If you find humor in the following questions and comments, you are a good mom, or you are very good friends with a good mom.
1. Well, when was the last time you pooped?
(It’s all about poop: what makes it, what’s in it, where it is, and how frequently it happens.)
2. Let me just admire your hair—really closely.
(Lice: they’re out there, and they’re looking for your child.)
3. Hmmmm, well, everyone misses the potty now and then. Let’s at least be sure we aim for something in the bathroom.
4. If you eat just one bite of something healthy, you can have all of the chips in the world.
(Small children are capable of surviving on cheese curls and Doritos.)
5. Let’s just wipe that off.
(A child under the age of 10 can wear an entire pizza on his or her face and have no recollection of seeing the food in the first place.)
6. Please don’t try to climb on my lap while I am on the potty.
(Separation anxiety.)
7. Those are boobies, not handles.
(I don’t know why God put them within reach of three-foot-tall clingy children. They really don’t assist in climbing at all. If anything, this explains why they begin to droop after children. The more children, the more drooping.)
8. Please don’t cry—I can fix that.
(Thank God for Gorilla Glue!)
9. You need a costume by tomorrow? No problem. I don’t need sleep, and WalMart is open 24 hours.
(Only the best are willing to make that 2:00 A.M. trip. Some odd creatures shop before the sun comes up—odd creatures other than sleep deprived mothers.)
10. Oh, well, you shouldn’t eat your boogies. I know they taste fantastic, but that gets your fingers slimy.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Friday, May 9, 2008
Newsflash!
My three-year-old son has informed me that it is perfectly acceptable to use potty words in the bathroom. Just so you know. It's OK.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Cotton Candy for Dogs
Diapers are the doggie equivalent of cotton candy. Once shredded, they even look like cotton candy. Yellow cotton candy. All over the bedroom floor. Yum.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Speech Racer
We CAN'T WAIT for Speed Racer to be released. According to my three-year-old son, we are going to see PEED RACER. Apparently, he's incontinent, but fast.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Cows
We went to the circus, which was AWESOME! 7 motocycles in one big ball! So cool! And, though my son feared it so, the tigers did not growl at or eat him. Mmmmmm, cotton candy, Homer Simpson drool...
So, here it is in rough, kinda really bad form, (actually it sucks) the text to Why There Are No Cows in the Circus. Some of you remember this from years ago (the book I never wrote).
Cows are not world-renowned for performance art.
They are neither frighteningly obscure nor unstoppably cute.
They are not at all flexible.
No contortionists here.
They do not ride bicycles.
They do not balance on the backs of goats.
They do not stand on their hind legs and twirl in circles.
They do not catch Frisbees.
They do not gallop and allow their riders to perform feats of skill.
Their ability to balance on the high wire leaves a lot to be desired.
Cows have difficulty jumping through rings of fire.
They are no good at riding motorcycles.
Hooves can’t grasp the handle bars.
Cows on bikes would just fall over.
No one fears them.
No one hangs on the edge of the seat in dreaded anticipation as the trainer stands in the cage convincing cows to do tricks.
Nowhere does anyone worry that the cows in said cage will attack and eat the trainer.
Cows chew cud.
We would not pay to watch them chew. No spitting contest will ensue.
Who would pay to watch a good milking.
That, my friends, would be a good bilking.
So, here it is in rough, kinda really bad form, (actually it sucks) the text to Why There Are No Cows in the Circus. Some of you remember this from years ago (the book I never wrote).
Cows are not world-renowned for performance art.
They are neither frighteningly obscure nor unstoppably cute.
They are not at all flexible.
No contortionists here.
They do not ride bicycles.
They do not balance on the backs of goats.
They do not stand on their hind legs and twirl in circles.
They do not catch Frisbees.
They do not gallop and allow their riders to perform feats of skill.
Their ability to balance on the high wire leaves a lot to be desired.
Cows have difficulty jumping through rings of fire.
They are no good at riding motorcycles.
Hooves can’t grasp the handle bars.
Cows on bikes would just fall over.
No one fears them.
No one hangs on the edge of the seat in dreaded anticipation as the trainer stands in the cage convincing cows to do tricks.
Nowhere does anyone worry that the cows in said cage will attack and eat the trainer.
Cows chew cud.
We would not pay to watch them chew. No spitting contest will ensue.
Who would pay to watch a good milking.
That, my friends, would be a good bilking.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Best Birthday Ever!
So, birthdays come and go, but nothing beats yesterday, and it will live in my family’s memory for a good long time.
I was soooooooo sick all weekend, but when I woke up yesterday, I felt significantly better—for all of ten minutes. Then I felt like crap again. I proceeded to awaken my daughter for school. Normal morning: liquid breakfast for the girl (heaven forbid she actually eat solid food), left late because I couldn’t get myself together, fought traffic, made it to school. Halfway to school, my daughter remembered my birthday, which was so sweet. Five minutes later, she said her stomach felt awful. I told her she was not allowed to throw up on my birthday, told her to tough it out and see what she could make of the day.
Once school began, every spare moment was taken by students, but that’s why I’m there, right? I did not even get the chance to go to the bathroom until 4:00. Ugh. I hate days like that. I was going to make cupcakes for my homeroom, but I was too sick, so we bought grocery store cupcakes. As I was getting ready to pass them out, one of my girls tripped and hit her face on the bookshelf. She then refused to see the nurse. I hope she explained that to her mother. It kinda ruined my lunch, which was noodle soup—in hopes of feeling better. I tutored a student after school, rounded up my daughter (who said she was ok), and headed off to pick up the boy. See, my work really begins once the school day is finished. That’s when we do homework, “fight the good fight,” in other words. We also try to make dinner, prepare clothes for the next day, get showered, and get to bed on time. Where’s the fun time? Summer. Anyway, my weeds are RIDICULOUSLY tall, so I decided I would go out to cut them while my girl started her homework. I really do not want the civic association to complain to me that my yard is in violation. I already have them thinking I am an insane psycho woman from hell. So, I ran upstairs to change, and when I came downstairs, my poor girl had thrown up all over her homework. All I could say was, “Oh, no, now we have to do it all again!” She so sweetly told me this was not her birthday present for me. I giggled a little. I told her it was ok, and at least she would never forget this birthday.
We ran upstairs for her to take a shower. The boy yanked off his clothes and insisted on a bath. Then, the girl wanted a bath, which she got because she was sick. Many minutes later…Dinner was cold and interspersed with little girl vomiting. Cake was the same, and my weeds are still tall.
Among all of this retrospectively funny chaos, I can find benefits: my girl and I got to have a fun-filled, slightly pukey sleepover on the air mattress (good idea to all of you with children: it can be taken outside and hosed off). Both of my children are clean and do not need another bath today. I also have time to make tonight’s dinner. We all get new toothbrushes, which is soooo much fun because I bought ones that blink! My students figured out that I am somewhere between 29 and 103 years old. I’ve gotten to the point where my mother no longer remembers my age. My husband couldn’t remember it either. I have more cake to eat because my girl thinks everything smells and tastes like vomit—perhaps she should put that toothbrush to use! I can’t wait to see what next year brings!
I was soooooooo sick all weekend, but when I woke up yesterday, I felt significantly better—for all of ten minutes. Then I felt like crap again. I proceeded to awaken my daughter for school. Normal morning: liquid breakfast for the girl (heaven forbid she actually eat solid food), left late because I couldn’t get myself together, fought traffic, made it to school. Halfway to school, my daughter remembered my birthday, which was so sweet. Five minutes later, she said her stomach felt awful. I told her she was not allowed to throw up on my birthday, told her to tough it out and see what she could make of the day.
Once school began, every spare moment was taken by students, but that’s why I’m there, right? I did not even get the chance to go to the bathroom until 4:00. Ugh. I hate days like that. I was going to make cupcakes for my homeroom, but I was too sick, so we bought grocery store cupcakes. As I was getting ready to pass them out, one of my girls tripped and hit her face on the bookshelf. She then refused to see the nurse. I hope she explained that to her mother. It kinda ruined my lunch, which was noodle soup—in hopes of feeling better. I tutored a student after school, rounded up my daughter (who said she was ok), and headed off to pick up the boy. See, my work really begins once the school day is finished. That’s when we do homework, “fight the good fight,” in other words. We also try to make dinner, prepare clothes for the next day, get showered, and get to bed on time. Where’s the fun time? Summer. Anyway, my weeds are RIDICULOUSLY tall, so I decided I would go out to cut them while my girl started her homework. I really do not want the civic association to complain to me that my yard is in violation. I already have them thinking I am an insane psycho woman from hell. So, I ran upstairs to change, and when I came downstairs, my poor girl had thrown up all over her homework. All I could say was, “Oh, no, now we have to do it all again!” She so sweetly told me this was not her birthday present for me. I giggled a little. I told her it was ok, and at least she would never forget this birthday.
We ran upstairs for her to take a shower. The boy yanked off his clothes and insisted on a bath. Then, the girl wanted a bath, which she got because she was sick. Many minutes later…Dinner was cold and interspersed with little girl vomiting. Cake was the same, and my weeds are still tall.
Among all of this retrospectively funny chaos, I can find benefits: my girl and I got to have a fun-filled, slightly pukey sleepover on the air mattress (good idea to all of you with children: it can be taken outside and hosed off). Both of my children are clean and do not need another bath today. I also have time to make tonight’s dinner. We all get new toothbrushes, which is soooo much fun because I bought ones that blink! My students figured out that I am somewhere between 29 and 103 years old. I’ve gotten to the point where my mother no longer remembers my age. My husband couldn’t remember it either. I have more cake to eat because my girl thinks everything smells and tastes like vomit—perhaps she should put that toothbrush to use! I can’t wait to see what next year brings!
Monday, March 24, 2008
Testing
Well, my girl has had a tough time of it in first grade. Socially, she’s having a wonderful time. Academically, it’s not so great. As a matter of fact, we’re close to having to repeat the grade. The hard part is that she thinks she’s doing fantastic. Hmmm. So we went the route of educational testing ($625) to determine if she needed to be held back. We found out that she has a mild reading problem and a mild attention problem. She scored just barely above the line that indicates a problem and a necessity for medication. The tester said she couldn’t make a recommendation one way or another about retention (the reason we went to her in the first place) because the girl has an average IQ, tested well, and can read. The tester said she was 49/51 about retention. Then she brought up the fact that my girl drew a picture of herself without hands. Apparently, this indicates a lack of confidence. Whatever. When I asked my child about the hands, she said she doesn’t know how to draw them.
Now, we need to pay $250 for a speech evaluation because immature speech patterns are obstructing spelling ability and reading. Then, we’ll pay $50 per session to have the problem remediated. Next week, we’ll meet with everyone at school. We’ll see what they have to say.
We also have to continue to pay the tutor for the summer ($40 per hour) and possibly for reading and math summer camp ($550 for two weeks of three-hours per day sessions).
My husband is completely opposed to medication. My pediatrician does not think there is an issue with our daughter. She may change her mind when she sees the report, who knows? So, what it comes down to is that my husband emphatically believes that if it’s an issue of repeating or taking meds, then she should repeat. I think that’s fine for first grade, but it won’t help when she struggles in second grade because she is focused on something else.
Really, there’s no way to tell except for letting time take its course. In the process of that, the poor child sinks further. Parenthood is soooo much fun. I recommend this to anyone. We all need to sit by and helplessly watch a defenseless creature suffer and struggle. It builds character all around. Sense my sarcasm.
Sorry for being a downer. But, that’s what fate offers right now. There’s got to be an upside somewhere, but I haven’t found it yet.
Now, we need to pay $250 for a speech evaluation because immature speech patterns are obstructing spelling ability and reading. Then, we’ll pay $50 per session to have the problem remediated. Next week, we’ll meet with everyone at school. We’ll see what they have to say.
We also have to continue to pay the tutor for the summer ($40 per hour) and possibly for reading and math summer camp ($550 for two weeks of three-hours per day sessions).
My husband is completely opposed to medication. My pediatrician does not think there is an issue with our daughter. She may change her mind when she sees the report, who knows? So, what it comes down to is that my husband emphatically believes that if it’s an issue of repeating or taking meds, then she should repeat. I think that’s fine for first grade, but it won’t help when she struggles in second grade because she is focused on something else.
Really, there’s no way to tell except for letting time take its course. In the process of that, the poor child sinks further. Parenthood is soooo much fun. I recommend this to anyone. We all need to sit by and helplessly watch a defenseless creature suffer and struggle. It builds character all around. Sense my sarcasm.
Sorry for being a downer. But, that’s what fate offers right now. There’s got to be an upside somewhere, but I haven’t found it yet.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Itty Bitty Snow
Yes, we had itty bitty snow and rain, but the forecast was bad enough to close school, which is quite a feat, in and of itself, because our school NEVER closes. I was so sure it would be open that I didn’t even bring my grading home. If you believe that.
We went sledding in our yard today. It was tons of fun. We all took turns. I forgot how wonderful it is to run into a tree! Fortunately, our trees are still young and pliable, so no one got hurt, except maybe the tree.
Speaking of trees, I ordered some for my yard from a well-respected establishment which said it would send the trees and bushes when it is time to plant. Well, apparently, my vegetation has been shipped. In which dismal, snow-covered corner should I plant them? This is time to plant? Are you kidding me? Ok. So, what do you think? Do the trees and bushes add charm? Should I go buy a shovel now? So that I am ready when the truck drops them off?
We went sledding in our yard today. It was tons of fun. We all took turns. I forgot how wonderful it is to run into a tree! Fortunately, our trees are still young and pliable, so no one got hurt, except maybe the tree.
Speaking of trees, I ordered some for my yard from a well-respected establishment which said it would send the trees and bushes when it is time to plant. Well, apparently, my vegetation has been shipped. In which dismal, snow-covered corner should I plant them? This is time to plant? Are you kidding me? Ok. So, what do you think? Do the trees and bushes add charm? Should I go buy a shovel now? So that I am ready when the truck drops them off?
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Snow and Ice
Looks like we're going to get some weather! I soooooooo hope we don't have school tomorrow!!!!!!!!! If we do have school, driving should be horrible. Yeah!
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