No, not my dentist, of course, the kids' dentist. ;) Ordinarily, when The Girl hears the word "dentist", she immediately vomits, so this time I didn't tell her anything. I just said we all had a super-secret field trip and we had to leave at 10:00 to get there. I dressed and brushed everyone, and off we went.
Okay, by now, you're thinking, "Why does The Girl vomit upon hearing the word 'dentist'?" When she first started going to the dentist, about six years ago, they cranked the chair back and started brushing and cleaning, assuming that the little suction hose would clean up all that spit and soap, keeping her from gagging and then vomiting. You guessed it -- wrong. Ever since, she has either puked or refused to be put in the chair.
This time, she got her standing x-rays (not bite wings!) and then sat down on the chair (cranked as upright as they could get it) and let them polish and scrape her teeth. No flossing, no major scraping, no flossing, no fluoride rinse, but she was happy when she finished and got not one but three lip glosses from the treasure drawer.
The Boy did fine, too, but he's always fine. Thank God for small mercies...
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
The Boy Code of Conduct.
So The Boy was playing tag with the others after piano class this morning. (Don't we sound cultured!) Other Boy was accusing The Boy of faking a stomach ache and was taunting him by clucking. Both boys, of course, were complaining to me. I told Other Boy that it wasn't nice to call names, and he claimed that clucking wasn't the same as calling someone a chicken. I asked him what it meant then, and he insisted that it wasn't name calling. Before a fight broke out, I called The Boy over and told him that if Other Boy wanted to act like a poop-head, he could, but that he (The Boy) didn't have to play with him. Two minutes later, Other Boy follows me to the car, complaining that The Boy said that I had called him a bad name. Blah, blah, blah.
On the way home, The Boy tried to explain the subtle playground nuances of name calling, noise making, and when it's okay. I sighed and said, "I'll never understand boys." He looked up and said reassuringly, "You'll learn someday."
I doubt it. I think it's beyond my mortal powers.
On the way home, The Boy tried to explain the subtle playground nuances of name calling, noise making, and when it's okay. I sighed and said, "I'll never understand boys." He looked up and said reassuringly, "You'll learn someday."
I doubt it. I think it's beyond my mortal powers.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
To sleep, perchance to dream. Mmm.
I had the most wonderful dream this morning. I was enchanting, irresistible, popular and happy. The Husband appeared in my dream, young and funny. He swept me off my feet and married me before I could even get my old wedding band off. He was gallant, charming, and irresistible. We were young and dashing.
I was woken by an autistic 10-year-old girl demanding that I get up and bring her a pink bra to the TV room. That thump you just heard was my heart, hitting the floor, rolling under the couch and getting covered in dust bunnies. I never did recover.
Now I've paid all the bills, answered my email, submitted a reimbursement form, and am blogging. Time? Waaaaay to late.
I was woken by an autistic 10-year-old girl demanding that I get up and bring her a pink bra to the TV room. That thump you just heard was my heart, hitting the floor, rolling under the couch and getting covered in dust bunnies. I never did recover.
Now I've paid all the bills, answered my email, submitted a reimbursement form, and am blogging. Time? Waaaaay to late.
Scouts and field trips. Feh.
Is it me, or are the homeschool moms here getting more competitive? Fortunately, I am seriously starting to care less.
And is anyone else out there not the "field trip" type? I use soup-to-nuts curriculum because I have no self-discipline. How can I cover agriculture in the Midwest if I'm constantly taking the kids places they don't want to go?
There's a subtle but critical difference between Parents' Night Out and Cub Scouts, and I need to find out what it is. Parents' Night Out is about following one's bliss. Cub Scouts is about sitting and listening to someone blab on about first aid, and then having to make charts of what should be in a first aid kit. The Boy was actually trying to climb out of his skin and escape the last Cub Scout meeting I took him to. (Someone mentioned that at the last camp out, the scouts were working on a math belt loop after breakfast. Oh yeah, let's all sit down now. It's time for math class. Heh?)
Maybe it'll come to me later.
And is anyone else out there not the "field trip" type? I use soup-to-nuts curriculum because I have no self-discipline. How can I cover agriculture in the Midwest if I'm constantly taking the kids places they don't want to go?
There's a subtle but critical difference between Parents' Night Out and Cub Scouts, and I need to find out what it is. Parents' Night Out is about following one's bliss. Cub Scouts is about sitting and listening to someone blab on about first aid, and then having to make charts of what should be in a first aid kit. The Boy was actually trying to climb out of his skin and escape the last Cub Scout meeting I took him to. (Someone mentioned that at the last camp out, the scouts were working on a math belt loop after breakfast. Oh yeah, let's all sit down now. It's time for math class. Heh?)
Maybe it'll come to me later.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Magic
Ah, the magic of being young. The Boy went to Parents' Night Out at the church tonight. Basically, they feed the children chicken nuggets and tater tots, then let them run around like crazy, watch a VeggieTales show, then good off some more. Then we have to go get them.
I arrived to pick The Boy up ten minutes early tonight and found him cuddled up with fifteen other little kids in a circle on the floor, playing "gossip" with Miss Cathy. One kid starts the gossip with something like, "My cat eats goldfish", the message is whispered around the circle, until the last child calls out what she heard, usually something like, "Michael wears goof wish." Then they all dissolve into helpless giggles until someone is able to start it going again.
These are the memories of childhood that are supposed to stay with him forever -- on the cold tile floor of a badly lit church hall with fifteen of his best friends in the whole world.
"I never had such good friends as I did when I was 10. Man, does anyone?"
I arrived to pick The Boy up ten minutes early tonight and found him cuddled up with fifteen other little kids in a circle on the floor, playing "gossip" with Miss Cathy. One kid starts the gossip with something like, "My cat eats goldfish", the message is whispered around the circle, until the last child calls out what she heard, usually something like, "Michael wears goof wish." Then they all dissolve into helpless giggles until someone is able to start it going again.
These are the memories of childhood that are supposed to stay with him forever -- on the cold tile floor of a badly lit church hall with fifteen of his best friends in the whole world.
"I never had such good friends as I did when I was 10. Man, does anyone?"
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
Steppin' into the Aughts and a case of the doldrums
Yup, we're stepping into the 2000's. I now have a laptop with wireless internet. I can dance around the house while surfing the internet. Not that I generally would, what with my pitiful battery life. But if I wanted to, I could! And did I mention -- I installed it myself? Oh, yeah. Who da mom?!
So, what else is going on here? Hmm. Not much.
The Olympics are on. Hm. Figure skating, crazy people on sleds, sports so inaccessibly hard that they fail to be interesting.
There was a cat fight at the Women's Colony. Was that movie director too fat to be entitled to sit in one seat? Was he entitled to be fat? And didn't he check the airline policy before trying to fly his fat butt from Los Angeles to San Francisco in one seat?
The Husband is sick again, this time with a sore throat and aches.
The Boy is being obstinate and rude during homeschool. "I can't do this! I don't want help! I can't do this! No, don't help!" It's like he's got a split personality or something.
I'm still trying to find some science curriculum for The Girl. By the time I finish The Boy's Calvert curriculum, she's too far into her PBSKids afternoon shows to get her back for any. She just doesn't get abstract things well, and quite frankly, she doesn't want to do science anyway. *sigh*
I keep trying to get out and move my rain barrel, but I just can't disentangle the kids long enough to get it going. Maybe tomorrow.
Valentine's Day? When was that? Our effort this year can only be called pitiful. I didn't even make cake for the kids, not to mention any "husband action". Forget about it.
I feel like we're in a doldrums or something. This calls for drastic measures. I wonder what that should be.
So, what else is going on here? Hmm. Not much.
The Olympics are on. Hm. Figure skating, crazy people on sleds, sports so inaccessibly hard that they fail to be interesting.
There was a cat fight at the Women's Colony. Was that movie director too fat to be entitled to sit in one seat? Was he entitled to be fat? And didn't he check the airline policy before trying to fly his fat butt from Los Angeles to San Francisco in one seat?
The Husband is sick again, this time with a sore throat and aches.
The Boy is being obstinate and rude during homeschool. "I can't do this! I don't want help! I can't do this! No, don't help!" It's like he's got a split personality or something.
I'm still trying to find some science curriculum for The Girl. By the time I finish The Boy's Calvert curriculum, she's too far into her PBSKids afternoon shows to get her back for any. She just doesn't get abstract things well, and quite frankly, she doesn't want to do science anyway. *sigh*
I keep trying to get out and move my rain barrel, but I just can't disentangle the kids long enough to get it going. Maybe tomorrow.
Valentine's Day? When was that? Our effort this year can only be called pitiful. I didn't even make cake for the kids, not to mention any "husband action". Forget about it.
I feel like we're in a doldrums or something. This calls for drastic measures. I wonder what that should be.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Childhood Obesity?
Just hanging out, sitting on my butt, listening to Michelle Obama and Tiki Barber discuss childhood obesity. Sitting. On my butt.
Still, scary stuff. These kids with diabetes at 5 years old will need kidney transplants at 30 years old. Talk about an expensive disease. Still my kid is on the edge of overweight. Why? Beats me.
He eats cereal for breakfast (half cheerios, half sugar cereal). He grazes in the morning during school (yogurt, cheese stick, corn chips, Cocoa Puffs). He has a sandwich, chips, and fruit for lunch. He grazes a little more in the afternoon, and then has a reasonable dinner (meat, starch, veggies). He's given up ice cream after every dinner as being babyish.
Exercise? About a half hour a day outdoors, trying to avoid doing school.
He keeps asking me, "Why do I have to eat healthy foods? If I'm too healthy, I'll be bouncing around!" Umm. No.
So, what to do? He only has playgroup for running around on Wednesday. He doesn't have buddies to go biking with, and I hate to take him on the adult trudge around the block. So what's left? Anyone?
Still, scary stuff. These kids with diabetes at 5 years old will need kidney transplants at 30 years old. Talk about an expensive disease. Still my kid is on the edge of overweight. Why? Beats me.
He eats cereal for breakfast (half cheerios, half sugar cereal). He grazes in the morning during school (yogurt, cheese stick, corn chips, Cocoa Puffs). He has a sandwich, chips, and fruit for lunch. He grazes a little more in the afternoon, and then has a reasonable dinner (meat, starch, veggies). He's given up ice cream after every dinner as being babyish.
Exercise? About a half hour a day outdoors, trying to avoid doing school.
He keeps asking me, "Why do I have to eat healthy foods? If I'm too healthy, I'll be bouncing around!" Umm. No.
So, what to do? He only has playgroup for running around on Wednesday. He doesn't have buddies to go biking with, and I hate to take him on the adult trudge around the block. So what's left? Anyone?
Friday, February 12, 2010
Cats. Can't live with them. Can't pop them on the fanny.
I had to put the cats on house arrest today. Yes, seriously. They tipped over two sodas and one glass of water, dumped a flat of seedlings onto the carpet, and then tried to eat the rest of the seedlings. Who knew that cats like tomato... plants. By 9:30, the kids and I rounded them up and LOCKED them in the bedroom. They had access to the master bathroom where we keep the litter box, but the food was still in the kitchen. I was SO MAD! Now they've discovered that there's more catnip at the bottom of the cardboard cat scratch pad, so the stoners have dismantled it. What a mess... Anybody want a cat? Or two?
It continues to be what we down here call "cold". It's 55 and raining. Brrr. The playland at McDonalds was packed -- with children who, based on my observations, may not quite yet be continent. Eww. I always want to disinfect the kids when the come out of those things.
Sorry to whine so much. It's the weather. At least you can ski on snow. Have fun, Yankees!!
It continues to be what we down here call "cold". It's 55 and raining. Brrr. The playland at McDonalds was packed -- with children who, based on my observations, may not quite yet be continent. Eww. I always want to disinfect the kids when the come out of those things.
Sorry to whine so much. It's the weather. At least you can ski on snow. Have fun, Yankees!!
Thursday, February 11, 2010
So, so C-O-L-D! ;)
Want to know how cold it is in our little corner of paradise?
Bummer. I found out that the video doesn't work... Here's what it looks like: Two kids swinging in the backyard, neither one wearing coat, hat, long pants, or shoes -- yet wearing mittens. I ask The Boy what he's wearing. He says, "Mittens!" I ask, "Why?" He says, "Because it's COLD!!"
Bummer. I found out that the video doesn't work... Here's what it looks like: Two kids swinging in the backyard, neither one wearing coat, hat, long pants, or shoes -- yet wearing mittens. I ask The Boy what he's wearing. He says, "Mittens!" I ask, "Why?" He says, "Because it's COLD!!"
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Late to bed and early to rise makes...
Late to bed and early to rise makes mom a crazy bitch.
Seriously, what gives with this? Why am I always last on the list of "people who must sleep now"? Apparently, The Husband (as Breadwinner) is first on the list. The Girl is second, because she has the most delicate sleep cycle. Then comes The Boy, who must sleep or he'll try to sleep through homeschool and not sleep the next night either. Then, and only then, comes Mom. That's right -- I'm last on the list of people who "need" to sleep.
Last night, The Girl fell asleep on the couch in her daytime clothes. I put The Boy to bed at 9:00, but since he had napped during math time, he didn't get to sleep until 11:30. We moved The Girl to bed around 11:00, but she woke when I put her into pajamas. She wanted to run around screaming, sleep on the couch and/or sleep in my bed. I opted for "sleep in my bed", which meant that I couldn't move her out of my bed for another hour, lest I wake her again. Meanwhile, The Husband, complaining that he needed to sleep, went to bed, too. By 12:30, I was too tired to move The Girl out of my bed, so I just slept on the couch.
Up again at 6:30 when The Boy started messing with The Girl's television schedule.
Late to sleep and early to rise...
Seriously, what gives with this? Why am I always last on the list of "people who must sleep now"? Apparently, The Husband (as Breadwinner) is first on the list. The Girl is second, because she has the most delicate sleep cycle. Then comes The Boy, who must sleep or he'll try to sleep through homeschool and not sleep the next night either. Then, and only then, comes Mom. That's right -- I'm last on the list of people who "need" to sleep.
Last night, The Girl fell asleep on the couch in her daytime clothes. I put The Boy to bed at 9:00, but since he had napped during math time, he didn't get to sleep until 11:30. We moved The Girl to bed around 11:00, but she woke when I put her into pajamas. She wanted to run around screaming, sleep on the couch and/or sleep in my bed. I opted for "sleep in my bed", which meant that I couldn't move her out of my bed for another hour, lest I wake her again. Meanwhile, The Husband, complaining that he needed to sleep, went to bed, too. By 12:30, I was too tired to move The Girl out of my bed, so I just slept on the couch.
Up again at 6:30 when The Boy started messing with The Girl's television schedule.
Late to sleep and early to rise...
Monday, February 8, 2010
Howdy stranger...
Oh, good Lord, has it been that long? Sheesh. Maybe I'll take up blogging again for Lent.
Either way, we've gone through several computers in the last month. The Mother Computer failed completely with the blue screen of death, and has been in the shop for a month. We tried to use the Ancient Laptop for a while, but it was just way too short on memory. Now we're on the -- wait for it -- New Laptop. Whoo-eee!
But I really just logged on to say how cute the laundry is getting. When I hang the bras on the drying rack, I now hang a few of mine and a few of The Girl's. How cute! Tragically (and somehow cuter) they both have the same cup size. ;) The Girl has a better rack at 10 years old than I ever had...
Either way, we've gone through several computers in the last month. The Mother Computer failed completely with the blue screen of death, and has been in the shop for a month. We tried to use the Ancient Laptop for a while, but it was just way too short on memory. Now we're on the -- wait for it -- New Laptop. Whoo-eee!
But I really just logged on to say how cute the laundry is getting. When I hang the bras on the drying rack, I now hang a few of mine and a few of The Girl's. How cute! Tragically (and somehow cuter) they both have the same cup size. ;) The Girl has a better rack at 10 years old than I ever had...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)