Thursday, September 29, 2011

Remind me again...

They're supposed to be sleeping through the night by 11 years old, right? And most of that sleep is supposed to be taking place between 10pm and 7am?

'Cause, see, if they don't sleep, they get bored. And when they're bored, who do they come visit? ME!

I swear on the living God, my son woke me at 11:30 last night to show me that if he puts a pillow under his pajama shirt, he looks pregnant. I'd like to say that I didn't swear at him, but I'd be lying. Really, I didn't swear much -- until 12:30 when he woke me again to ask for a band-aid for his toe. Apparently, he felt this fulfilled the "only if you're bleeding" clause in the "Goddammit, don't wake me until morning unless you're bleeding or throwing up!"

What does a woman have to do to get a full night's sleep?! (Seriously, what does a woman have to do to get a full night's sleep? Please help.)

Monday, September 26, 2011

Bad sign?

Is it a bad sign when you dream that you've chewed your bite guard into small pieces?

Sunday, September 25, 2011

7 Quick Takes!

Some random thoughts:

1. Gee, I wish my dad would stop upgrading my IE to release 9. It really screws up my blogger.

2. The Husband had a proud parenting moment this week. The Boy fell asleep with gum in his hand and glued his hand to his crotch. I thought that only happened in fraternity pranks.

3. Is it a bad sign when you have to mop the kitchen with a plastic scraper (putty knife) in your left hand? Gee, I hope not. 'Cause if it is, I'm going to have to stop buying cookies-n-cream ice cream.

4. My OT suggested that we could set new goals for The Girl, upgrade her goals, or she (the OT) could release us. My heart almost stopped. Please, dear woman, do not abandon us!

5. If you're going to make bean soup with kale, don't use adzuki (purple) beans -- green + purple = swamp slime brown. Just sayin'.

6. The Husband and I went out for Thai food and a baroque concert on Friday. I realized sometime around dessert that it was the first time we'd been alone (and conscious) anywhere for about three months. When the kids used to sleep, we at least had 9:00 to 10:00 each evening. Now? Forget about it.

7. I have discovered this phenomenon known as "Mormon Mommy Blogs". These women are scary creative, have gorgeous children, and outrageously engaged husbands. They make gorgeous table runners with bleach pens. They make educational nature walks from glue dots. *sigh* How could a Protestant ever compete with with that?

Anyway, that's about it from here. Still hot out. Still looking for a child-safe cattle prod to make homeschool easier. Still trying to get some sleep.

Friday, September 9, 2011

Kicking ass and taking names.

I woke up to a depressingly dirty, messy house this morning. The Boy has been out of sorts for days (maybe sick?), and his room has been a total disaster area. So I thought it was about time to kick some housecleaning ass. (You weren't hoping that I actually kicked some real ass, were you?)

I've done four loads of laundry, put a ton of crap away, vacuumed the entire house, and mopped the kitchen floor. I know it doesn't sound like a ton of work, but it made a huge difference. I didn't dust, I didn't clean the kitchen cabinets -- I just cleared the furniture and cleaned the floors.

I had goaded The Boy into cleaning his room this morning, but there's just so much a boy can do.
Does this happen to you? You say, "Clean your room now boy. Clear the floor. Put the stuff where it belongs." And he says, "Okay." And you wait. And nothing happens. So you say, "Just put the stuffed animals in the bin, then, and put your shoes away. K?" So he does. You try again, "Great. Now please pick up anything made of paper -- books, pads, tissues -- and put it where it belongs. K?" So he does. But he then he starts to get wise to me. "You're making me clean my room, aren't you? Why can't you just say so? Why do you have to be so bossy?! I can clean my room!" Yeah. Right.

Anyway, when he fell asleep after lunch, I dumped his closet and re-folded it, then I vacuumed his room. Yes, that's right -- I vacuumed his room while he slept in it. Gotta love that.

So, now I'm tired. But happy. I've kicked ass and taken names. ;)

Thursday, September 8, 2011

knitting, the dentist, and swearing -- not necessarily in that order

How many times a day is healthy to mentally scream, "Shut the f*ck up!"? 'Cause I think I'm pushing the envelope... Ah homeschool, my very own nirvana.

Went to the dentist today. Actually, the kids went to the dentist today and I took them. The Boy has been seriously cheating on his brushing -- just wiping the brush around and rinsing. They busted him for it, and gave him brushing lessons and an egg timer. Haha! The Girl actually laid back in the chair for once. She was having none of the metal scraping hook or the spit-sucking tube -- sensible girl that she is. I mean, really? It doesn't look or sound like a good idea, does it?

Either way, we all escaped within an hour with our treasure box toy, and all is well. The women at checkout offered us tardy notes for the school. Heh. I told her we homeschool, and I'd write them a note myself. I'm so funny.

I've started knitting socks. Yeah, not enough to do, but if I don't get off the computer by 9:00, I'm playing spider solitaire until midnight. I need something else to do. The problem I've found now is that I have a choice between two styles of heels. One is extremely popular and the other looks easier.




I'm sure that one style is morally or structurally better than the other, but I'm not sure which. I've put out a plea to the only person I know who knits -- Suburban Correspondent. I'm sure she has an opinion... ;)

Monday, September 5, 2011

A little school and a spectacularly bad idea.

Geez, everyone else's blog is so damned erudite that I'm almost reluctant to write. That, and I'm lazy.

Anyway, we're making progress in getting school started. The Boy is getting up at 8:00 to watch the Pink Panther Show, so it hasn't been such a trauma to get him awake and moving. The Girl is getting used to working in the afternoon. Life goes on.

My dad had a particularly spectacularly bad idea last week. The other half of my brother's three-story duplex Up North is for sale, and my dad was going to buy it and move up to "help with the grandkids". Yeah. How bad an idea is this? Let me count the ways. One, he's arthritic and can't walk the distance from the street to the front door or the back door, and it's up a flight of stairs to either porch. Two, he's 77 years old and can't dig out his own car when it snows. Three, he's not agile enough to wrangle toddlers. Four, there aren't any bedrooms on the first floor, so he'd have to build one. Five, the last time he fell on ice, he broke both arms. Six, my sister-in-law hates him. Seven, my brother's half of the duplex is falling down, and my dad's half would eventually fall into it. (Can you say "removal of load bearing walls"?) Eight, my father can't keep a two bedroom apartment clean, so a three-story duplex is a bad idea. Nine, my brother (the househusband) can't even keep the first floor of his half clean, so he'll be of no help. Ten, it's an old house, so my dad would have to be making constant repairs, which he can't do. Eleven, my brother hasn't made any of the necessary maintenance and repairs to his half, so he'd be of no help. There are more reasons, but it's getting tedious listing them. What a train wreck. Fortunately, he came to his senses within a few days. I'm almost sorry he changed his mind. I think it would have been quite entertaining. From 800 miles away.