Yep. There is nothing to envy here. Nothing that will make you think: oh I wish I had that, life's unfair, why don't I live there, why can't I write like that or take pictures like that, where's my master's degree or prestigious job, why am I not that slender, pretty, smart, popular, etc. Nope. I will give you little reason to envy me, as I know that part of what we bloggers do, is take a glimpse into the life of others to compare and covet.
Then again, today my glass is 9/10th's empty, but I promise never to brag about my life during the times I feel it overflows with the little things that make it worth living.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Thursday, November 8, 2007
By the way...
The oppossum is gone! Yeah! Well, at least it's gone from the underside of the tub, because I've had several run ins with it outside at night while attempting to exit the house. Once as I was trying to take out the trash, and another time as I was trying to get in the car to go make a quick run to the grocery store.
The time I was trying to go to the grocery store, it decided to hide under the car, and I had to get "The Dada" to chase it out because I couldn't help but imagine this creature pawing at my feet as I entered the car, or its guts splattering everywhere as my car stamped its tires onto its small furry body. Yuck!
The time I was trying to go to the grocery store, it decided to hide under the car, and I had to get "The Dada" to chase it out because I couldn't help but imagine this creature pawing at my feet as I entered the car, or its guts splattering everywhere as my car stamped its tires onto its small furry body. Yuck!
Now's not a good time. Tomorrow won't be good either.
My mom called me today and asked me if I remembered that I still had a mother. Yes I did I told her, but the timing is always wrong I said. This time was not much better, as it was 7 am, and I found myself on my knees scrubbing bright red vomit out of the carpet, and trying to figure out how I was also going to remove the bedsheets to wash, and the toys that got splattered before the Bee decided to help me.
Don't worry, the bright red was not blood but a neon red Gatorade that Big Brother has been consuming for the past 4 days to keep hydrated from all the vomiting and diarrhea he's had to endure - thank you red # 40. The doctor's brilliant diagnosis was stomach flu again. "Yep, I figured you'd say that. Thanks" - I should have gone to medical school because I cleverly came up with the same diagnosis. Stomach flu, a catch all diagnosis for doctors who can't figure out what's up with all the puking and pooing that's going on with your kid. Oh ya, and he mentioned that he should come back in a couple days if he's still alive and puking.
Mom, your timing was awful, as it usually is. Calling me at 7 am is never a good time as like most nights, sleep was scarce. Calling me at 9 pm while I'm trying to get kids bathed, dishes cleaned, sometimes even dinner made, and kids to bed just because you have free minutes after 9 pm is not a good time either. 3 pm, maybe? Telling me that my snooty cousin has her own family life under control and implying I should too, does not make me want to call you.
And it's all very unfortunate, because I was waiting for a good time to call you and tell you thanks. Thanks for cleaning after me and washing my sheets when I was a kid. If it wasn't appreciated then, it is appreciated now. So maybe, when I get over our most recent call that left me quite irritated, I will call and say thanks, because being a mom, I now how thankless and redundant this job can be.
Don't worry, the bright red was not blood but a neon red Gatorade that Big Brother has been consuming for the past 4 days to keep hydrated from all the vomiting and diarrhea he's had to endure - thank you red # 40. The doctor's brilliant diagnosis was stomach flu again. "Yep, I figured you'd say that. Thanks" - I should have gone to medical school because I cleverly came up with the same diagnosis. Stomach flu, a catch all diagnosis for doctors who can't figure out what's up with all the puking and pooing that's going on with your kid. Oh ya, and he mentioned that he should come back in a couple days if he's still alive and puking.
Mom, your timing was awful, as it usually is. Calling me at 7 am is never a good time as like most nights, sleep was scarce. Calling me at 9 pm while I'm trying to get kids bathed, dishes cleaned, sometimes even dinner made, and kids to bed just because you have free minutes after 9 pm is not a good time either. 3 pm, maybe? Telling me that my snooty cousin has her own family life under control and implying I should too, does not make me want to call you.
And it's all very unfortunate, because I was waiting for a good time to call you and tell you thanks. Thanks for cleaning after me and washing my sheets when I was a kid. If it wasn't appreciated then, it is appreciated now. So maybe, when I get over our most recent call that left me quite irritated, I will call and say thanks, because being a mom, I now how thankless and redundant this job can be.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Quote of the Day
As my oldest son was changing out of his nighttime diaper and pulling up his underwear, he tilted his butt cheeks to the side, grinned, and exclaimed "I have a sexy boo-TY momma!"
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Monday, October 22, 2007
OOO...Possum!
We have a squatter in our midst. This squatter has decided that the underside of our fiberglass tub makes a cozy home. It is unfazed by the constant trickle of water, two screaming kids who like to jump on it, the thunderous waterfall that our shower head produces, and my futile attempts to scare the bejeezus out of it by beating at the bathtub until my wrists turn blue.
It has occupied its new home for three weeks now, and despite that it has never once offered to pay rent, it struts around our property as if it owns the place. Tonight, I decided to be more clever than this carrier of fleas, as once again it was strutting outside my bedroom window getting into our recycling and flaunting his sense of entitlement to all the goodies our property has to offer.
My plan was/is as follows:
First spot the intruder making sure he has gotten far enough away from his makeshift front door to his lair.
Second, with the help of my lovely assistant (a.k.a. Dada) board up opening with the help of many, many heavy stones.
Third, continue to listen for more rustling sounds coming or hopefully not coming from the underside of the bathtub in the days to come for the possibility that our intruder found another way in or left us its brood. (This last part was what was keeping us from getting rid of our friend because the idea of his soon to be dead brood rotting in the underside of our bathtub made us want to puke!)
Lastly, plug hole around drain if no strange smell or noises come from the underside of the the tub. Otherwise, admit defeat and cough up a few hundred dollars to hire a professional.
Place your bets. More to follow...
It has occupied its new home for three weeks now, and despite that it has never once offered to pay rent, it struts around our property as if it owns the place. Tonight, I decided to be more clever than this carrier of fleas, as once again it was strutting outside my bedroom window getting into our recycling and flaunting his sense of entitlement to all the goodies our property has to offer.
My plan was/is as follows:
First spot the intruder making sure he has gotten far enough away from his makeshift front door to his lair.
Second, with the help of my lovely assistant (a.k.a. Dada) board up opening with the help of many, many heavy stones.
Third, continue to listen for more rustling sounds coming or hopefully not coming from the underside of the bathtub in the days to come for the possibility that our intruder found another way in or left us its brood. (This last part was what was keeping us from getting rid of our friend because the idea of his soon to be dead brood rotting in the underside of our bathtub made us want to puke!)
Lastly, plug hole around drain if no strange smell or noises come from the underside of the the tub. Otherwise, admit defeat and cough up a few hundred dollars to hire a professional.
Place your bets. More to follow...
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Bee's Playground Yummies
Bee has not taken very well to table foods. He will eat anything mushy out of a jar, pieces of bread or delicious snack food, and the occasional bowl of rice. He also likes to indulge in eating the many non-edible yummies the playground has to offer. On the menu are ...
Rocks: He likes to eat these by the fistful - literally. Some times he tosses these in buckets and pretends they're some delicious liquid drink. Other times, he just treats them as snack food. I've caught him many times with a mouthful of rocks.
Sand: Bee enjoys eating sand as much as some kids enjoy eating their purple pixie sticks. I guess there's nothing like crunching on some nice salty kitty litter sand.
Domes and poles: These of course must be treated as lollipops.
Random bottle caps: Good to chew on, especially when ones teething.
Littered candy wrappers: Bee likes to pretend these are gum.
Swings, shovels, other random well-nastified toys: Bee treats these much like a dog treats their beloved dog bone.
Lest you think I'm a poor mother, this kid is quick and an awesome scavenger. Mommy on the other hand is tired, sleepy, and usually trying to watch the elder boy while following the Bee.
Rocks: He likes to eat these by the fistful - literally. Some times he tosses these in buckets and pretends they're some delicious liquid drink. Other times, he just treats them as snack food. I've caught him many times with a mouthful of rocks.
Sand: Bee enjoys eating sand as much as some kids enjoy eating their purple pixie sticks. I guess there's nothing like crunching on some nice salty kitty litter sand.
Domes and poles: These of course must be treated as lollipops.
Random bottle caps: Good to chew on, especially when ones teething.
Littered candy wrappers: Bee likes to pretend these are gum.
Swings, shovels, other random well-nastified toys: Bee treats these much like a dog treats their beloved dog bone.
Lest you think I'm a poor mother, this kid is quick and an awesome scavenger. Mommy on the other hand is tired, sleepy, and usually trying to watch the elder boy while following the Bee.
P.P.S. I Don't Know Everything.
Big surprise, huh? People seem to think that teachers should know everything, and should be perfect, but most don't know everything, and all are imperfect. We make mistakes just like everyone else, and that's okay. In writing this blog, I will make many, many, MANY mistakes, especially interchanging homynyms. The thing is, I actually know which ones to use, if I didn't I would just go here , but I'm always in such a rush since I do have two screaming kids in the background constantly demanding my attention. If I do make a mistake, you can politely e-mail me a little note so that all can be write right in the world.
P.S. I Love Teaching.
I know it may sound like I don't love teaching, but I really do. I love how its never boring, always challenging, and its always such a rush to hear kids scream "I get it". I love how you have to constantly think on your feet, and the sudden waves of pure genius that sometimes hits you when you come up with a lesson on the spot that finally gets your message across. Sure the genius thing doesn't happen as often as I'd like but often enough. I've even been told by previous principals that I'm a natural at it. What I don't like is the politics of it all because tests are an imperfect measuring tool of someone's knowledge and intelligence if you ask me, but I won't go into that - at least not today. I am vowing to think positively today. Tomorrow, who knows? Tomorrow I can be angry, bitter, and pessimistic, but never mind that, because today, I'm optimistic.
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