Laughed so hard I snorted.

I've been meaning to update my links list for a while. I've found more hilarious people that I think you should check out. For instance, here's an entry (albeit an old one) from Dad Gone Mad. He's so going on my list of people you should read:

The Mouse Incident

I recently reconnected with an old friend named Craig. This is my favorite story about him:

When we were 18, Craig and I were co-counselors for a cabin full of nine-year-olds at a summer camp in the Santa Monica mountains. Everyday after lunch, the campers and counselors would retreat to the cabins for an hour of quiet time. Craig and I would try to sleep after a late night of sneaking over to the girl counselors' cabins to try to get some nookie, but we would invariably spend the whole hour admonishing the yappy kids to shut up.

One day during quiet time, a ruckus broke out. The boys started squealing and screaming and running around like banshees. I popped up from my bunk ready to do some ass-chewing. "What's going on in here?" I grumbled.

In unison, the boys pointed to the back corner of the cabin and squealed, "A mouse! A mouse! There's a mouse in the cabin!"

I borrowed a flashlight from one of the boys, knelt down and shined the light under a steel bunk-bed in the back of the room. Sure enough, there was a dark gray mouse huddling in the corner of the cabin, shivering with fear and cocking its head back and forth.

The boys were in complete spaz mode. Their shrill screams could no doubt be heard in other nearby cabins and it must have sounded like an axe murder was occurring under our watch. I knew the only way to quiet the kids was to get the mouse out of our cabin, pronto.

I went back to the front of the cabin and huddled with Craig. We decided to use what we called The Hockey Method to rid the critter from our domain: I would get down and prod the mouse with a broom and, once he was in position, sweep him toward Craig, who would be standing near the door. Craig would then use a second broom to the sweep the little bastard out the door and back into nature. "He shoots, he scores!"

An important side note here: Craig is six-foot-nine and about 230 pounds of beefy bigness. And he was barefoot.

We stationed the boys on their beds and I got down on my knees to set the plan into action. Miraculously, my first poke at the mouse did the trick. The rodent felt the tickle of my broom and took off zzzzzzip right past me, and right toward Craig.

Craig had knelt down to watch me work on the mouse and was completely shocked when the varmint came bolting out of the corner and right at him. Craig was spooked, and in a purely reflexive action, he got to his feet and jumped to get out of the mouse's way. Unfortunately for the mouse, Craig timed his jump poorly.

Craig's heel landed right on top of the mouse.

And he was barefoot.

The mouse didn't know what hit it. Its body popped under Craig's weight and made a sound that I have never forgotten. It was like a great, big, fat person sitting on a whoopee cushion filled with ketchup. Blood and guts squirted out everywhere.

Craig ran screaming from the cabin and began to drag his bare foot across the dirt, trying relentlessly to scrape the mouse's squished intestines and brain matter from his naked size 14 sole. He yelped so loudly and so long "Oh my god! It's on me! Get it off! Oh my god!" that the entire camp came bolting out of its respective cabins to see what had happened. The boys doubled over, cracking up with a mixture of horror and delight. And I laughed until winter.

It was, and still is, the funniest thing I have ever seen.

Black Belt Baby

This is why I'm glad I have access to the Internet:

I'm a Beary Good Reader

The kids have a lot going on at school. Sometimes it seems that I too have a lot going on at school. Not that I mind being involved, mind you. (Except... I'm not too crazy about all the things I have to buy for the classroom. And could they give me more notice when I do need to buy something so that I don't end up at WalMart late at night (7:30 PM! Gasp!) trying to find the right kind of socks to send in the next day for a darn puppet?!?)

Ahem.

Where was I?

Oh yeah... a lot going on...

One of the many things that is required of parents is too keep track of the books the kids read at home. The teachers send home blank forms (my son's is titled "Books (insert name here) Has Read" and my daughter's form is titled "Beary Good Readers". I hate that "Beary". It hurts me. A lot.) and you write in every book you or your child read and send a form in for every ten titles read. Evidently, there is a prize for 50, 100, 200, etc...

Well, (and you knew there would be a well with me, didn't you?) I've been diligently writing down the title of every single book we have read. Library books, school library books, old books they've had since they were more interested in eating them than reading them - all of the above. And I thought we were coming along nicely. Until I heard from my son's teacher that some students are nearing their 100 books. And we're still somewhere in our 30's.

I heard that and was stricken with horror. Am I not reading enough? How exactly am I going to fit more books into their day? And it brought back memories of last year when my son started at this school mid-year and at the end of the year there was a presentation of all the students who read above and beyond their "Beary Good Reader" requirements and they all got awards except him because I didn't know I was supposed to keep track of the books we read and, dammit, we read lots of them and now he didn't get an award and was it too late to write down the titles because I think I can remember some of them and please let me know that it is something I'm supposed to do next time!

Sorry, a little emotional about it all.

So now I'm wondering why it is we are behind some of the kids in total number of books read. Do their parents have other people come in and read books to their children? Like a pinch reader? Or do they really read, like, 10 books a night? I'd like to think it's because here at our house we spend more time discussing the book and going over words and illustrations; we are about quality, not quantity. (That's what I'd like to think.)

So you can see that I'm now on a mission to include more books on their lists, lest they be behind, and not "beary" good readers after all. I have started to write down the titles of the books they read for homework, like The C Book and also All About Me. While they may not be books that are cataloged at the local library, they are technically books, right?

I've also started to consider writing down books that we would have read, if those darn kids didn't get so tired at night. (What, don't you think that counts?) And maybe I'll write down books we see on TV. And I'm even considering writing down books that they see me read. Because I am an avid reader and often read a book a day.

You don't think their teachers will think something is awry when they see the titles Always Time To Die and Twice Kissed on the kids' lists, do you?

Nightmare.

My daughter came downstairs this morning looking very sad. She was all teary-eyed and sniffley. And my heart went out to her. (Although she is very dramatic and is often teary-eyed and sniffley.)

"What's wrong sweetheart?"

"Mom, *sniff* I had a bad dreeeeaaaam. *wail*"

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"Um, *sniff* it was my birthday..."

"Mmm-hmm."

"And, *sniff sniff* there was a birthday cake...."

"Yes."

"And, *wail* everybody ate all the pieces and I didn't get aaaaannnnyyyy." *full blown tears*

"Oh my, that is a very bad dream."

As I comforted my daughter, I told her that it was just a dream and that it would be impossible for her not to get any of her birthday cake because around here the birthday girl/boy always gets the first piece. Don't worry, I told her, it won't happen, ever.

I can't help but think this horrible nightmare stems from the other night when my husband was eating the remaining bit of my son's birthday cake. It was only a piece, you see, and it was a piece that my husband had evidently desired strongly enough that he tried to discourage our daughter from eating any. He tried to pawn off a very icky yellow cupcake on her instead! He tried to give her sub-standard cake!

No wonder it still haunts her in her dreams.

Too busy eating soup to write.

As some of you know (and some of you don't!) I am half Japanese. My lovely mother is from Okinawa, Japan. Why am I telling you that? Because I feel like I have to explain why it is I am eating miso soup right now. It's like a comfort food to me. And now that I'm not puking my guts out, I'm comforting myself with food. Because I am sick and hating it.

Did I mention I am sick?

And that I am whiney right about now because I'm sick?

But I'm feeling better now. It must be the miso. Or the fever breaking and the good night's sleep. Whichever.

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I know that my blog posts have been somewhat lacking lately. And by somewhat lacking I mean totally sucking. But, hey, I posted pictures! Pictures of the kids! And doesn't that at least bring you some joy? My excuse is that it has gotten really hectic around here lately and I never seem to have the time to get a coherent thought down. Or any other kind of thought either. I've had things happen in my every day life that I think would be great to tell ya'll about, but then by the time I sit down to write it just doesn't seem that great after all. Or it seems like too much to try and explain and I end up writing something that resembles this: We went to dance class. It was fun. And I know you guys are not really interested in anything like that. (Or are you? If so, amusing you is going to be waaayy easier than I thought.) So, you know, most of the time you get nothing from me. Sorry about that.

And on that note... that's all I've got for right now.

Sorry about the suckage.

Update.

Hello.

I am sick.

Goodbye.

Gone pouting.

Y'all are going to have to amuse yourselves today. My back is hurt (how? I don't know) and the kids are grumpy and I just don't feel like writing anything today. So, you know, come back tomorrow. Hopefully by then I'll have a little something to say.

But no promises.

Now with less sleep.

I have this thing about sleep. This thing being a heart-stoppingly maddening neurosis. I need a good night's sleep or else the following day is just ruined for me. Without sleep, I get cranky, my head hurts, my vision blurs, my skin breaks out and I am susceptible to illness. It's bad, really, really bad.

So last night, a night when I knew a good night's sleep was imperative because of the busy day that was to follow, I slept terribly. I was up the majority of the night, trying my hardest to get back to sleep. I think I only slept for about four hours, which might be enough for some people, but is not nearly enough for me.


I was talking to my husband about it this morning, and he pointed out that I sleep horribly every Sunday night, and every other night that I feel I've got to get plenty of sleep. You see, I am my own worst enemy. In my need to sleep, I put so much pressure on myself that I make it so I cannot sleep. Smart of me, huh.

So tonight I will sleep. I will not put so much pressure on myself to sleep.

(I will end up putting so much pressure on myself to not put pressure on myself that I probably will not sleep. And that's how my life goes...)

Birthday post #3 (mostly picture version)

We went bowling to celebrate my son's birthday. And also we had to kill some time before going to meet my husband's family at Pizza Hut to have a joint birthday party for my son and his cousin, whose birthday is the 23rd, and is almost exactly a year younger than my son. (My sister-in-law went into labor not long after leaving my son's 1st birthday party - back in 1999. That little boy of hers heard about all the cake and presents and decided to get the heck out of there, already.) So here's us bowling: (Well, everyone - except me. The one picture of me turned out so horribly, I decided to spare you the sight.) (Ha! Get it? "Spare" you the sight? I'm too funny.)

Birthday post #2 (all picture version)

Birthday post #1

Happy birthday, Son. I can't believe that are seven years old now. It truly boggles my mind how quickly the years have gone by, and I am a little fearful about how quickly the rest will go. I'm scared that one day I'll turn around and instead of a small child standing in front of me, I will see a grown man. You have already shocked me several times with your wise-beyond-your-years responses to questions and your maturity. And then, at other times, I still see my sweet little boy - the one who said "gimme gu-me" and held up his arms for me to hold him. I'm glad that little boy is still in there, for even though you are seven now, you will always be my baby boy.

(Opening the first of his birthday presents. These are from Sara and her family. They always know exactly the right thing to give.)

You are a wonderful boy who is full of wide-eyed wonder at the world. Most of the time, you are blissfully unaware of what is going on around you, and I love that about you. You live in your own little world - and what a wonderful place it is; it is filled with Jedi Knights and lightsabers, race cars, and robots. You are a child who does not have a competitive bone in your body; who is content to cheer for friends and strangers alike. You are full of kindness and love (except, at times, when it comes to your sister.) And I love you. We all do. We always will.

(She got a present from Sara's family too. And as always, it was perfect.)

Baby-related food memories.

Yesterday, I fed the baby baked potato and cottage cheese. All mixed up together. And it reminded me of all the time I spent in England, going to the markets and buying hot 'jacket potatoes' filled with cottage cheese. I remember how yummy it tasted, and how nice it was to hold onto something warm on the days my fingers were so cold I thought they were going to just fall off. How I loved to wander the markets and look at all the things for sale. The Doc Martens, the CD's and tapes, the various odds and ends that enthrall a high-schooler with money to burn. Ah, memories. Right now, I'm especially remembering the The The CD I bought - the one with Dogs of Lust on it. Love that song.

And all of that brings back the memories of England; how much fun I had and how much I loved it there. And how much I loved my friends. And... oh, gosh, I think I'm getting all misty-eyed. I must stop now.

I also fed the baby avocado, and he loved it. And I was all like, you love avocado? Me too! Have more avocado! I love avocado! You love avocado! I can't believe you love avocado too! And then I was thinking, avocado, what a strange word. Avocado, avocado, avocado. Also, it's fun to type.

Avocado.


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And now, ta-da, pictures of the boy, In uniform. And he looks fierce, doesn't he.

(Please ignore messy living room.)

(Also, the child looks weirdly red - and the pictures are horrifically (is so a word; is so spelled like that!) dark - please ignore that too.)

Mission (not really) accomplished.

I have pictures! Of my little boy in his tae kwon do uniform! And I want to post them! But I can't. Because they are still not uploaded. And Blogger won't let me post them. Because Blogger is a bitch, if you must know. Blogger is very temperamental and moody. Blogger is just plain pissy about these things (these things being posting pictures.)

Yeah Blogger, I'm talking about you - whatcha going to do about it, huh?

(Please don't do anything bad, Blogger, because the whole not posting pictures thing is bad enough, if you did something even worse, like not let me post anything, I might just lose my marbles. So I'm sorry for calling you a bitch, okay? Can we just be friends now? Please?)

So, aaaanyway, back to Tae Kwon Do. We went again last night. And my son enjoys himself so much. He's starting to get the whole kick thing down too. And the Hiyaa! sound too. He's still going to have to work on his jumping jacks though. When they do some to warm up, he gets the whole hands up, feet apart thing mixed up. His hands go up and his feet go together. Then he tries to get the feet and hands to match up and he ends up concentrating on his feet so much he forgets to move his hands, and then he jumps wrong all over again. It's like an endless cycle of mixed up jumping jacks. And it's kind of painful to watch, honestly. But then I looked over at another little boy last night, this one in a green belt, and saw that his jumping jacks resembled an injured bird trying to take flight (his arms were flapping ferocioulsy,) and I figured that maybe my son was doing okay. And I keep reminding myself that even though I pay enough money a month that the boy should be a black belt, all that really matters is that he's enjoying himself and feeling good about the whole thing. To which I can say, mission accomplished. (George Bush style - only he'd be wearing a Tae Kwon Do uniform and standing under a Korean flag.) (Oh, yikes, maybe not.)

So I'll continue to periodically try to post some pictures of the boy - until then... have a good one.

Birthday'o'rama

Happy Birthday to my dad. You are a wonderful man that we miss very, very much. I hope you have a good day!

Also, Happy Birthday to my niece. I miss her very much too.

Running around like a chicken... with it's head... well, you know.

You know how things can go from boring and easy to hectic and hard in an instant? Well, that's where I'm at now, the hectic and hard part. My week of vacation has made it so hard to get back into the routine. Add dance and tae kwon do classes into the mix, and it just seems like things are on a nonstop route to what the hell am I doing?

Yesterday we took my daughter to her first dance class. We being me, my son, and the two kids I babysit. It's hard to get yourself organized when all the kids are 6 and under. But somehow, I managed. And I'm quite proud of myself for doing so. I even survived the long walk up and down steps and through the gymnasium floor to get to the bathroom for the little kids - 3 times. I was sweating by the end of it (do you know how heavy a 25 pound baby becomes after carrying him for about an hour nonstop?) but I did manage to make it out alive.

My daughter enjoyed herself, and she looked so cute up there. She especially enjoyed the tap dancing portion, which, I mean, can you blame her? Any little girl would love to strap on those shiny black shoes and make all those little tap noises. I'll try and get pictures next time...

So I survived my extremely long and busy day yesterday, but when I got home, I just wanted to collapse into a heap and snore my way into the next day. That's not what happened, mind you, but it's what I wanted to do. No, when we got home the lovely tasks of feeding the children and doing homework (which, WTF is up with a first grader having spelling homework, and 2 sheets of math homework, and 2 books to read all in one night?) and getting everyone clean and into bed early because we're all still sick with this cold-to-beat-all-colds awaited me. Thankfully I had my husband here to help. Without him, I would be dead, and writing this from the grave. Which, really, would be quite a task in and of itself.

Anyway, did I have a point? I'm not really sure anymore. Just know that I'm tired and already wishing it was a weekend so I can rest. (We got invited to do something this Sunday, but I said we had plans. Yeah, plans to sit around in our PJ's and watch TV all day!)

Weekend.

We spent yesterday helping my pregnant sister-in-law move into their new house. And I found out that evidently, I'm useful! In a good way! I can hang blinds! And organize a moving truck! I am just overflowing with useful skills.

And because I'm exhausted and sick with that god-awful cold my husband has shared with the family (he's so generous) and I'm in full Nanny mode with the return of the other children, this is all I'm going to write for now.

Oh, and this:

"Mommy, how did the baby get into Aunt P****'s tummy?"

(Now that is the hardest thing I've had to deal with this weekend.)

The week in review.

Well, our van is home, sitting back in the driveway where it belongs, and *cross your fingers* fixed. I'm a little more than frustrated with the whole debacle, but happy it's all done and over with. (The van and it's new computer haven't taken over the world (yet) but they have rendered one of my keyless entry thingies useless. Beware a van who gets a new computer and takes a week to get it reprogrammed.)---------------------

My son went to his second Tae Kwon Do class last night. This time the whole family went to watch. What he lacks in skill he makes up for in enthusiasm. So I guess spending his car/college fund on lessons is worth it... ---------------------

Speaking of spending money, I am going to take my daughter out this morning to get her some of the gear required for her dance class on Monday. I'm dreading all of the bows and frilly things I know she'll desire - I am not a very girlie-girl - but I am also excited that she'll be excited. And she'll be oh so cute, too. ---------------------

This weekend we are helping my husband's sister and her family move into their new house. They just had it built and finally closed on it on Thursday. They're first time homeowners, and I'm so excited for them and their beautiful new house.So I'll be away from my computer (maybe) (if I can stand it) and will check back in on Monday. That's when my vacation will be officially over. Now I must go off into a corner and quietly weep...

Pure joy.

For several years now, my kids have wanted to be involved in 'other' activities. Like dance class. Or soccer. Or karate.

Well, yesterday I signed them up. My daughter will be attending dance (ballet and tap) on Mondays, and my son will go to Tae Kwon Do three times a week. (Or twice... or maybe just once... but he can go three times a week if he so desires.)

All I can think is, what the f*ck did I just do?!? I'm not really ready for the shuffle that involves picking them up at school, doing homework, grocery shopping, shuttling them to activities and having the kids I babysit (the three year old and the one year old) all in tow. Am I crazy?!?

Why yes, apparently, I am.

And did you know that when they quote you the monthly cost of lessons, and then you factor in the gear/clothes you will need, it will cost you more than you could ever imagine? It will cost you so much that you will not be able to sleep at night? It will cost you so much that you wish you had enough time to get a second job so you could pay for it without eating ramen noodles twice a week for dinner? Because that's how much it's all going to cost. Yes siree, it's going to cost that much.

But I'm willing to do it all. My daughter is so excited to finally go to dance class. And my son went to Tae Kwon Do for the first time last night. You should have seen his face - pure joy. I'm willing to do a whole heck of a lot for them.

Apparently.

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On a completely different note, I want to wish my big brother a Happy Birthday! Love ya, Hito!

My allegiance for a pair of jeans.

Last week (or was it the week before?) I sent out desperate emails. I was desperately seeking a pair of jeans. My only problem? I didn't know what kind of jeans I should be desperately seeking.

I have been frustrated for a couple of years now. I kept on searching for a pair of jeans that would fit my hips, waist and not be too tight on my thighs. A pair that would not stretch too tight over my badunkadunk (and what a badunkadunk I have, my friends.) I wanted a pair that did not have 'stretch'. I hate that almost all of the new jeans have 'stretch'. They do not seem to work for me; they only seem to make things worse. I also did not want a pair of the new 'skinny' jeans. I am not long and lean, so I do not want a pair of jeans that are made for people who are long and lean. So I was a little lost.

Then, oh, then an email came from the woman who will now forever be known as my savior (you can call her Sara.) She had knowledge that I had only previously wished for, and graciously, she shared her knowledge. She told me about a pair of jeans that were available in 'short', that did not have stretch, that were cut a little more relaxed in the thigh, and had a low rise, but were not low enough to expose your underwear every time you sat. She told me where to get them, and what colors they came in (not nearly enough!)

And based on her opinion alone (well, also, I was leaning towards trying these jeans because I used to wear some from this store before I had kids, and they fit really well then,) I ordered a pair off of the internet. I ordered a pair of jeans without even trying them on. It was a bold move I have made before, with very bad results. This time, however, I hoped things would end up differently, and I would finally find a pair of jeans that fit well.

On Tuesday, I received the jeans in the mail. I tried them on, and was a little unsure. But I washed them anyway, and wore them for the first time yesterday. And Oh My God, those are the best jeans ever. The truly are everything Sara said they would be. They fit so amazingly well. All except for the fact that they are still a little too long because my legs are impossibly short (but, you know, you can't have everything.)

So Sara, thank you for letting me know about AE Favorite jeans. And thank you for telling me the best way to get them was online. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you.

*I tried to put a picture of the jeans here, but Blogger wouldn't let me put a picture in. Blogger and I don't really have a good relationship. Yet I keep coming back. Dysfunctional, I know.

Out of the vortex.

So I'm on vacation from work and it's like I've been sucked into this weird time-space vortex thingey and I've forgotten how things were just a week before. The children need to be at school when? Trash day is what day? I have a blog?

I don't know what has happened to me, but here it Wednesday, and I'm still looking around wondering where all the time has gone. Granted, we did spend yesterday at home. (We being my husband and I.) You see, he's come down with the plague. Or something equally as bad. And he spent yesterday in some sort of fever and sinus induced fog, shivering in the easy chair while watching very bad daytime television. And I read a book.

We did manage to run out to WalMart and buy my son a copy of Lego Star Wars II for Xbox. It was the first day it was in the stores, and we didn't want our precious little boy to have to go longer than a day without it. You see, we've spent all this time spoiling him rotten, so why ruin all the time and effort put into such a worthy task. We must keep up the spoiling, lest he become mild mannered and grateful. We wouldn't want that to happen, now would we. (We gave it to him as an early birthday present.)

And today we went and bought him a new comforter for his bed. We also bought my daughter one, although she doesn't really need a new one like my son. We just had to keep on spoiling her too. You know, so the mild mannered and grateful thing doesn't happen to her either. But, and this is in my defense, the comforters were on sale at Kohl's and I had a $20.00 coupon, and I only ended up paying $13.98 for two comforters. Not bad, huh.

All this went on while my van sits at the dealership. We brought it in on Monday morning, and as of Wednesday afternoon, it still isn't ready. It ended up needing some sort of something-or-other for it's computer. And all I can think is, what is my van doing with a computer? Is it surfing the web? Buying things on Ebay? Should I be worried about my van and it's new computer? Could they be plotting against me? Whatever my van and it's computer are doing, it sure isn't fixing itself. Maybe it's on vacation too.

Murphy's law sucks.

You know what happens when you are off of work, right? You get sick. Just ask my husband; he's suffering right now. The one week you are off - completely and totally off of work - you come down with some nasty sore throat-sinus thing. And to top it all off, my son seems to be suffering too. Which may mean he stays home from school. The one week I will be child free, and I end up with a house full of sick ones. Go figure.

(I'm still holding out hope that they will feel better tomorrow. Keep your fingers crossed for me - oops, I mean, them.)

I'm singing that Go-Go's song.

Did I mention that I'm on vacation today?

That means no children to babysit; no children, period, because mine are going to school... Woohoo!!

And my husband is off of work (although it may take an act of congress to keep him away from work for a full week.)

So where are we off to after we drop the kids off? Someplace exciting? Thrilling? Relaxing?

We're going to go get my van looked at (the "service vehicle soon" light keeps coming on) and his truck needs mechanical attention too (something about injectors and axle grease.)

Fun!

(Also, we're going to go out to lunch somewhere that does not serve chicken nuggets and cheeseburgers. That really will be fun!)

Yellow means walk.

Our children's school uses a color-based system for behavior. As in, you start out the day on green, any trouble will put you on yellow, and if you are particularly deviant, you are placed on red. We strive for green cards around here. (But we do not always get them.)

My daughter: "Mommy, I got a green card today."

Me: "Good. I'm proud. Did anyone get a yellow card today?" (The second day of kindergarten)

Daughter: "Yes. Three people."

Me: "Really?!? On their second day of kindergarten?"

Daughter: "Mm-hmm. And if you get a yellow card, you have to walk laps."

My son: "Yep. You have to walk 5 laps around the playground when you are on yellow."

My husband: "Well then son, you must have walked a lot of laps last year."

Son: "Oh yeah."

Report card - Day 2

My daughter started school this week.

On her first day, my son and I walked her to her classroom. The mother of the children I babysit was kind enough to keep her children home that morning so that I could have the opportunity to walk my big girl into school. My son was given the duty of making sure she made it into the correct classroom, and also picking her up at the end of the day and walking her out to the car line. (He's a big first grader, and also a know-it-all, so the duty was taken with all seriousness.)

When we walked to the classroom, I told my son he didn't have to go in, he could just continue on down the hall to his room. He stood there a few minutes, internally debating whether or not that constituted dereliction of duty. Then, deciding it would be all right to leave her in the hands of her mother, but wanting to make sure she did make it into the room lest he be considered irresponsible, he gave her a firm shove through the door.

Once we entered the kindergarten room, I could see my daughter grow nervous. She was excited to be there, but she suffers from an attack of the 'shyness' often. So I tried to give her all of the bravery I could by gently stroking her hair and letting her get acclimated. Once the 'shyness' attack abated a little, she found her cubby and hung her backpack up. Then she immediately returned to my side. After more hair stroking, I encouraged her to get her lunch box out of her backpack and put it on the designated shelf. That, it seems, was too much to ask. It required more than hair stroking. It required a firm "Go ahead, I'll be right here" and I also had to get down on my knees to show that I was right there for her. Well, after shoring herself up once more, she did go get her lunch box. And she put it on the correct shelf. And then she returned triumphantly to my side. (There's nothing like the look of accomplishment on a child's face!) After that, the teacher took over and I said my goodbyes. I was tearless and happy for her. I knew she would have a good day.

The tears came later. (Did you doubt there would be any tears?) They started when I pulled up in front of the school in the afternoon pick-up car line and I saw my two babies walk out of the building, hand in hand. They were scanning the cars looking for theirs. And then when they spotted me, a huge smile lit up their faces. And I teared up. I teared up as soon as I saw them exit the building, and even more tears came when I saw their beautiful smiles. It still makes me tear up a little, just writing about it. Those are my babies, and they are growing so fast.

Well, today I dropped them both off at school in the car line. It was the first time I did that. (The kindergarteners had a staggered start - one half went Wednesday (like my daughter) and the other half went Thursday (which meant she was home then) and they all go today.) I made sure my son knew that he was still in charge of making sure she made it into her classroom (hopefully without the shove this time) and they both exited the van and grabbed each other's hands. And I saw them in my rearview mirror as I drove away - they were walking hand in hand into the building. My babies... *sniff*

An ineresting post, with pacific details.

This has been bothering me since last night. It has bothered me so much, in fact, that I have decided to give it it's own post. SO here goes:

But first, a disclaimer: I know that when I write things on here I do not always follow the rules of grammar. In fact, sometimes, I break them on purpose. I like to add extra commas, use dashes when they aren't really necessary, and sometimes I just butcher the English language for the hell of it. But I'm aware of it. I'm also aware of the fact that this is not any sort of thing that is going to be published. It is not for a newspaper or magazine, or for any school-like project. It is for me, and I do what I want to with it.

So when teachers send home newsletters with horrible punctuation and use the wrong word in sentences, well, that drives me crazy. They are teachers, for god's sake. They are the ones who should know better! Call me crazy, but I expect them to understand the basic rules of grammar - and, um, use them.

(Like that dash I used up there? I'm totally breaking the rules. But I can because I'm not expected to follow the rules. Ha!)

And another thing that bothers me - when teachers mispronounce a word. Like, say for instance, and I'm just pulling this out of the blue, it wasn't what I heard my daughter's teacher say last night, not at all - like when someone says "inerested" instead of "interested" or "pacific" instead of "specific". All I can think is, how on earth did you make it out of college without ever learning how to pronounce the word?!?

I know that I am not perfect. I'm sure I mispronounce plenty of words. And I'm not saying I'm better than they are. I'm just saying that it is something that maybe, just maybe, they should work on.

Because, really, that whole "inerested" thing drives me crazy!

School days.

Here they are - the pictures that Blogger would not let me post. (You are so not my friend anymore, Blogger!) (Except now that you're letting me post pictures again, maybe I can forgive you.) (Maybe.)

This is my son on his first day of school. Notice the intense mental preparation, otherwise known as XBox.And this is when I told him to stand by the door so I could take his picture. Notice how sweet and kind he looks.
Here he is, going to school. Notice the look of apprehension. Or maybe it's just the look he gives me when he's tired of me taking his picture.

Here's my daughter eating her breakfast. PB&J and chips. And chocolate milk. (It's what she requested, and I couldn't very well turn down a girl who was going off to school for the first time, could I?)

And here she is in the skirt that she picked out herself and insisted she wear on the first day of school. I would have picked out something very, very different. But, you know, she practically grown now and all.
Here's the pink backpack. The backpack that took a very, very long time to pick out. She wanted something with glitter and pictures of princesses on it. I wanted her to go with something plain and simple. This is the compromise (although I think I won.)

And now they're both officially in school. It's very, um, hmm, not as weird as I thought it would be. I think the first day of preschool was more of a monumental thing for me to handle. Today is the day I've been waiting for - today I am free. Well, except for the fact that I have a 3 year old and a 1 year old coming over any minute now. So I'm not really free after all. So, you know, oh well.

To Do List.

Things to do today:

• Clean toilets - this one is a must, enough said.
• Scrub bathtubs - any bets on whether or not this one gets done? But it's something that will soon be a 'must do'.
• Label school supplies - oh, another 'must do' because it's my daughter's first day tomorrow!
• Wash dishes - or rather, load dishwasher. You don't think I actually wash things by hand, do you? In fact, I've been known to shove things that barely fit into the dishwasher, and put it through two cycles to get it clean. That's how much I hate to hand wash dishes.
• Laundry - for the record, I hate laundry. I wish we had enough clothes to last for months, so I wouldn't have to do it so often. But then the dirty clothes would overtake the house and maybe spread out into the street, so I guess I'll just keep it the way it is. But I can still grumble whilst I fold!

And this is what I've been reduced to - publishing my To Do list on the internet. It's bad, ya'll. Really bad. Send help. And cookies. Or brownies. (And milk.)

(And someone to tackle that To Do list.)

Report card - the first week.

Don't you just love a day off? (Well, a paid day off, that is. If you're not being paid, it just seems like a day that you are not able to work; like you would be there to earn your days worth of pay if it wasn't for the stupid holiday and work being closed. But if you're being paid, well, that's different. Then it's a bonus, and you couldn't be dragged into work for anything because it's a holiday, gosh darn it.) I'm sitting here with my cup of coffee and my whole day ahead of me, and I'm loving it.

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I thought I would go ahead and talk a little about my son's first week at school. I know that there may be a few of you (Hi Grandparents!) who are wondering how it is going. Well, let me tell you - he's loving it. He loves his teacher and her assistant. He likes his classmates. He's even bought lunch in the cafeteria - twice - and drank chocolate milk both times. He has not had any adjustment issues or gotten in trouble for acting out. It is like night and day compared to the issues he had last year when he first started this school. And I think it's all based on the fact that he has a teacher that he gets along with.

And speaking of the teacher from last year... guess who my daughter has as her kindergarten teacher? Yuppers. The very same one my son had. The one that did not do well with my boy and who made things very tough at times. But... but, I think she'll be a much better fit for my daughter than she was for my son. Those two kids are so different, you wouldn't even think they were raised by the same people if it wasn't for the fact that they look so darn much alike. So don't be disheartened, I think my little girl will do well in her class. She'd do well in school regardless of her teacher, I think. And she's looking forward to going so much. Her first day is Wednesday - wish her luck.

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Now I better go get myself ready for the day. For even though it is a day off (squeeeeel!) I still have to go to the grocery store and clean up this house a little bit. And I figured if I got an early start, I will still have time to just lounge around and do nothing. Ah, nothing - how I love it so.

Lovely things.

I've spent a good deal of my morning shopping. Online. And not actually buying anything. Just monitor-shopping. And since I don't have anything to post about (I've given you all the sappy love I can the past couple of days,) I figured I would present you with links. Links to things I desire, or just plain love to look at.

• First off, I like these mugs. I like the retro look, and I think they're just plain cute.
• Next, I bring you salt and pepper shakers that so adorable I think I may just have to buy them. Although, I'm not sure if "adorable" is necessarily what my husband wants on his dinner table.
• These I would buy if I had a little baby girl, even if they are totally useless. Anyone know of a little baby girl I can buy these for?
• I love this bracelet, even though I don't wear jewelry. I just think it's oh so pretty.
• I'd love 4 of these to go on my front porch and upstairs balcony. In white, please.
• And I'd love this sofa to go in my front room. In a different color, though.

And now I must go - my husband is dragging me to the gym. I haven't been in a while and I think he's ready to knock me over the head and take me there whether I want to go or not. (And not because he thinks I need to lose weight or anything, he wants the company. Oh no, he'd love it if I put on a little weight, not lost any it.)

Sharing the love.

Do you know what I love? What I love with all of my little heart (that some people think has no room for love?) Jalapeno Cream Cheese Poppers.

(What? You were expecting a person? Or maybe an activity? We're talking about me here people.)

And let me tell you, I worship at the altar that is cream cheese and jalapenos. Throw in some breading and deep frying, and I'm in it for life. I may, in fact, love it so much that I am eating it for breakfast right now. Just maybe. And just maybe, I had a little bit yesterday too. And if I didn't think my husband would have me commited for an unusual obsession with these tasty treats, I would eat it every day. Every. Day.

Instead, I buy them every once in a while and dole myself out some, little by little. For this, my arteries thank me. My hips are also grateful. Oh, and my husband; he's grateful too. You see, he hates the stuff. Anything with cream cheese in or around it makes him gag at the mere thought of it passing his lips.

But me, I am in love.

No candles, but we had flashlights.

Happy birthday to you.

Happy birthday to you.

Happy birthday dear hubby,

Happy birthday to you.

The day started off really crappy with a Tropical Depression and the power going out at 3 AM. While most people would sleep right through a power outage, we were all up and miserable. And with less than 3 hours of sleep, I am not a woman anyone would want to be around. (I hope I can talk the kids into going to sleep for several hours this afternoon.) But I want you to know that I love you, you old man!