The following conversation happened this evening. It is also a prime example of why I really shouldn't homeschool our oldest punk- I can't even teach a three year old.
Littlest Punk (AKA #2): Do you see the potato Dadda?
Charley: What potato?
#2: That potato (while pointing at the TV)
Charley: Oh do you mean the volcano?
#2: No, its a potato. Can you say po-tay-toe?
Charley: Yep I can say potato but that is, in fact, a volcano.
#2: No Dadda, Momma said that is a po-tay-toe....
Charley: (scowling in my general direction) Well, Momma might be wrong on this one...
#2: No Dadda, your wrong! Say po-tay-toe! Say it!
More scowling. And maybe an evil eye. In my own defense, I do not recall ever telling her a volcano was a potato. Or ever talking to her about volcanoes in general. Then the madness continues when my phone vibrated its self off the table.
#2: Momma, your walkie talkie is moving!
Me: Oh thats nice dear,
#2: Here Momma, its your walkie talkie!
Me: Ok, just put it on the table.
Charley: Geesh B-Dub, what a nice walkie talkie you have.
Me: Huh? I'm sorry, what are we talking about, I wasn't exactly paying any attention to you two.
Charley: (more scowling)
Typical night in our house. Welcome.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
Culture, in a small dose.
Perhaps you remember that I decided to homeschool my oldest punk this year. Perhaps you don't, or perhaps you are new and never knew it in the first place. Anyway you slice it, you all now know that I am. Only, not for much longer cause this Momma is sending the Punk back to public school. The boy needs to go, and I need some sanity, and he told me he likes it better cause he has more friends. Thats fine with me! And not the reason for this post at all, but my ADD has kicked into high gear today.
Last night we started reading Douglas Adams's "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy." If you can handle abnormal, this is the book for you! Come join the crazy with me, while I expand your horizons a bit with an excerpt:
Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun.
Orbiting this at a distance of roughly ninety-eight million miles is an utterly insignificant little blue-green planet whose ape-descended life forms are so amazingly primitive that they still think digital watches are a pretty neat idea.
...
Most of the people living on it were unhappy for pretty much of the time. many solutions were suggested for this problem, but most of these were largely concerned with the movements of small green pieces of paper, which is odd because on the whole it wasn't the small green pieces of paper that were unhappy.
...
Many were increasingly of the opinion that they'd all made a big mistake in coming down from the trees in the first place. And some said that even the trees had been a bad move, and that no one should ever have left the ocean.
And there you have it Interwebby Friends, social commentary from 1952. Sorry to say that not much has changed.
Question: What made you write a trilogy in four (later 5) parts?
Douglas Adams: A poor grasp of arithmetic.
My kind of guy right there!
Last night we started reading Douglas Adams's "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy." If you can handle abnormal, this is the book for you! Come join the crazy with me, while I expand your horizons a bit with an excerpt:
Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun.
Orbiting this at a distance of roughly ninety-eight million miles is an utterly insignificant little blue-green planet whose ape-descended life forms are so amazingly primitive that they still think digital watches are a pretty neat idea.
...
Most of the people living on it were unhappy for pretty much of the time. many solutions were suggested for this problem, but most of these were largely concerned with the movements of small green pieces of paper, which is odd because on the whole it wasn't the small green pieces of paper that were unhappy.
...
Many were increasingly of the opinion that they'd all made a big mistake in coming down from the trees in the first place. And some said that even the trees had been a bad move, and that no one should ever have left the ocean.
And there you have it Interwebby Friends, social commentary from 1952. Sorry to say that not much has changed.
Question: What made you write a trilogy in four (later 5) parts?
Douglas Adams: A poor grasp of arithmetic.
My kind of guy right there!
Thursday, January 21, 2010
I'll Keep You My Dirty Little Secret
I know that you know that I know that you know that we just moved last month so I will spare you a re-run of that story. There is one thing that has plagued me since we moved in to our newbie house. See, the basement is also the garage/laundry room/storage area. Multi-purpose to the max!
It also happens to be the "dump it here" area for all the crap I haven't put away yet. Well, last night I had enough. Charley got home early from work and I was waiting at the door with whip in hand. Oh yes, it was on! He was going to help me clean out that garage/laundry room/storage area. No choice, I was putting my foot down.
So he says "Why don't you get started while I change out the struts on your car?" And I'm all tired of getting motion sick from whole rocking in the ocean feel my car has adopted and think this is an acceptable alternative to cleaning the garage. I put the whip away and followed him down the stairs into the abyss.
And when I say abyss I mean this:
Here it is for all the world to see. My dirty little secret.
But really, its not so bad because all the crap at the far end of the pic is all going to Goodwill. See, we got some new furnisher and just threw the old stuff down there. Down in the abyss. And see there is tons of baby crap that I'm giving to my Bestie Bekum for little Ty.
And so prolly 75% of the crap shown in going bye-bye. Unfortunately, that still means I have to organize it, and find homes for the remaining 25%. No biggie, I'm SupaWoman.
Only, maybe not so much on the Supa part. My legs aren't really wanting to move today, and my back is killin, and I can barely make my arms move enough to reach the keyboard. Why did I lift the dang dirtbike? I now see the error of my ways. You win this round Yamaha. Just you wait, I'm heading to the gym and then I'll be back.
And the struts? My loving, sweet, didn't help me clean the dang garage at all, hubby started working and 4 hours later still hadn't finished the FIRST ONE. And, to make it better, he left my car in pieces to finish at some later point when he can get around to it. Pieces people. Like without the front wheels and springs and crap. Those are spread out all over the now mostly clean garage. And I am stuck in the house with two Punky Punks. No means of transportation available.
Shoot me.
It also happens to be the "dump it here" area for all the crap I haven't put away yet. Well, last night I had enough. Charley got home early from work and I was waiting at the door with whip in hand. Oh yes, it was on! He was going to help me clean out that garage/laundry room/storage area. No choice, I was putting my foot down.
So he says "Why don't you get started while I change out the struts on your car?" And I'm all tired of getting motion sick from whole rocking in the ocean feel my car has adopted and think this is an acceptable alternative to cleaning the garage. I put the whip away and followed him down the stairs into the abyss.
And when I say abyss I mean this:
Here it is for all the world to see. My dirty little secret.
But really, its not so bad because all the crap at the far end of the pic is all going to Goodwill. See, we got some new furnisher and just threw the old stuff down there. Down in the abyss. And see there is tons of baby crap that I'm giving to my Bestie Bekum for little Ty.
And so prolly 75% of the crap shown in going bye-bye. Unfortunately, that still means I have to organize it, and find homes for the remaining 25%. No biggie, I'm SupaWoman.
Only, maybe not so much on the Supa part. My legs aren't really wanting to move today, and my back is killin, and I can barely make my arms move enough to reach the keyboard. Why did I lift the dang dirtbike? I now see the error of my ways. You win this round Yamaha. Just you wait, I'm heading to the gym and then I'll be back.
And the struts? My loving, sweet, didn't help me clean the dang garage at all, hubby started working and 4 hours later still hadn't finished the FIRST ONE. And, to make it better, he left my car in pieces to finish at some later point when he can get around to it. Pieces people. Like without the front wheels and springs and crap. Those are spread out all over the now mostly clean garage. And I am stuck in the house with two Punky Punks. No means of transportation available.
Shoot me.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Random Thought on a Random Day
There are a lot of bloggers who have specific formats for specific days of the week. I am not one of those. In fact, I have NO rules about posting. I used to wanna write a blog each and every single day; but then two kids, 1 seizure having dog, and a military spouse put an end to that dream. Now you just have to wait for this awesomeness until I can find the time to write it. So there.
I don't want to make promises I can't keep. Instead of designating a specific day to post random thoughts I will instead post them on random days. Ha. Take that structure and planning! Up yours! So here is the random thoughts on this, the very first day of Random Thoughts on a Random Day!
1. My hubby bought me Fat Free cream for my coffee. Should I take this as a not so subtle hint that the B-Dub Booty is getting a bit out of hand?
2. The reason for having kids is to make your hips stick out really far so you don't have to lean while balancing the laundry basket on one side and a three year old punk on the other. Its all about correct spine alignment. Safety first!
3. The reason the Army switched uniforms is so that the guys (read: the wives) don't have to iron anymore. Wash and wear! Sounds great right? Except my hubby is a pack rat and won't throw away the 39 old uniforms (both BDU and DCU variety) or any of the super matchy matchy gear that goes with it. Serious- is there any reason to keep 395 ammo pouches in DCU colors? Nope. But he does.
4. My cookie consumption makes me feel like an addict. I have to hide while eating them or else the kids will expect me to share. How can I teach them good eating habits while consuming massive quantities of cookies for breakfast? Simple, I make them breakfast and then grab a handful of cookies to munch on in the privacy of my bedroom. Too bad I then have to lug the vacuum up the stairs to get rid of the evidence. Not to mention the indigestion that follows due to eating with too much swiftness.
5. Is there a magical way to make a 3 year old girl stop screeching? How about tattling? No? I'm screwed.
6. You know your kid is the next Tyra Banks when she starts strutting before she can even walk unassisted.
And now I will leave you, Bloggy Friends, to revel in the awesomeness of my random ramblings.
I don't want to make promises I can't keep. Instead of designating a specific day to post random thoughts I will instead post them on random days. Ha. Take that structure and planning! Up yours! So here is the random thoughts on this, the very first day of Random Thoughts on a Random Day!
1. My hubby bought me Fat Free cream for my coffee. Should I take this as a not so subtle hint that the B-Dub Booty is getting a bit out of hand?
2. The reason for having kids is to make your hips stick out really far so you don't have to lean while balancing the laundry basket on one side and a three year old punk on the other. Its all about correct spine alignment. Safety first!
3. The reason the Army switched uniforms is so that the guys (read: the wives) don't have to iron anymore. Wash and wear! Sounds great right? Except my hubby is a pack rat and won't throw away the 39 old uniforms (both BDU and DCU variety) or any of the super matchy matchy gear that goes with it. Serious- is there any reason to keep 395 ammo pouches in DCU colors? Nope. But he does.
4. My cookie consumption makes me feel like an addict. I have to hide while eating them or else the kids will expect me to share. How can I teach them good eating habits while consuming massive quantities of cookies for breakfast? Simple, I make them breakfast and then grab a handful of cookies to munch on in the privacy of my bedroom. Too bad I then have to lug the vacuum up the stairs to get rid of the evidence. Not to mention the indigestion that follows due to eating with too much swiftness.
5. Is there a magical way to make a 3 year old girl stop screeching? How about tattling? No? I'm screwed.
6. You know your kid is the next Tyra Banks when she starts strutting before she can even walk unassisted.
7. Some people's babies look like Monkeys.
8. I used to think that my oldest would be the next Tiger Woods. Now I'm glad he gave up that dream.
And now I will leave you, Bloggy Friends, to revel in the awesomeness of my random ramblings.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Things in Common
Ya know how they say dogs often look like their owners? Well, as it turns out Chubaca and I have a bit more in common than some brown hair and green eyes! Poor dog.
Chubaca suffers from a seizure disorder. Sounds yuckier than it is. He doesn't have many episodes these days thanks to finally finding the right meds. These days he rarely has the full blown, whole body seizures- usually his head shakes a bit and if I catch it at that stage I can stop the seizure before it gets bad. His head shakes, while unfortunate, are often kinda funny to see. PETA people stop reading now.
He starts with what I call the "Old Man" shake. Just a slight side to side motion that is sometimes hard to see. If I don't catch on right away the shake gets worse. He looks like he is shaking his head "No," hard enough that his ears start a-swinging, and his lips start flapping. Oh, the sound of lips flapping- imagine a dog in a car with his head out the window- lips flapping in the breeze.
This morning Charley and I were talking about it and a light went off in my wee little brain. Chubaca's head shake is soo like my soon to be patented B-Dub Booty Shake. Once it gets started there is no stopping, no telling where we will wind up. Who knew that doggie seizures were just his way of trying to be more like me!!!
Of course, the fact that my dancing resembles doggie seizures doesn't say much for my dancing ability. But, and I'm gonna brag a bit here so look out, my little bro totally had me give dancing lessons to him and his friends when I was like 15 and he was like 13. Yeah, it was totally in the 90's, and grunge isn't all that hard to dance to, but what-ev. I was asked by pre-pubescent boys to give dancing lessons. I was soo the coolest thing since sliced bread. Or maybe his friends had crushes on me cause I was the older, hottie sister.
One of these days I am going to get a video uploaded of my little bro and his friend playing the clarinet singing a jingle they made up for Tylenol. It was a school assignment, and they were like 12, couldn't (and still can't) sing. Hysterical. But I digress.
My ADD is kicking in, can you tell? But on a cool note: My wee baby bro made the front page of the New York Times! Check him out! I love the slide show that goes along with it. He is a Vet, he served deployments to Iraq with the Chair Force, I mean Air Force- and then worked as a civilian in Iraq for 3 more years. The article touches on his experiences there and what it is like trying to adjust to life back in the states. And don't tell him I said so, but he makes me proud. Even if he is a pesky little brother who sings jingles about Tylenol.
He starts with what I call the "Old Man" shake. Just a slight side to side motion that is sometimes hard to see. If I don't catch on right away the shake gets worse. He looks like he is shaking his head "No," hard enough that his ears start a-swinging, and his lips start flapping. Oh, the sound of lips flapping- imagine a dog in a car with his head out the window- lips flapping in the breeze.
This morning Charley and I were talking about it and a light went off in my wee little brain. Chubaca's head shake is soo like my soon to be patented B-Dub Booty Shake. Once it gets started there is no stopping, no telling where we will wind up. Who knew that doggie seizures were just his way of trying to be more like me!!!
Of course, the fact that my dancing resembles doggie seizures doesn't say much for my dancing ability. But, and I'm gonna brag a bit here so look out, my little bro totally had me give dancing lessons to him and his friends when I was like 15 and he was like 13. Yeah, it was totally in the 90's, and grunge isn't all that hard to dance to, but what-ev. I was asked by pre-pubescent boys to give dancing lessons. I was soo the coolest thing since sliced bread. Or maybe his friends had crushes on me cause I was the older, hottie sister.
One of these days I am going to get a video uploaded of my little bro and his friend playing the clarinet singing a jingle they made up for Tylenol. It was a school assignment, and they were like 12, couldn't (and still can't) sing. Hysterical. But I digress.
This is one of the pics from the Times. It kills me, as the older, much wiser, sister I have seen this face before. Usually when I was right and he was wrong.
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