Ah September, fall is in the air, really it is, it’s a bit nippy in the evenings when we sit on the patio for the after dinner smoke. The sun’s going down sooner and you can just feel it. I love fall. It used to be my favorite season until we bought a house, now it’s second to spring because I love me the hell out of some gardening.
So, this is The Boy’s first full week of school. Friday, his fourth day of kindergarten, his teacher called me. The Boy was taunting 3rd and 5th graders in line waiting for the bus after school. He was calling them idiots. This, I didn’t have too much of a problem with; it was the fact that he sassed not only his teacher, but also the assistant principal and another teacher when they told him to behave. He threw a fit, threw his book bag, copped an attitude. All was not well. He was punished. (30 minutes in his room; no videos all night) Not harsh enough the hubby said.
Since then The Boy has found a drawer in the kitchen where he’s decided to leave his attitude. I hope it stays there and we forget about it and it spills out into the cabinet underneath, sneaks out when we open the door to get cereal and then makes a b-line for the door, through the garage and out into the neighborhood to live elsewhere.
The Girl is quite happy in third grade. It’s a milestone year in elementary school. The first year the smart kids get separated into the AG (academically gifted class)—The Girl is in AG. It’s the first year they take a foreign language, though they don’t have a choice, it’s Spanish. It’s the first year they can run for student council—she wants to run for something. It’s also the first year they can try out for the school talent show. The Girl wants to sing. On stage. She’s inherited my singing voice. This is not good. We have until January to work on this.
The Girl has moved on from her obsession with the news, thank God. While I liked her interest in current affairs (she certainly gets it from her Dad, not me) the news is scary and depressing. She’s only 8; the news is too graphic for 8 year olds. Her latest craze is one I can support. She’s an Animal Planet junky—especially Animal Cops. She wants to work for the ASPCA; she wants to arrest people who hurt animals. This is a good thing. She’s also a bit of a vegetarian, but that’s nothing new really. She doesn’t like eating a lot of meat (beef, chicken, pork) although move out of the way if you put down the really bad stuff like sausage, bacon or ham. She’s been known to eat a hamburger too.
All things considered, my kids are great. We sat together last night and watched The Wizard of Oz. The Boy decided he's over his fear of the wicked witch (he's had it for two years.)
Thursday, September 8, 2005
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
In the news
I’m the first to admit that embarrassingly enough, I don’t keep up with current events, politics or the news. However, I have been watching the coverage of Katrina and of the 12-year-old girl that disappeared from Rocky Mount, N.C.
Katrina—these are the things that stick out in my mind. The looting, as my friend Donut would say, REALLY? This catastrophe has occurred and people are actually out there looting stores? That can’t be good karma on any level. Last night the media sunk so low they were reporting on the reporters covering the hurricane. Granted it has to be a gut-wrenching experience, but do we really need a news story on how they’re handling it? It’s sad, yes. But don’t make the reporters the story. The final thing that struck me was how dependent we are on our infrastructure. People there are wandering the streets not knowing what to do next. They can’t contact their city or state officials, or anyone “in charge.” It’s scary to think we’ve become such lemmings when we claim to be so independent. I’m not criticized the victims, I’m just commenting on how incredibly fragile society really is when you think about it.
Disappearing girl—An Amber alert went out last week for a missing 12-year-old girl from Rocky Mount, N.C. I heard the alert on my way to pick up the kids from daycare. She was suspected of being in the company of a registered sex offender. Last night they found her in Iowa, alone. The girl lives with her grandmother, who’s her legal guardian and the girl apparently knew this sex offender, a clerk at a local convenience store. It looks as if she left her house of her own accord. She’d met this guy, who’s 27, a year ago and they’d formed a friendship.
As a mother I have a million questions. First, how does a then 11 year old meet and become friends with a 26 year old without the parent/guardian knowing about it? It went on for a year—why didn’t the grandmother know? How does a convict get a job? I know they ask that question on most job applications, perhaps he lied? Don’t they do background checks? How does a kid get out of the house without your knowing about it? God forbid mine ever sneak out of the house. I know I had friends in high school that did that, but this kid is TWELVE! There is so much to this story that isn’t being told. Why would a 12 year old want to leave her family with a 27 year old? Am I that naïve to ask that question? I swear, the next time someone tries to tell me I’m too overprotective with my kids I’m going to tell them to get bent.
Katrina—these are the things that stick out in my mind. The looting, as my friend Donut would say, REALLY? This catastrophe has occurred and people are actually out there looting stores? That can’t be good karma on any level. Last night the media sunk so low they were reporting on the reporters covering the hurricane. Granted it has to be a gut-wrenching experience, but do we really need a news story on how they’re handling it? It’s sad, yes. But don’t make the reporters the story. The final thing that struck me was how dependent we are on our infrastructure. People there are wandering the streets not knowing what to do next. They can’t contact their city or state officials, or anyone “in charge.” It’s scary to think we’ve become such lemmings when we claim to be so independent. I’m not criticized the victims, I’m just commenting on how incredibly fragile society really is when you think about it.
Disappearing girl—An Amber alert went out last week for a missing 12-year-old girl from Rocky Mount, N.C. I heard the alert on my way to pick up the kids from daycare. She was suspected of being in the company of a registered sex offender. Last night they found her in Iowa, alone. The girl lives with her grandmother, who’s her legal guardian and the girl apparently knew this sex offender, a clerk at a local convenience store. It looks as if she left her house of her own accord. She’d met this guy, who’s 27, a year ago and they’d formed a friendship.
As a mother I have a million questions. First, how does a then 11 year old meet and become friends with a 26 year old without the parent/guardian knowing about it? It went on for a year—why didn’t the grandmother know? How does a convict get a job? I know they ask that question on most job applications, perhaps he lied? Don’t they do background checks? How does a kid get out of the house without your knowing about it? God forbid mine ever sneak out of the house. I know I had friends in high school that did that, but this kid is TWELVE! There is so much to this story that isn’t being told. Why would a 12 year old want to leave her family with a 27 year old? Am I that naïve to ask that question? I swear, the next time someone tries to tell me I’m too overprotective with my kids I’m going to tell them to get bent.
Words or phrases I like
Many people, like my husband, collect things, lots of things. He collects beer steins (because we lived in Germany back in the day), mementoes from the area we lived in, neon signs, etc. I do have a spoon collection and I used to collect penguins; I have a lot of Christmas ornaments but I don’t know if that’s considered a collection.
What I really collect are quotes (because someday I’m going to publish the world’s best quote book), words, phrases and pictures from magazines (usually gardening things).
Here’s a brief sample from my words/phrases collection. Most of these are either things I’ve heard people say or have popped up in my reading.
Intellectual eunuch
Chasing alligators
Hemorrhaging money
Monomania—excessive concentration on a single object or idea
Kef—state of dreamy tranquility (have thought this would be a great name for a retail store if I ever lose my mind and open one)
Hippocrene—fountain on Mount Helicon sacred to the muses and believed to be the source of poetic inspiration
Meliorism—belief that the world tends to become better and that man can aid its betterment.
Limn
Sine cure—an office or position that requires little or no work
Arrondissement—an administrative district of some large French cities
Paramnesia—memory discorder where proper meaning of words cannot be remembered
Paronym—word formed from a word in a foreign language
Paraldehyde—liquid used as a hypnotic
Hookah den
Faux bois
Geophagy—practice of eating dirt
Schadenfreude—enjoyment obtained from troubles of others; delight in others misfortunes
Couch candy
Omnia vincit amor—love conquers all
Multi-potential drifter
Buskering
wunderkamme
What I really collect are quotes (because someday I’m going to publish the world’s best quote book), words, phrases and pictures from magazines (usually gardening things).
Here’s a brief sample from my words/phrases collection. Most of these are either things I’ve heard people say or have popped up in my reading.
Intellectual eunuch
Chasing alligators
Hemorrhaging money
Monomania—excessive concentration on a single object or idea
Kef—state of dreamy tranquility (have thought this would be a great name for a retail store if I ever lose my mind and open one)
Hippocrene—fountain on Mount Helicon sacred to the muses and believed to be the source of poetic inspiration
Meliorism—belief that the world tends to become better and that man can aid its betterment.
Limn
Sine cure—an office or position that requires little or no work
Arrondissement—an administrative district of some large French cities
Paramnesia—memory discorder where proper meaning of words cannot be remembered
Paronym—word formed from a word in a foreign language
Paraldehyde—liquid used as a hypnotic
Hookah den
Faux bois
Geophagy—practice of eating dirt
Schadenfreude—enjoyment obtained from troubles of others; delight in others misfortunes
Couch candy
Omnia vincit amor—love conquers all
Multi-potential drifter
Buskering
wunderkamme
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Spitting on Destiny
Spitting on Destiny
An evil spirit that has come to reside in my five-year old son has disrupted life in my household over the last two weeks.
This makes me sad on many levels. This is my baby, the last child I will ever bear; the period on the end of my motherhood sentence. (I know, a bit dramatic, but hey, it’s my blog.) My last-born is my outgoing child; friends with everyone, mostly happy, affectionate, loves telling jokes, even the horrible ones he makes up (What do you get when you cross a hippo and a fish? A: A hiccup. How do you get a skunk to pee on your house? A: With a firequacky.)*
Because of this, it is especially hard to witness the possession I hold accountable for his behavior of late. Just this week, during assembly at daycare this cherubic, sweet little boy turned to the little girl sitting beside him and said: You know, both you and your brother are ugly. While shopping for his Dad’s birthday present this unselfish, charming lad sat down in the middle of the aisle and pouted because I would not by him a Batman toy. (Note: same boy has more Batman figures than I can count on one hand.)
That brings me to today. This morning we had his kindergarten orientation. We dropped my incredibly-well-behaved-beautiful-smart-sassy-third grader off at her classroom, she was excited and happy to be back in school; she even made up a little song and dance last night about going back to school, which she sang while twirling around in the sprinkler after dinner. (She does have her moments, but thank God she’s counter-balancing the evilness by being close to perfect lately.) After dropping the angel off in her classroom, the devil and I had to take care of some bus routing issues in the office. I finished and we had an hour to kill before we had to be back for his orientation. The devil threw a tantrum IN THE PRINCIPAL’S office the day before his first day of kindergarten! I quickly ushered him out, took him home and punished him. At that point I discovered he’d gone commando, yet again. Devil, go put on some underwear.
Alas, the day didn’t end there. After orientation, where he seemed oh so excited and glad to meet his teachers and interested in what they’d be doing I took him to daycare. His father got a call around noon. My dear, thoughtful son spit in Destiny’s face (she’s the little girl he said was ugly earlier this week I’m sure). Not just a raspberry, but a full blown loogie. Dad made a visit to the daycare; we’ll be talking sentencing, I mean punishment, this evening.
*These were two jokes he told all the time when he was about 3 years old. He made them up. I have no idea why one would want a skunk to pee on your house, but you have to give him points for creativity.
An evil spirit that has come to reside in my five-year old son has disrupted life in my household over the last two weeks.
This makes me sad on many levels. This is my baby, the last child I will ever bear; the period on the end of my motherhood sentence. (I know, a bit dramatic, but hey, it’s my blog.) My last-born is my outgoing child; friends with everyone, mostly happy, affectionate, loves telling jokes, even the horrible ones he makes up (What do you get when you cross a hippo and a fish? A: A hiccup. How do you get a skunk to pee on your house? A: With a firequacky.)*
Because of this, it is especially hard to witness the possession I hold accountable for his behavior of late. Just this week, during assembly at daycare this cherubic, sweet little boy turned to the little girl sitting beside him and said: You know, both you and your brother are ugly. While shopping for his Dad’s birthday present this unselfish, charming lad sat down in the middle of the aisle and pouted because I would not by him a Batman toy. (Note: same boy has more Batman figures than I can count on one hand.)
That brings me to today. This morning we had his kindergarten orientation. We dropped my incredibly-well-behaved-beautiful-smart-sassy-third grader off at her classroom, she was excited and happy to be back in school; she even made up a little song and dance last night about going back to school, which she sang while twirling around in the sprinkler after dinner. (She does have her moments, but thank God she’s counter-balancing the evilness by being close to perfect lately.) After dropping the angel off in her classroom, the devil and I had to take care of some bus routing issues in the office. I finished and we had an hour to kill before we had to be back for his orientation. The devil threw a tantrum IN THE PRINCIPAL’S office the day before his first day of kindergarten! I quickly ushered him out, took him home and punished him. At that point I discovered he’d gone commando, yet again. Devil, go put on some underwear.
Alas, the day didn’t end there. After orientation, where he seemed oh so excited and glad to meet his teachers and interested in what they’d be doing I took him to daycare. His father got a call around noon. My dear, thoughtful son spit in Destiny’s face (she’s the little girl he said was ugly earlier this week I’m sure). Not just a raspberry, but a full blown loogie. Dad made a visit to the daycare; we’ll be talking sentencing, I mean punishment, this evening.
*These were two jokes he told all the time when he was about 3 years old. He made them up. I have no idea why one would want a skunk to pee on your house, but you have to give him points for creativity.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Depressing
One of my co-workers (a skinny young beeotch as I will call her now!) sent me this email with a life expectancy game in it. First of all, yes I realize it’s a game and you never really know when your time is up, life is a gift, live each day to the fullest, yadda yadda yadda and all that crap, but when faced with a number it can be pretty depressing.
I answered all of the questions (see the link below and take the test) honestly, and if I change nothing my life expectancy is 66! That’s 30 more years, well actually 29 because I’ll be 37 this month. That’s not enough time. So I went back and refigured some things and I can live to 90 if I lose 55 pounds, quit smoking, eat more than 5 portions of fruits and veggies a day and walk 30 minutes four times a week.
That’s a lot of life changes. Actually I think I do probably eat the right amount of fruits and veggies a day, maybe not everyday.
This is pretty interesting. Watch the age prediction on the top left of the screen change as you answer the various questions. How long do you think that you will live?
Click here: http://www.nmfn.com/tnetwork/longevity_game_popup.html
I answered all of the questions (see the link below and take the test) honestly, and if I change nothing my life expectancy is 66! That’s 30 more years, well actually 29 because I’ll be 37 this month. That’s not enough time. So I went back and refigured some things and I can live to 90 if I lose 55 pounds, quit smoking, eat more than 5 portions of fruits and veggies a day and walk 30 minutes four times a week.
That’s a lot of life changes. Actually I think I do probably eat the right amount of fruits and veggies a day, maybe not everyday.
This is pretty interesting. Watch the age prediction on the top left of the screen change as you answer the various questions. How long do you think that you will live?
Click here: http://www.nmfn.com/tnetwork/longevity_game_popup.html
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