I took a four year hiatus from blogging, but these are trying times, folks. I'm here to bring you real, endearing, and sanity saving stories from the 2020 lock-in.
Some days, I barely survive. Other days, I'm crazy awesome.
Yoy is my husband's nickname, so naturally, I'm Mrs. Yoy.
I just tucked Big E in for the night.
On my way out of his room he wished me sweet dreams.
What a lovable little nugget!
It ALMOST persuaded me to let him stay up past his bedtime.
Hi folks! A quick note from Mrs. Yoy as I know it's been awhile. For those that know me personally, you know that I've been very vocal in unsuccessfully convincing the Cobb County School board to change their COVID policies, which to this day, remain a steaming pile of sh*t. We follow zero health guidelines and figuring out the quarantine policy is akin to solving that math problem from Good Will Hunting. I will be publishing the letters I've sent to the board and Superintendent over the last 18 days of school. I've heard back from my representative, who is lovely, and my pediatric dentist who also serves on the board, but it's been crickets from the voting block of four and the Superintendent, Chris Ragsdale. Apparently, he's too busy pumping iron and self-tanning. Anyway, enjoy. HAPPY FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL! (E-mail sent on August 2, 2021) Good morning from East Cobb! As a long time resident, I am writing you this morning to plead with you to reconsider the mask
Good Morning from Quarantine-land in East Cobb. I am writing to you, as I have numerous times since the first day of school on August 2nd, to plead with you to reinstate the mask mandate in Cobb County Schools. I spent yesterday talking to my son through a bedroom door. We have been trying to limit contact between him and the rest of our family, as he received his first close contact letter on Tuesday. A COVID positive boy that sits at his table in class, MASKLESS , breathed on my son for an hour on Monday morning. Thankfully, my son was wearing his mask. We will go tomorrow to get tested for COVID. Currently, our days consist of temperature checks, CTLS checks, and a few massive meltdowns sprinkled in. As my son sobbed through the door, he relayed how stressed he was, worried about missing class while his assignments piled up. As I tried to soothe his troubled soul, I thought of you all. You did this. You own this terrible, gutless decision. My son then told me he is being teased at
Day 58. Today was a big day. I had to go to the Yoyser's school to pick up their stuff that they left behind in March. Back when we were all complaining that they'd be out until after Spring Break. Oh. The horror. Back when we joked that if they weren't back in school by my birthday, I'd be disappointed. Oh. THE. HORROR. Back when if you'd have told me that I would spend the next 60 days straight with my children, without CycleBar, without my mani/pedis, without my bra, I would have laugh/cried. OH. THE. HORROR. We were allowed back in, in very small groups with strict instructions. Wear a mask. Grab their bagged items, their yearbooks, and get the heck out. Everything was one way. I did have a chance to see their Principal one last time, as she is being transferred to another school. I wanted to hug her and thank her for all she has done for my boys over the past five years, but that wasn't going to happen. So behind my masked face, I tried to pour all of m