipes, and accident reports were all the notes we were expecting.  Then we got the "other" notes.

-Please put all warm up containers in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator.  (We forgot twice).
-It is not necessary to write how long to microwave the warm up.
-Peel the orange (cutie) beforehand.
-Do not send utensils.
-Please send bibs.
-Please put jackets on top of his designated container.
-Please bring a teething toy.
-Please do not bring two sippy cups.
-Please stop bringing bottles.

These are all the ones that I could think of but I'm sure there were more.

I was ready to start sending notes back and start a passive aggressive war but I was told to let it go.

Ollie really does have a good teacher she is just a stickler on certain things that drives me batty.  But I guess it's good that he has that strict structure at school since we let him do whatever the hell he wants at home.