The time of year when all of my little kiddos troll the universe and bring bags of chocolate to my mouth. That's the way I see it, anyway. This is not cohesive with my plan to loose a few el bees. I signed up for a Basic Barre class at the Y and I am scared, Blog. Scared.
I would now like to give a shout out to my cousin, Alison Keller, who guessed one thousand two hundred and eight three pieces of candy were in a jar and was correct. This was a contest her office was having sooooooo I wanted to ask her (because I was thinking about this in the car and that is a LOT of pieces of candy - so like how big was this jar and what was the candy?) what is the probability of your guessing this correctly? You have to take in so many factors, so that is when my brain exploded and I decided to nap and let her figure it out. Listen, you won the title and now you have to represent us accordingly. It's serious business.
So now we start the time of year called The Holidays, Bloggy. Holidays are, ha, fill in the blank. Exhausting and totally unhealthy in every which way. Which is super fun, so clearly I am doing a little math and healthy = no fun.Let's see good things about the holidays:
1. You see people you haven't seen in awhile.
2. Food.
3. A certain amount of mystical merriment.
4. Sales.
5. Beautiful songs.
6. Food.
7. Time off of work.
Okay, now bad things about the holidays:
1. Oh my god please stop playing Christmas Carols nonstop starting November 1 it drives me crazy there are six more weeks for real.
2. Commercialism.
3. Kids on crack cocaine sugar highs.
4. TRAFF-ICK!
5. Holes in my pockets where money used to be.
6. Crazy Uncle Larry who always hugs you a little too much.
7. Twenty pounds of flesh that wasn't there before.
So I dunno. Let's put a positive spin on it this year, Blogster. Yay holidays!
Saturday, October 31, 2015
Friday, October 30, 2015
T's Behavior Chart
I am typing this from my phone, Bloggy. That's how bad its gotten. And how much I need you. One day I will blog about how every time I touched the comp yesterday, sparks flew everywhere, but right now, it's too painful.
Anyhoozle, I didn't just throw little Tedlet under the bus for giggles. I wanted you to see how many CATEGORIES his sheet is divided into. Fifty. It's kind of insane. Anyway, that was the second unfortunate sheet in a row, and his teacher called me that afternoon. So of course I am awesome and friendly and made many understanding uh-huh noises as she politely explained that my son was flying head first down Derelict Drive. Actually, I believe the term she favors is "not making good choices." Ha, well darling, if he could choose, he would probably at least choose not to get written up. Give the boy some cred.
So whatevs, I make some suggestions about this crazy sheet, and immediately the teacher is like (probably thinking, Change! Ack! Sputter) well I think the one we have is good blasi blasi yadda. So then I am like, well, harumpf, okay thanks for the phone call to alert me to Ted's Renegade status.
So the next day I email the teach and the special ed teach. Now, Mama is no dummy, and Mama majored in the old Elementary Education. So I had a few ideas. It took me about 45 minutes to write this email. Because I want to help, Bloggy.
So, I'll just cut and paste the email I got back from the special ed gal.
And I am finishing this blog from the public library. Don't ever tell me I don't love you, Bloggy.
Anyhoozle, I didn't just throw little Tedlet under the bus for giggles. I wanted you to see how many CATEGORIES his sheet is divided into. Fifty. It's kind of insane. Anyway, that was the second unfortunate sheet in a row, and his teacher called me that afternoon. So of course I am awesome and friendly and made many understanding uh-huh noises as she politely explained that my son was flying head first down Derelict Drive. Actually, I believe the term she favors is "not making good choices." Ha, well darling, if he could choose, he would probably at least choose not to get written up. Give the boy some cred.
So whatevs, I make some suggestions about this crazy sheet, and immediately the teacher is like (probably thinking, Change! Ack! Sputter) well I think the one we have is good blasi blasi yadda. So then I am like, well, harumpf, okay thanks for the phone call to alert me to Ted's Renegade status.
So the next day I email the teach and the special ed teach. Now, Mama is no dummy, and Mama majored in the old Elementary Education. So I had a few ideas. It took me about 45 minutes to write this email. Because I want to help, Bloggy.
So, I'll just cut and paste the email I got back from the special ed gal.
|
Oct 28 (2 days ago)
 | | ||
| ||||
I will give you a call either this afternoon or sometime before Friday (tomorrow is Pumpkin Fest and Friday is the parade and our parties). Overall, Teddy is doing quite well at school and with minor adjustments, he will continue to be successful.
Thanks,
Sarah Totans
Mrs. Sarah Totans
Special Education Teacher, K-2
Willow Dale Elementary School
720 Norristown Road
Warminster, PA 18974
And I am finishing this blog from the public library. Don't ever tell me I don't love you, Bloggy.
Thursday, October 29, 2015
tech issues
BLOG!!! Where have you been??? Grandma Patsy has been asking for you! The world is against us, Bloggy, and by the world, I mean technology. Let's just say that I spent the last half an hour going up and down stairs with chargers and cell phones and wires and buttons and anytime i walk into a room the toast pops up. Yay!
I have been toilet training, Blog. Holy, Shhh...well you know. This is not an easy task because as soon as I step out of the room, E does everything she is not supposed to. So that, coupled with some computer issues left me Blogless for a few days. Sadness. Of course, now that you know how important I am to you, you will hit the donate button. Tada!
I have so much to tell you, Bloggy. I don't know where to start. I guess (since I have been living in a potty for the last four days) I will put the focus elsewherez.
Oh my goodness I just had to take a picture of Teddy"s behavi
or sheet because i can"t share it as a pdf file I am not gonna tell you what my caps lock situation is
I have been toilet training, Blog. Holy, Shhh...well you know. This is not an easy task because as soon as I step out of the room, E does everything she is not supposed to. So that, coupled with some computer issues left me Blogless for a few days. Sadness. Of course, now that you know how important I am to you, you will hit the donate button. Tada!
I have so much to tell you, Bloggy. I don't know where to start. I guess (since I have been living in a potty for the last four days) I will put the focus elsewherez.
Oh my goodness I just had to take a picture of Teddy"s behavi
or sheet because i can"t share it as a pdf file I am not gonna tell you what my caps lock situation is
Sunday, October 25, 2015
The Love Boat
Um, Blog? I was folding laundry and I accidentally stumbled upon an episode of The Love Boat. I don't think I will ever really be the same.
I know I watched this show when I was about three, but things were different then,
Alrighty then, The Boat was never meant to be seen in high definition on a huge screen. Dear god. You can actually see the orange make up and ... oils...on all the people. So obvs after like three minutes of watching I started googling and it was on for TEN years. That is a lot of years, Blog.
Let's put this in perspective. My oldest child has been alive for nine years. The Love Boat's run is older than Helen, I just don't know what to say about this. I guess everyone just kept watching? Was nothing else going on?
Every episode is an hour of course and for pretty much the whole hour they have this crazy 70s/80s bangchickabang music blasting and its hard to hear the completely ridiculous dialogue. Of course the episode I watched had to be continued so now its been two hours of my life I will never get back but I cannot turn it off. And of course one of the running themes is a diamond heist being chased throughout the ship. So for instance the diamonds are in a special lamp that the sinister "passengers" know about (oh yeah when I tuned in I thought we were continuing from a to be continued episode so go figure cause I was like there seems to be many moving parts that everyone takes for granted that I am not aware of like The Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders are on board and Gopher wants to bed them all) and the lamp of course gets passed from Isaac to Gopher to Doc to Vicki because everyone is always passing around a lamp.
And as we discover more plausible story lines, Mrs. Howell from Gilligan's Island was on this episode, so apparently she got on the right ship this time. Good for her.
I know I watched this show when I was about three, but things were different then,
Alrighty then, The Boat was never meant to be seen in high definition on a huge screen. Dear god. You can actually see the orange make up and ... oils...on all the people. So obvs after like three minutes of watching I started googling and it was on for TEN years. That is a lot of years, Blog.
Let's put this in perspective. My oldest child has been alive for nine years. The Love Boat's run is older than Helen, I just don't know what to say about this. I guess everyone just kept watching? Was nothing else going on?
Every episode is an hour of course and for pretty much the whole hour they have this crazy 70s/80s bangchickabang music blasting and its hard to hear the completely ridiculous dialogue. Of course the episode I watched had to be continued so now its been two hours of my life I will never get back but I cannot turn it off. And of course one of the running themes is a diamond heist being chased throughout the ship. So for instance the diamonds are in a special lamp that the sinister "passengers" know about (oh yeah when I tuned in I thought we were continuing from a to be continued episode so go figure cause I was like there seems to be many moving parts that everyone takes for granted that I am not aware of like The Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders are on board and Gopher wants to bed them all) and the lamp of course gets passed from Isaac to Gopher to Doc to Vicki because everyone is always passing around a lamp.
And as we discover more plausible story lines, Mrs. Howell from Gilligan's Island was on this episode, so apparently she got on the right ship this time. Good for her.
Procrastiblog
I do not want to clean. Ugh the house is a MESS. And the house is big. It is at times like these, Blog, that I come to you to entertain me.
I'm pretty sure when we all go to sleep at night, the socks start to procreate. And they make more socks that are slightly different. And then their offspring can be found under various pieces of furniture. Now, I have no scientific evidence to prove this. But YOU have no scientific evidence to prove it false. So really, we don't know. But, if you look around, evidence is pretty much in favor of my theory.
Remember how I said stairs were a death trap? Ted took a fall yesterday and I cannot believe he did not break his neck. It was so scary, but he actually hit the mid staircase with the top of his head and flipped around again landing on his feet at the bottom of the staircase. Helen and I could have held up scorecards. 9.5
So Grandma Patsy and The Den were here to celebrate twinkletoes droopypants. (E) Now, Grandma Patsy has a tendency to....eyeball me.... up and down when she sees me. She doesn't carry a clipboard...yet. I think that is coming, though. But she did want to know who DONATED A DOLLAR so if your little eyeballs are reading this and you haven't donated a dollar, I think we all know it's because your fingers are too lazy to punch all the digits. I get it. Well, the good news is, you only have to do it once and you can just make it recurring!
Ha member when I read that if you are going to ask people to donate to your blog not to be shy about it? and I was like, well I have GOT THAT COVERED (as I am taking off my top).
I'm pretty sure when we all go to sleep at night, the socks start to procreate. And they make more socks that are slightly different. And then their offspring can be found under various pieces of furniture. Now, I have no scientific evidence to prove this. But YOU have no scientific evidence to prove it false. So really, we don't know. But, if you look around, evidence is pretty much in favor of my theory.
Remember how I said stairs were a death trap? Ted took a fall yesterday and I cannot believe he did not break his neck. It was so scary, but he actually hit the mid staircase with the top of his head and flipped around again landing on his feet at the bottom of the staircase. Helen and I could have held up scorecards. 9.5
So Grandma Patsy and The Den were here to celebrate twinkletoes droopypants. (E) Now, Grandma Patsy has a tendency to....eyeball me.... up and down when she sees me. She doesn't carry a clipboard...yet. I think that is coming, though. But she did want to know who DONATED A DOLLAR so if your little eyeballs are reading this and you haven't donated a dollar, I think we all know it's because your fingers are too lazy to punch all the digits. I get it. Well, the good news is, you only have to do it once and you can just make it recurring!
Ha member when I read that if you are going to ask people to donate to your blog not to be shy about it? and I was like, well I have GOT THAT COVERED (as I am taking off my top).
Saturday, October 24, 2015
Time Out
Yeah, Mama took a little time out. Me and the T were not feeling great yesterday. T stayed home from school which never happens. And I have to admit. I did picture his teacher doing some kind of Pemchenko Roundoff Flipstick*** when she realized T didn't get off the bus.
But then I also pictured her, like, looking at the door every five minutes thinking Man I can't possibly be this lucky so when is this kid gonna show?and then I fell asleep because I don't really think about things like this for too long, Bloggy. And as I said, I was a bit under the weather.
Okay so today was the first day in a two day celebration of E turning 3. Her birthday is tomorrow, and I needed two days basically to explain the whole birthday thing to her so she can understand it enough to really cash in. Gma Pats, The Den, lotsa playas turning out for our little Meowington. So I think this is about the time when E's first memories start. I pretty much spent the day crooning mommy is awesome into her little ears.
Now, I have already told you much about the illustrious Grandma Patsy. So, as we were driving to the Please Touch Museum, Grandma Patsy commented, "I don't like conflict."
And H says, "Well, it's good that you and Pop pop Den don't have conflict. Cause like, aren't you guys in your seventies already?"
***this is a made up term by me. It rocks.
But then I also pictured her, like, looking at the door every five minutes thinking Man I can't possibly be this lucky so when is this kid gonna show?and then I fell asleep because I don't really think about things like this for too long, Bloggy. And as I said, I was a bit under the weather.
Okay so today was the first day in a two day celebration of E turning 3. Her birthday is tomorrow, and I needed two days basically to explain the whole birthday thing to her so she can understand it enough to really cash in. Gma Pats, The Den, lotsa playas turning out for our little Meowington. So I think this is about the time when E's first memories start. I pretty much spent the day crooning mommy is awesome into her little ears.
Now, I have already told you much about the illustrious Grandma Patsy. So, as we were driving to the Please Touch Museum, Grandma Patsy commented, "I don't like conflict."
And H says, "Well, it's good that you and Pop pop Den don't have conflict. Cause like, aren't you guys in your seventies already?"
***this is a made up term by me. It rocks.
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
Frustration
Okay so I took E to story time at the Warminster Library, and afterwards there was a girl E started playing with who happened to be accompanied by a dad. Dad was younger than me but not by a lot, and I think Dad thought he was going to walk out of the library and onto the set of The Real World.
His little girl was very active so I was thinking she would have liked story time a lot. I tried a couple of times, Blog To be friendly. What's her name? I asked. No NOT WHAT'S YOUR NAME you pompous tool. Your name I care not one little fig about. But Evleyn seems cool.
Anyway, I was trying to make conversation with this guy because we are standing in a two by two square foot space with toddlers crawling up our legs. and I am like oh you missed story time, that's too bad they have it Tues Wed and Thursday.
So this guy scoffs and says,
"Oh.
(pause)
Your're telling me.
I missed story time."
And I am like, uh yeah, asswipe.
You missed story time. Jesus.
(Sorry Bloggy, I don't like to curse)
His little girl was very active so I was thinking she would have liked story time a lot. I tried a couple of times, Blog To be friendly. What's her name? I asked. No NOT WHAT'S YOUR NAME you pompous tool. Your name I care not one little fig about. But Evleyn seems cool.
Anyway, I was trying to make conversation with this guy because we are standing in a two by two square foot space with toddlers crawling up our legs. and I am like oh you missed story time, that's too bad they have it Tues Wed and Thursday.
So this guy scoffs and says,
"Oh.
(pause)
Your're telling me.
I missed story time."
And I am like, uh yeah, asswipe.
You missed story time. Jesus.
(Sorry Bloggy, I don't like to curse)
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Control list
Things I can control:
my hair color
how much chocolate and peanut butter I shove into my pie hole at one time
whether or not I yell at H and T and E
what time I go to sleep at night or wake up in the morning
my Internet provider
how I use my time
how I use my time
Things I cannot control:
my skin color
how much chocolate and peanut butter I shove into my pie hole at one time
whether H and T and E yell at each other
how loud Baby Lasagna will snore waking me up at night
how long my Internet provider takes to make a connection
time
time
ADD
Donate a dollah, donate a dollah, donate a dollah, today. HEY!
There were quite a few ADD things happening out there today, Bloggy. I took a different yoga class because Commandant E has me on a different schedule. I am not sure if the people that were there were regulars or somehow they could pay better attention to directions or what.
I consider myself a pretty advanced yogi in terms of how bendable all my parts are, And I have the balance. I don't ohm it up all that often because I dunno. Sometimes I do and sometimes I am not in the mood. I never did ask you what religion you were, Bloggy, but I am assuming agnostic. We can work on that.
Anyway this was a different class and I felt like yes of course there is ADD everywhere in this day and age and that is why you can find commercials becoming creepier and creepier. Advertisers know we have the attention span of a gnat on 'rhoids so they try to come up with all sorts of interesting ways to get us to purchase their schmickles. Like I am helping Helen with her homework on the comp and some box pops up that is like HEY THERE WANNA PURCHASE MY SCHMICKLES? and I am like huh? x out.
Wait anyway, so the class started at one and someone came barreling through the doors at one-twenty. Whatever, I mean its no big deal to be late but when I say barreling, she made an awful lot of noise. So then she takes off her sneakers and I don't know because my ADD had me staring at my roots in the mirror thinking about what shade to try next. Ten minutes later she is lacing her sneakers back up and quietly putting her iphone BACK in her purse and I am like....huh? Okay that's weird. Then when she left, oh my goodness again the RUCKUS she made. So then I started sort of snorting-laughing and played it off as my yogi breath because it really was odd, but I didn't want my giggles to start ruining the class.
There were only about five people there and I think they were used to the instructor because she kept saying right when she meant left and they were all on it and I was basically a confused ADD backwards pretzel. Sad.
There were quite a few ADD things happening out there today, Bloggy. I took a different yoga class because Commandant E has me on a different schedule. I am not sure if the people that were there were regulars or somehow they could pay better attention to directions or what.
I consider myself a pretty advanced yogi in terms of how bendable all my parts are, And I have the balance. I don't ohm it up all that often because I dunno. Sometimes I do and sometimes I am not in the mood. I never did ask you what religion you were, Bloggy, but I am assuming agnostic. We can work on that.
Anyway this was a different class and I felt like yes of course there is ADD everywhere in this day and age and that is why you can find commercials becoming creepier and creepier. Advertisers know we have the attention span of a gnat on 'rhoids so they try to come up with all sorts of interesting ways to get us to purchase their schmickles. Like I am helping Helen with her homework on the comp and some box pops up that is like HEY THERE WANNA PURCHASE MY SCHMICKLES? and I am like huh? x out.
Wait anyway, so the class started at one and someone came barreling through the doors at one-twenty. Whatever, I mean its no big deal to be late but when I say barreling, she made an awful lot of noise. So then she takes off her sneakers and I don't know because my ADD had me staring at my roots in the mirror thinking about what shade to try next. Ten minutes later she is lacing her sneakers back up and quietly putting her iphone BACK in her purse and I am like....huh? Okay that's weird. Then when she left, oh my goodness again the RUCKUS she made. So then I started sort of snorting-laughing and played it off as my yogi breath because it really was odd, but I didn't want my giggles to start ruining the class.
There were only about five people there and I think they were used to the instructor because she kept saying right when she meant left and they were all on it and I was basically a confused ADD backwards pretzel. Sad.
Monday, October 19, 2015
Facilitator Yolanda
NancyQ:Hi is Britany5 available
NancyQ:my guest would like to know
FacilitatorYolanda:She is not online
NancyQ:okay rhanks
NancyQ:Taylor
FacilitatorYolandaNo
NancyQ:kay
NancyQ:thanks
NancyQ:my guest wants to know when they will be avail
FacilitatorYolanda:We do not provide that information.
NancyQ:okay
NancyQ:the guest is asking for andrea
NancyQ:the guest is gone
FacilitatorYolanda:I transferred
.NancyQ:thank you
NancyQ:my guest would like to know
FacilitatorYolanda:She is not online
NancyQ:okay rhanks
NancyQ:Taylor
FacilitatorYolandaNo
NancyQ:kay
NancyQ:thanks
NancyQ:my guest wants to know when they will be avail
FacilitatorYolanda:We do not provide that information.
NancyQ:okay
NancyQ:the guest is asking for andrea
NancyQ:the guest is gone
FacilitatorYolanda:I transferred
.NancyQ:thank you
Am I Autistic?
So apparently changing your shirt and putting on more deodorant is not the same as taking a shower. Fyi.
My good friend, Bunny Bunnertons (this is a pseudonym), once told me about capris; why would you wear pants that give the illusion that your legs are shorter? I don't get it. Oh Bunny, you are so wise. But also, I love capris. I was looking at all the capri leggings in my Zumba class and this is what reminded me of her comment.
I mean I don't know about autistic but I am definitely like Ted. And I know the dr we went to was like this will never really affect his life because he does so well in school and its not even the type of thing I would have picked out in a grocery store or something. But the dr can give me meds for his rages which is good. A "mood stabilizer.". Why not? I'll take two, thanks.
So not sure about autistic. It's supposed to be genetic. somewhat, if you do your research. It's supposed to be somewhat socially or emotionally symptomatic. And fodder for the Haters Team: some may say I am socially a ...handful. Oh you haters. ( I think we all know where Facilitator Yolanda is going to go).
I am an eccentric parent. Eccentric is a synonym for crazy. But it sounds better and this is why it is good to have an expansive vocabulary. I have eccentric children. They do not care if their socks match. I do not care if their socks match, It seems like EVERYONE ELSE CARES if their socks match. This morning the kids were going into the "sock box" where we have all the pairs of socks we found matching and I heard Helen grumble to Teddy. "I dunno cause now all of a sudden she wants our socks to match".
And really I don't give a flying fig if their socks match. But like, teachers do or something? I dunno.
My good friend, Bunny Bunnertons (this is a pseudonym), once told me about capris; why would you wear pants that give the illusion that your legs are shorter? I don't get it. Oh Bunny, you are so wise. But also, I love capris. I was looking at all the capri leggings in my Zumba class and this is what reminded me of her comment.
I mean I don't know about autistic but I am definitely like Ted. And I know the dr we went to was like this will never really affect his life because he does so well in school and its not even the type of thing I would have picked out in a grocery store or something. But the dr can give me meds for his rages which is good. A "mood stabilizer.". Why not? I'll take two, thanks.
So not sure about autistic. It's supposed to be genetic. somewhat, if you do your research. It's supposed to be somewhat socially or emotionally symptomatic. And fodder for the Haters Team: some may say I am socially a ...handful. Oh you haters. ( I think we all know where Facilitator Yolanda is going to go).
I am an eccentric parent. Eccentric is a synonym for crazy. But it sounds better and this is why it is good to have an expansive vocabulary. I have eccentric children. They do not care if their socks match. I do not care if their socks match, It seems like EVERYONE ELSE CARES if their socks match. This morning the kids were going into the "sock box" where we have all the pairs of socks we found matching and I heard Helen grumble to Teddy. "I dunno cause now all of a sudden she wants our socks to match".
And really I don't give a flying fig if their socks match. But like, teachers do or something? I dunno.
Sunday, October 18, 2015
Sunday Funday
Things are HAPPENING, Bloggy. Which is fun and then also makes me want to hide under a fort made of dining chairs and comforters in my living room while I eat cereal and watch the Smurfs. That's where you'd find me on a Saturday morning in the EIGHTIES.
I got off the phone last night with my first real life hater, Uncle Kenny. He's great because not only was he my first Hater, he loves the job. I mean revels in it. See, I am Catholic, which means I am into a certain amount. of self-flagellation, so I asked him last night if maybe he would like to take a look at my BOOK. He was like you have interrupted my football watching with your inane questions and what's it about cause I may not read it if it isn't good enough. So I told him, and he was like WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO WRITE ABOUT THAT. Blech. Love it.
And I have to have a hater to be famous. So he will be captain of my hater team. Now, PROBABLY captain of my lover team will be Grandma Patsy, his TWIN SISTER, which is where it all gets interesting.
Which leads me to my next piece of awesome news. Donations of a dollar. Some people, who (for now) will remain nameless have carved out a space for themselves on the Lovers Team by making a donation of a dollar or sending me various FAN MAIL.
So I guess I will wait some time and put everyone in various CATEGORIES and TEAMS with rankings not unlike the military. So much fun.
Oh also remember when you donate you can make it RECURRING hahahahaha. Like monthly or weekly or minutely, obvs.
I got off the phone last night with my first real life hater, Uncle Kenny. He's great because not only was he my first Hater, he loves the job. I mean revels in it. See, I am Catholic, which means I am into a certain amount. of self-flagellation, so I asked him last night if maybe he would like to take a look at my BOOK. He was like you have interrupted my football watching with your inane questions and what's it about cause I may not read it if it isn't good enough. So I told him, and he was like WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO WRITE ABOUT THAT. Blech. Love it.
And I have to have a hater to be famous. So he will be captain of my hater team. Now, PROBABLY captain of my lover team will be Grandma Patsy, his TWIN SISTER, which is where it all gets interesting.
Which leads me to my next piece of awesome news. Donations of a dollar. Some people, who (for now) will remain nameless have carved out a space for themselves on the Lovers Team by making a donation of a dollar or sending me various FAN MAIL.
So I guess I will wait some time and put everyone in various CATEGORIES and TEAMS with rankings not unlike the military. So much fun.
Oh also remember when you donate you can make it RECURRING hahahahaha. Like monthly or weekly or minutely, obvs.
Saturday, October 17, 2015
Sometimes I need DIRECTION
So Heeeeeey Guys. I forgot to tell you how MUCH to donate. A dollah. A dollah is good cause it's like the South Street Seaport guys with their hats after they stand on top of their head and make a bunny come out of Ann Taylor. Hmmm I miss South Street Seaport. Is the fake Statue of Liberty still there? I have to hit that the next time I am in town.
I just reread that and realized if you are not from New York you probably have no idea what I am talking about. Or maybe you have no idea what I am talking about either way. It's cool. Everybody is actually welcome.
So yesterday I got lambasted by a facilitator from my online tutoring. Facilitator Yolanda. She might be watching us now, Blog. She pops up on my computer in a chat box and it can be creepy. I don't really know how it all works. I sign into tutoring and wait for students to come along. When THEY sign in, a huge and crazy CUCKOO noise comes out of my computer, alerting me that a student has arrived. So what I do is log on and then can usually be found
dying my hair
rocking around the clock
cooking dinner
learning Italian
trying to master the Rubik's cube
Because you have to wait for the kiddos to sign in. A lot of times they sign in (oh by the by, I am signed in right now and one of these examples is happening as my little digits type away). They sign in and sign out or play on the whiteboard and there is a whole rigamarole going on so while I am actually typing the words how can I help you the box disappears from under my fingertips. Whatevs, I have my Rubik's.
So then yesterday Facillitator Yolanda pops up in a chat window and is all hey do you have time for Guest15674327 or whatever? And I am like sure. So I sit down and say how can I help you? And the student never responds so I say okay well the student never responded. And Yolanda says I am really more concerned about YOUR RESPONSE TIME.
And I am like...uh uh. did I get in trubs while I was exfoliating my elbows over the sink and someone was asking me how to diagram sentences?
So I say is there anything else I can do and she says,,,,
not that I am aware of.
And I'm like, well that sounds super positive. I mean I am talking to a chat box. so I dunno how to take this.
So the point is I am sitting on my computer and when it cuckoos I do a backflip cause I have to be RESPONSIVE but also I don't know how to do much more except to constantly break into a tap dance singing "My bologna has a first name..." all around the computer when someone signs in. Jeez.
I just ate a grilled cheese and tomato whilst "editing" someone's paper.
Because I GOT HUNGRY, Blog. Toodles.
I just reread that and realized if you are not from New York you probably have no idea what I am talking about. Or maybe you have no idea what I am talking about either way. It's cool. Everybody is actually welcome.
So yesterday I got lambasted by a facilitator from my online tutoring. Facilitator Yolanda. She might be watching us now, Blog. She pops up on my computer in a chat box and it can be creepy. I don't really know how it all works. I sign into tutoring and wait for students to come along. When THEY sign in, a huge and crazy CUCKOO noise comes out of my computer, alerting me that a student has arrived. So what I do is log on and then can usually be found
dying my hair
rocking around the clock
cooking dinner
learning Italian
trying to master the Rubik's cube
Because you have to wait for the kiddos to sign in. A lot of times they sign in (oh by the by, I am signed in right now and one of these examples is happening as my little digits type away). They sign in and sign out or play on the whiteboard and there is a whole rigamarole going on so while I am actually typing the words how can I help you the box disappears from under my fingertips. Whatevs, I have my Rubik's.
So then yesterday Facillitator Yolanda pops up in a chat window and is all hey do you have time for Guest15674327 or whatever? And I am like sure. So I sit down and say how can I help you? And the student never responds so I say okay well the student never responded. And Yolanda says I am really more concerned about YOUR RESPONSE TIME.
And I am like...uh uh. did I get in trubs while I was exfoliating my elbows over the sink and someone was asking me how to diagram sentences?
So I say is there anything else I can do and she says,,,,
not that I am aware of.
And I'm like, well that sounds super positive. I mean I am talking to a chat box. so I dunno how to take this.
So the point is I am sitting on my computer and when it cuckoos I do a backflip cause I have to be RESPONSIVE but also I don't know how to do much more except to constantly break into a tap dance singing "My bologna has a first name..." all around the computer when someone signs in. Jeez.
I just ate a grilled cheese and tomato whilst "editing" someone's paper.
Because I GOT HUNGRY, Blog. Toodles.
Movie Night
Last night was movie night and the special feature was STAR WARS, Episode 4. Which is episode 1 or the original or whatever, the one that is the first that came out in the olden times. Ted wanted to be Darth Vader for Halloween so I was like well we should def check Star Wars out.
How does he even know who DV is if he has never seen Star Wars? I mean there is no way I could get a straight answer out of that kid for a question like that because I would be SO ANNOYING so basically I just do damage control. He knows what a lightsaber is but not a storm trooper. Etc. I'm like, sorry for wanting you to know what the gd you are talking about. Jeez. Ha, and he is like sorry you are a freaking nerd mom. I just want to cut people's nads off with a a lightsaber.
So then cut to me at Walmart asking the 20 year old clerk for the original Star Wars. That was a fun time. Once we figured out what the word PREquel meant, and that I did not want a blu ray player as well, I left with him holding my pants and me holding fourteen different "episodes" of Star Wars. That's the only way to see the 1st one on dvd. Buy it with a whole bunch of other crapola. Oh, George Lucas. How many mansions do you own, and how many of them are solar-paneled? Just curious.
Anyway, Star Wars might be a little too advanced for E, so at some point she smacked Teddy in the face. Oh and yes they had a bowl of Kit-Kats in front of them, so I basically handed them a bowl full of let's see what mayhem I can create tonight. I know better, but it's MOVIE NIGHT. I mean, I also know better than to eat all the Kit Kats myself but that does not mean I was not in the corner buried underneath a pile of Kit Kat wrappers. Hello.
So Ted smacked her in the leg, hard. And its tough cause I am like TED YOU SHOULD NEVER HIT A GIRL. But then again he got hit in the face and that can't be fun. And he is seven so like what is he supposed to do, you know? But E is 3 so when I am like why did you smack Teddy in the face I heard:
Shgoogley google TEDDY google HIT ME ON THE LEG shgooole wicky shgoogle PURPOSE google shgoogledy doo. Wink.
These are not the droids you are looking for,
How does he even know who DV is if he has never seen Star Wars? I mean there is no way I could get a straight answer out of that kid for a question like that because I would be SO ANNOYING so basically I just do damage control. He knows what a lightsaber is but not a storm trooper. Etc. I'm like, sorry for wanting you to know what the gd you are talking about. Jeez. Ha, and he is like sorry you are a freaking nerd mom. I just want to cut people's nads off with a a lightsaber.
So then cut to me at Walmart asking the 20 year old clerk for the original Star Wars. That was a fun time. Once we figured out what the word PREquel meant, and that I did not want a blu ray player as well, I left with him holding my pants and me holding fourteen different "episodes" of Star Wars. That's the only way to see the 1st one on dvd. Buy it with a whole bunch of other crapola. Oh, George Lucas. How many mansions do you own, and how many of them are solar-paneled? Just curious.
Anyway, Star Wars might be a little too advanced for E, so at some point she smacked Teddy in the face. Oh and yes they had a bowl of Kit-Kats in front of them, so I basically handed them a bowl full of let's see what mayhem I can create tonight. I know better, but it's MOVIE NIGHT. I mean, I also know better than to eat all the Kit Kats myself but that does not mean I was not in the corner buried underneath a pile of Kit Kat wrappers. Hello.
So Ted smacked her in the leg, hard. And its tough cause I am like TED YOU SHOULD NEVER HIT A GIRL. But then again he got hit in the face and that can't be fun. And he is seven so like what is he supposed to do, you know? But E is 3 so when I am like why did you smack Teddy in the face I heard:
Shgoogley google TEDDY google HIT ME ON THE LEG shgooole wicky shgoogle PURPOSE google shgoogledy doo. Wink.
These are not the droids you are looking for,
Friday, October 16, 2015
I Donated Myself
Okay, so I tried this donation thing which is interesting and I donated to myself to test it out. Because it would be terrible if you donated to me and it went to my arch-nemesis, The Dark Lord. So I had to make sure it was working properly, and at first it was like you got zero dollahs. And I was like but wait, what I am my biggest fan and I just donated nine dollars to myself.
SO then I was like maybe it's the "system". And I will just wait until all the money people pull their handle mechanisms and the gears start grinding and it takes the pelican an exrra day to fly from the Cayman Islands with my dollar bill in its mouth or whatevs and the next day Paypal was like Voila! you have commandeered eight dollars and forty four cents.
And I am like okay. I am no mathematician, but....where has my fifty-six cents gone? Is this going to be like one of those things where there is a toll for "added super synchronous fluctuation" which is all just pomp and circumstance for pennies and dimes sprouting legs and running away from me on the highway? And then I try to make the phone calls to get BACK the fifty-six cents, and it is like sigh really? Or is that tax. And by the way, tax sucks.
Hi, IRS, I love you. I am sure you are watching me and Bloggy etc, and I am sure you are all great at your jobs and of course I will pay you but peeps have to donate first.
So donate, beeyotches. And hugs.
We're All Just Animals
When I went to try on wedding dresses (yes, the FIRST TIME), I was pretty lucky and got one almost right away. I was there with my friend, Jennifer Sikes, and the one and only Grandma Patsy who had not matriculated into Grandma status yet due to the lack of activity thus far in my uterus. So I put on one of the first gowns and my friend, Jennifer Sikes, teared up because she was seeing me as a bride for the first time and as she dabbed her little eyeballs with a tissue she turned to my mother to share the moment and GP was...
frolicking with the dressmaker's cat in the corner of the showroom having the time of her life. When Jen was like doesn't Nancy look beautiful, Grandma Patsy was like Nancy who? And let's get this cat a veil!
Oh Grandma Patsy, I love you most of all! I am just TELLING you this Bloggy because E has been meowing like a cat recently whenever anyone asks her a question. What's your name, dear? Meow. How old are you? Meow meow.
Which is totally fine because when I was about seven I went through an entire school year or two pretending to be the family dog after dinner. I would crawl under the table and nip people's ankles and wait to be fed. I really wanted a pet. And I turned out JUST FINE.
My parents would pet me and maybe even throw scraps down at me, who knows. There was no INTERNET so entertainment was rough in those days. I do know that my older cousin, Jon Scott, was in college in NYC (his fam lived in Rochester) and he brought a friend over to Grandma Patsy's for one of her famous roast beef dinners. I was pretending to be a dog and I bit this kid in the ankle. No remorse.
I mean, I don't know if he had a good time at our place or what, but it wasn't your average evening out. And you're welcome.
frolicking with the dressmaker's cat in the corner of the showroom having the time of her life. When Jen was like doesn't Nancy look beautiful, Grandma Patsy was like Nancy who? And let's get this cat a veil!
Oh Grandma Patsy, I love you most of all! I am just TELLING you this Bloggy because E has been meowing like a cat recently whenever anyone asks her a question. What's your name, dear? Meow. How old are you? Meow meow.
Which is totally fine because when I was about seven I went through an entire school year or two pretending to be the family dog after dinner. I would crawl under the table and nip people's ankles and wait to be fed. I really wanted a pet. And I turned out JUST FINE.
My parents would pet me and maybe even throw scraps down at me, who knows. There was no INTERNET so entertainment was rough in those days. I do know that my older cousin, Jon Scott, was in college in NYC (his fam lived in Rochester) and he brought a friend over to Grandma Patsy's for one of her famous roast beef dinners. I was pretending to be a dog and I bit this kid in the ankle. No remorse.
I mean, I don't know if he had a good time at our place or what, but it wasn't your average evening out. And you're welcome.
Thursday, October 15, 2015
Being a Blended Family
This is a tough Blog. Are you. okay Bloggy? Purr for me.
So it's tough to write about but whatevs it's not like people don't KNOW. And the doctor's are always like WHAT? WHO? WHERE because they have to know stuff for blood and everything. Supposedly. I am still looking into this whole blood business.
Oh the last names, okay whatever,the halfsies.eh. I have three children and they are all blonde and beautiful, thanks to the Big Guy upstairs
So imagine there is a divorce and there are the kids. But then you have to get the visuals. So you have kids that look like the guy that was hanging around before but ain't here no mo' That is tough. The visual reminders. I mean can you imagine a child-like version of your ex standing in the living room?
So the children were all in the waiting room at the doctor's office and E is T's half sibling. But T did not understand this. T thinks that E and H are his sisters one hundo percent end of story signed sealed delivered.
Because of course it doesn't matter. Until it does. And then it does matter so hard. And that is sad.
But until then you just hum One of these things is not like the other.,,
So it's tough to write about but whatevs it's not like people don't KNOW. And the doctor's are always like WHAT? WHO? WHERE because they have to know stuff for blood and everything. Supposedly. I am still looking into this whole blood business.
Oh the last names, okay whatever,the halfsies.eh. I have three children and they are all blonde and beautiful, thanks to the Big Guy upstairs
So imagine there is a divorce and there are the kids. But then you have to get the visuals. So you have kids that look like the guy that was hanging around before but ain't here no mo' That is tough. The visual reminders. I mean can you imagine a child-like version of your ex standing in the living room?
So the children were all in the waiting room at the doctor's office and E is T's half sibling. But T did not understand this. T thinks that E and H are his sisters one hundo percent end of story signed sealed delivered.
Because of course it doesn't matter. Until it does. And then it does matter so hard. And that is sad.
Ted Quotes
Mom: Just tell me I am the most awesome mom in the world.
Ted: What if there is a better mom out there than you? Like......MARY?????????
Touche, Ted. Touche. I will never beat Jesus' mom. Now, let's talk about SONS.....
Mom: Tell him you are sorry that his mother died because it's really sad when someone's mom dies.
Ted: Yeah so try to stay alive until you just die. (Ted leaves room)
Mom: Wait, did he just tell me to stay alive until I die?
Helen: Yeah sometimes when people get really old they just like faint and die.
Wednesday, October 14, 2015
Zombified
Okay, I found the bottom half of a mouse in the attic this morning and I almost stroked out. I cannot handle mice. They freak me out. If you have a tail and fur, your tail should have the fur. That is all.
Anyway, the kids have taken me over.
I have the schedule on the board. And they look at it daily. It works. So today they have a half day of school, and Ted walks in while I am writing the schedule
I was writing 1230 homework
100 screen time
130 Family fun time
But somehow, my hand started writing
1230 screen time
100 homework
130 Family Fun time
I am not sure what happened here. But I highly suggest this:
Anyway, the kids have taken me over.
I have the schedule on the board. And they look at it daily. It works. So today they have a half day of school, and Ted walks in while I am writing the schedule
I was writing 1230 homework
100 screen time
130 Family fun time
But somehow, my hand started writing
1230 screen time
100 homework
130 Family Fun time
I am not sure what happened here. But I highly suggest this:
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Little Yogis
I have said before and will say again that yoga rocks balls. And I think it is really good for little kids to get in the habit of. We have a stack of cards called Yoga Pretzels that work really well for me and the kiddos. I didn't do yoga for a week and my entire back was like WHAT THE F ARE YOU TRYING TO PULL HERE YOU MF-ER and I was like okaaayyyy, back. Jeez.
So back in my yoga class I have lots of observations:
1. I was wearing a tank top that said Zumba in yoga class and while you think that would be okay, I don't think it is. Teachers are mad serious about their classes and they are all like oh so how do you LIKE ZUMBA, then? And I am like I guess you don't understand what it's like to have your life run by an almost three year old.
(Cut to Eleanor taking a selfie with Baby Lasagna and then Baby Lasagna covertly goes back to paw printing a sign that reads Kat Fur Saile)
I take whatever class Eleanor lets me, man.
2. When yoga is super crowded, heads and butts are definitely all in places they should not be.
3. The reason I have to take a CLASS to do yoga and I can't just do it at home is that I would never make myself do the plank position. Or side plank. I pretend like they don't exist when I do yoga at home. Actually yoga at home sometime just turns into me taking a nap.
4. I'm surprised it doesn't happen more often, but this time definitely someone behind me farted loud and clear and it's like whaddya gonna do. And also, it's like, you are so glad it's not you. THIS time.
So back in my yoga class I have lots of observations:
1. I was wearing a tank top that said Zumba in yoga class and while you think that would be okay, I don't think it is. Teachers are mad serious about their classes and they are all like oh so how do you LIKE ZUMBA, then? And I am like I guess you don't understand what it's like to have your life run by an almost three year old.
(Cut to Eleanor taking a selfie with Baby Lasagna and then Baby Lasagna covertly goes back to paw printing a sign that reads Kat Fur Saile)
I take whatever class Eleanor lets me, man.
2. When yoga is super crowded, heads and butts are definitely all in places they should not be.
3. The reason I have to take a CLASS to do yoga and I can't just do it at home is that I would never make myself do the plank position. Or side plank. I pretend like they don't exist when I do yoga at home. Actually yoga at home sometime just turns into me taking a nap.
4. I'm surprised it doesn't happen more often, but this time definitely someone behind me farted loud and clear and it's like whaddya gonna do. And also, it's like, you are so glad it's not you. THIS time.
Developmental Delay
Okay so yesterday I added a donate button to my blog, but of course, had no idea what I was doing so now to test it out everyone just donate a hundred bucks and let's see if it works! Ha.
So I spend my mornings with little E as you might have been able to tell from the Baby Lasagna's last posting.
Oh, disclaimer: the one and only GP would like all to know she was FOUR and not TWO when she terrorized said neighborhood cats. I guess it was just one and it scratched her, and she told her mom she was trying to feed a tiger some hamburger meat when she was questioned, but I digress. I tried to TELL Grandma Patsy I was doing her a solid by pretending she was just two. Four year olds should know better, But she likes all her info to be precise.
Also, btw, I could just have recently severed a leg and if there were a cat in the room Grandma Patsy would be like tell me all about THIS CAT, where did it come from and who are its ancestors. But if you ever suggested to the woman perhaps she would like to GET a cat for herself and play with it. Dear god no. They make a mess!
Anyway MY little cat terrorizer is just two. And she is not developmentally delayed by any stretch of the definition. She is hyper advanced super speeded undelayed. (That's good, right?) But since her older sibs had issues with speech, E is speaking now the way H was speaking when she was five. We've got full sentences, prepositions, it's crazy. Yesterday she was able to explain to her dad WHY she was punished by not going to see friends about ten hours after the fact. And of course when you are a mama, you don't really have much to compare it to, so since H was my first I was just like okay cool here we go this is the way kids are (my kid isn't THAT different).
*Another time out. E has just discovered the age old family tradition of taking off all her clothes in another room and surprising the world with her stark raving nakedness before 7am in the morning*
Anyway, now with E, I am like holy moly you are going to be a nuclear physicist who writes Shakespearean sonnets while riding a unicyle on fire. Which is not really fair because H is very very smart. And like I have said before, she needs no services and is a straight A student at nine. Not to mention that E knows EXACTLY what to do with the potty and will have NONE of it while H was like that's cool, I use the potty now.
Also, as long as we are all COMPARING in this blog, H was super laid back Bob Marley dreadlocks and bong hits and E is all hyper nutso Van Halen and coke balls.
SO for anyone out there who has a child with developmental delays at two or three, alls well that ends well, sometimes, I guess. H and E jibber jabber all the way to Grandma Patsy's circus of cats.
So I spend my mornings with little E as you might have been able to tell from the Baby Lasagna's last posting.
Oh, disclaimer: the one and only GP would like all to know she was FOUR and not TWO when she terrorized said neighborhood cats. I guess it was just one and it scratched her, and she told her mom she was trying to feed a tiger some hamburger meat when she was questioned, but I digress. I tried to TELL Grandma Patsy I was doing her a solid by pretending she was just two. Four year olds should know better, But she likes all her info to be precise.
Also, btw, I could just have recently severed a leg and if there were a cat in the room Grandma Patsy would be like tell me all about THIS CAT, where did it come from and who are its ancestors. But if you ever suggested to the woman perhaps she would like to GET a cat for herself and play with it. Dear god no. They make a mess!
Anyway MY little cat terrorizer is just two. And she is not developmentally delayed by any stretch of the definition. She is hyper advanced super speeded undelayed. (That's good, right?) But since her older sibs had issues with speech, E is speaking now the way H was speaking when she was five. We've got full sentences, prepositions, it's crazy. Yesterday she was able to explain to her dad WHY she was punished by not going to see friends about ten hours after the fact. And of course when you are a mama, you don't really have much to compare it to, so since H was my first I was just like okay cool here we go this is the way kids are (my kid isn't THAT different).
*Another time out. E has just discovered the age old family tradition of taking off all her clothes in another room and surprising the world with her stark raving nakedness before 7am in the morning*
Anyway, now with E, I am like holy moly you are going to be a nuclear physicist who writes Shakespearean sonnets while riding a unicyle on fire. Which is not really fair because H is very very smart. And like I have said before, she needs no services and is a straight A student at nine. Not to mention that E knows EXACTLY what to do with the potty and will have NONE of it while H was like that's cool, I use the potty now.
Also, as long as we are all COMPARING in this blog, H was super laid back Bob Marley dreadlocks and bong hits and E is all hyper nutso Van Halen and coke balls.
SO for anyone out there who has a child with developmental delays at two or three, alls well that ends well, sometimes, I guess. H and E jibber jabber all the way to Grandma Patsy's circus of cats.
Monday, October 12, 2015
Baby La Blog
Ha I was reading about how to make MONEY with the blogging and this guy was like once you decide to ask for it just ASK FOR IT all over the place. (Insert chiming money)
Since I added a donate button to you, Bloggerton. Baby La Blog. Hmmm. Anyway, I think this guy has it right.
Since I added a donate button to you, Bloggerton. Baby La Blog. Hmmm. Anyway, I think this guy has it right.
Donate
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BL and E
So I have told you I have a cat. And yes now I am the woman blogging about my cat. But wait, it gets better. I also have a daughter. So now, we have characters. The thing is, my almost three year old has like JUST discovered this cat. Baby Lasagna.
Baby Lasagna is about 14. So every morning E wakes up now and she is like WHERE is Baby Anya? What is Baby Anya DOING I must know. (Right now E is starkers chasing Baby Anya around the house, pounding on a makeshift drum chanting HEY BABY ANYA over and over. You might surmise how interested Baby Lasagna is in such activities).
So several things:
E has inherited this trait from the one and only Grandma Patsy, who maybe best known for her two year old days when she would command all the neighborhood cats to do her bidding, swing them by their tails and tell them they were all having the time of their nine lives.
Hands down if we all were drowning in the ocean and E had her choice of things to save, the cat would come first.
This relationship is not reciprocal.
Baby Lasagna always wants to be around me. I am always around E. There is an associative property of equality here (or distributive?) where BL comes out the loser.
ANYTHING Baby Lasagna does, E says "Oh, that is so cute!" Yes, this goes for licking her own privates.
But the trump is like BL has been here for centuries. She must be like, dude, WHAT do you think you are doing? I used to think Baby Lasagna was clearly waiting for the day she would lose all her fur and stand on two legs because she thinks I am her mom, so that would be the natural order of things. Now, I think she just wants to light up a cig and be left alone for a bit.
Baby Lasagna is about 14. So every morning E wakes up now and she is like WHERE is Baby Anya? What is Baby Anya DOING I must know. (Right now E is starkers chasing Baby Anya around the house, pounding on a makeshift drum chanting HEY BABY ANYA over and over. You might surmise how interested Baby Lasagna is in such activities).
So several things:
E has inherited this trait from the one and only Grandma Patsy, who maybe best known for her two year old days when she would command all the neighborhood cats to do her bidding, swing them by their tails and tell them they were all having the time of their nine lives.
Hands down if we all were drowning in the ocean and E had her choice of things to save, the cat would come first.
This relationship is not reciprocal.
Baby Lasagna always wants to be around me. I am always around E. There is an associative property of equality here (or distributive?) where BL comes out the loser.
ANYTHING Baby Lasagna does, E says "Oh, that is so cute!" Yes, this goes for licking her own privates.
But the trump is like BL has been here for centuries. She must be like, dude, WHAT do you think you are doing? I used to think Baby Lasagna was clearly waiting for the day she would lose all her fur and stand on two legs because she thinks I am her mom, so that would be the natural order of things. Now, I think she just wants to light up a cig and be left alone for a bit.
Boys Will Be Boys
In case anyone needs a quick Monday morning pick me up, I just went in to to wake Ted up to go to school, and he was lying in his bed making armpit farts. Cause he is seven and a boy.
So in his brain (I guess) he is all ho diddle dee dum how do we meet the week yawn zzzz how about with some nice armpit farting? Pfft. Pfft. Pfft. And of course he giggles.
And of course the worst is that I am almost 39 and his mother and I am giggling like a ten year old boy. So it's like who can blame him. I am the worst when it comes to being taken seriously.
I mean, I have some mature genes, through no fault of my own they somehow just ended up growing in me. But mostly my immature genes are sitting right up front in boa feathers just waiting for showtime when they can tap dance across the stage singing, I just gotta be me!
So in his brain (I guess) he is all ho diddle dee dum how do we meet the week yawn zzzz how about with some nice armpit farting? Pfft. Pfft. Pfft. And of course he giggles.
And of course the worst is that I am almost 39 and his mother and I am giggling like a ten year old boy. So it's like who can blame him. I am the worst when it comes to being taken seriously.
I mean, I have some mature genes, through no fault of my own they somehow just ended up growing in me. But mostly my immature genes are sitting right up front in boa feathers just waiting for showtime when they can tap dance across the stage singing, I just gotta be me!
Saturday, October 10, 2015
Chargers
Okay I don't even know if I am going to be able to do this, Bloggy, but I gotta try.
Chargers. Okay so at first I was like, it's just me because I am so disorganized. I can never find the right charger for the right device and god forbid I lose a charger what with the three ankle biters consistently well...biting my ankles. And I guess it goes a little like this. If you are single, you probs have no issues with charging your devices.It's all one gal, one source. But then you start dating, hey there cutie...... and all of a sudden some more devices come on board.
Now please dear god for the love of all that is good and holy do not even try talking to me about having children and THEIR devices. I automatically envision cartoon-like springs popping out from every stick figure representing a person in my family. Congratulations! It's a girl! BOING! BOING! BOING! DEVICES!
The devices and their chargers. This is not the plug that goes into this is not the hole that charges this is not the screen for the where is the plug for the wire in the you get what I mean.
Now, if you are Pat and Den Keane you have perhaps simply a toaster and a VHS player. Kudos to you! You will never feel my pain.
Chargers. Okay so at first I was like, it's just me because I am so disorganized. I can never find the right charger for the right device and god forbid I lose a charger what with the three ankle biters consistently well...biting my ankles. And I guess it goes a little like this. If you are single, you probs have no issues with charging your devices.It's all one gal, one source. But then you start dating, hey there cutie...... and all of a sudden some more devices come on board.
Now please dear god for the love of all that is good and holy do not even try talking to me about having children and THEIR devices. I automatically envision cartoon-like springs popping out from every stick figure representing a person in my family. Congratulations! It's a girl! BOING! BOING! BOING! DEVICES!
The devices and their chargers. This is not the plug that goes into this is not the hole that charges this is not the screen for the where is the plug for the wire in the you get what I mean.
Now, if you are Pat and Den Keane you have perhaps simply a toaster and a VHS player. Kudos to you! You will never feel my pain.
Thursday, October 8, 2015
Poor Ted
So last night, we got home late and were trying to play a new game I got the kids called Wink. And it is true that the directions were ridiculously complicated with like four sets of cards and nine different playing pieces. So H got really frustrated and started having one of her routine I am a nine year old girl meltdowns. She said so many awesome things:
She was really freaking out because people only respect her at school. At home, she has to do chores all the time.
Eleanor is annoying because she is just a female version of Ted.
So when I gently pointed out, that she too, in some ways was just a female version of Ted, she started screaming hysterically and was like
I AM DIFFERENT IN SO MANY WAYS: I AM NOT ANNOYING AND I CAN SING.
She was really freaking out because people only respect her at school. At home, she has to do chores all the time.
Eleanor is annoying because she is just a female version of Ted.
So when I gently pointed out, that she too, in some ways was just a female version of Ted, she started screaming hysterically and was like
I AM DIFFERENT IN SO MANY WAYS: I AM NOT ANNOYING AND I CAN SING.
Wednesday, October 7, 2015
Darth Vader
So obvs kids brains just think differently than ours do. Like believing the radio or tv actually has the little people in them at the time we are hearing them perform.. And it's great and terrifying at the same time. I always try to write down what they say because it is too cute.
Yesterday everyone was playing in the yard and Ted asks if he can put on his costume (Darth Vader). So of course he can and he is flying around the yard dressed as DV but then H hits him or says something to him that he gets mad about and he comes to the kitchen window and is like MOM HELEN IS BEING MEAN TO ME. (Keep the visual in mind, here), and I am like okay stay away from her and immediately he is like okay how many inches or feet?
And I immediately say back ten.
And he says okay ten inches or feet? And I say feet. And I think for a brief second, why would I tell him to stay ten inches away and what would that do? But here we are all deadpan serious.
And I just go back to my dishes and he goes back to being DV ten feet away from H. Problem SOLVED.
Yesterday everyone was playing in the yard and Ted asks if he can put on his costume (Darth Vader). So of course he can and he is flying around the yard dressed as DV but then H hits him or says something to him that he gets mad about and he comes to the kitchen window and is like MOM HELEN IS BEING MEAN TO ME. (Keep the visual in mind, here), and I am like okay stay away from her and immediately he is like okay how many inches or feet?
And I immediately say back ten.
And he says okay ten inches or feet? And I say feet. And I think for a brief second, why would I tell him to stay ten inches away and what would that do? But here we are all deadpan serious.
And I just go back to my dishes and he goes back to being DV ten feet away from H. Problem SOLVED.
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
Experiment:Calvin and Hobbes
Okay I have H and T being observed in their most natural habitat. By me. We are up in the attic.
Live feed: (Guess who's who)
"I am TRYING to problem solve,"
"And that was a disaster in problem solving."
Basically I gave them a flat screen tv and a wireless router antenna something or other that I don't feel like figuring out and decided to see what would happen. It's my own reality tv show.
I mean there is all different types of learning so Hdawgs is now kinesthetically putting together the antenna by touch while Ted is going the old trial and error route, since he doesn't feel like reading. Ha Ted is just randomly inserting various cords and plugs into outlets to see what happens. I love this kid.
Oooo now, he is laid back on the couch flippety flip styles looking at diagrams. He is so Calvin and Hobbes
I just got up to help and Helen read what I wrote on you, Bloggy.
She is seriously the NOSIEST person and she was like WHY DO YOU ALWAYS LOVE TED AND NOT ME? I PUT THE WHOLE ANTENNA TOGETHER!
Live feed: (Guess who's who)
"I am TRYING to problem solve,"
"And that was a disaster in problem solving."
Basically I gave them a flat screen tv and a wireless router antenna something or other that I don't feel like figuring out and decided to see what would happen. It's my own reality tv show.
I mean there is all different types of learning so Hdawgs is now kinesthetically putting together the antenna by touch while Ted is going the old trial and error route, since he doesn't feel like reading. Ha Ted is just randomly inserting various cords and plugs into outlets to see what happens. I love this kid.
Oooo now, he is laid back on the couch flippety flip styles looking at diagrams. He is so Calvin and Hobbes
I just got up to help and Helen read what I wrote on you, Bloggy.
She is seriously the NOSIEST person and she was like WHY DO YOU ALWAYS LOVE TED AND NOT ME? I PUT THE WHOLE ANTENNA TOGETHER!
Bubble Guppies or Minnows
So Ted is a Guppy and Helen is a Minnow. She is soon to be matriculating into Fish status but I came downstairs this morning, and Teddy seemed a bit down so I was like what's up, bud? And he was looking at the trashcan and said, "I just can't believe I am never going to get out of guppies."
I was like, oh mama was a swiiiiiiiimmmmmmeeer so you bet your little guppy a$$ you will be flying out of the minnows into the sharks and all of a sudden becoming a barracuda.
*Time out. E just offered me an empty bag of Pirate's Booty with the heartfelt emotion of a long lost lover. I am like, didn't I just buy this for you?*
So of course I picked him up and sang to him a made up song called You Will Always Be My Guppy (probably Billboard's Greatest Hits right now) while sashaying across the kitchen until he started to giggle but then lo and BEHOLD, I found out he actually got in trubs in Guppy class. Of course.
His swim instructor is an older Asian woman, and I had thought it would be good for him to get a bit of the stricter sense of chicken airplane soldier (that's how they teach the strokes, Bloggy. Cute right?). And apparently she said that if he didn't stop fooling around he could no longer be registered for the chicken airplane soldier business. Ho hum, So I was like what did you do, and of course he was all nothing I just pushed the kickboard off the deep end cause we didn't need it. I smell a rat.
I was like, oh mama was a swiiiiiiiimmmmmmeeer so you bet your little guppy a$$ you will be flying out of the minnows into the sharks and all of a sudden becoming a barracuda.
*Time out. E just offered me an empty bag of Pirate's Booty with the heartfelt emotion of a long lost lover. I am like, didn't I just buy this for you?*
So of course I picked him up and sang to him a made up song called You Will Always Be My Guppy (probably Billboard's Greatest Hits right now) while sashaying across the kitchen until he started to giggle but then lo and BEHOLD, I found out he actually got in trubs in Guppy class. Of course.
His swim instructor is an older Asian woman, and I had thought it would be good for him to get a bit of the stricter sense of chicken airplane soldier (that's how they teach the strokes, Bloggy. Cute right?). And apparently she said that if he didn't stop fooling around he could no longer be registered for the chicken airplane soldier business. Ho hum, So I was like what did you do, and of course he was all nothing I just pushed the kickboard off the deep end cause we didn't need it. I smell a rat.
Time
I mean, time. Will do you in. Every _____. Also, it is on your side.
My brain cannot handle the many facets of time which is why my favorite book is The Time Traveler's Wife. So of course I can only say HOW many attempts have been made to play with this element. Some of my faves include Sliding Doors, Back to the Future and of course....Star Wars but also it is like time heals all wounds. Time can be brutal waiting forever and ever, time can make you FORGET which is cookoodoo and time can do all sorts of things. Holy Time.
I think it is fair to say we never feel we have enough time, and as soon as you have the kiddos, holy smokaroos time goes by so fast. They are born and then they are GRADUATING from some place. But then again there are those...TIMES... when you find yourself on line or waiting and ill prepared and t i m e c o u l d n o t g o a n y s l o w e r.
What they say is true, whoever they are. Your best friend is and will be your worst enemy at some point. And since I like my best friends to be things I create in my head (much safer), let's say today my best friend is time.
I didn't MAKE the rules, Bloggy, I just observe them, Jeez. You and I will always be BFFs, calm DOWN. Jeez. I created you, for goodness sakes. Oh dear. See, also time ain't personal. It's like the swiftest judge out there. Black, white, male, female, you are all subject to time. The wrinkles will come and the hair will fall out but what is the alternative? That's right, the ol' Grim Reaper, so don't get me started,
Hugs.
My brain cannot handle the many facets of time which is why my favorite book is The Time Traveler's Wife. So of course I can only say HOW many attempts have been made to play with this element. Some of my faves include Sliding Doors, Back to the Future and of course....Star Wars but also it is like time heals all wounds. Time can be brutal waiting forever and ever, time can make you FORGET which is cookoodoo and time can do all sorts of things. Holy Time.
I think it is fair to say we never feel we have enough time, and as soon as you have the kiddos, holy smokaroos time goes by so fast. They are born and then they are GRADUATING from some place. But then again there are those...TIMES... when you find yourself on line or waiting and ill prepared and t i m e c o u l d n o t g o a n y s l o w e r.
What they say is true, whoever they are. Your best friend is and will be your worst enemy at some point. And since I like my best friends to be things I create in my head (much safer), let's say today my best friend is time.
I didn't MAKE the rules, Bloggy, I just observe them, Jeez. You and I will always be BFFs, calm DOWN. Jeez. I created you, for goodness sakes. Oh dear. See, also time ain't personal. It's like the swiftest judge out there. Black, white, male, female, you are all subject to time. The wrinkles will come and the hair will fall out but what is the alternative? That's right, the ol' Grim Reaper, so don't get me started,
Hugs.
Monday, October 5, 2015
Don't Hate the Playa, Hate the Game
Ha. So yeah now everyone says literally when they don't mean literally. So now it literally makes no sense.
Another pet peeve while I am at it: garbage cans not placed strategically. For ef's sake. When I want to throw something out, a garbage can should simply appear so I do NOT HAVE TO LITTER. Hello.
Anyway, I was shopping this morning and I came across another hater. Well first of all, let me preface this by saying this hater was NOT my Uncle Kenny (my first hate male [sic], yay!) who by the way told me to get a hobby. I'm confused, I thought you were my hobby, Bloggy?
As yoosh. Most haters can be found as cashiers. We all know this. They are cashiers so they are not, like, living the dream. Well, neither am I.
But whatevs we all have our issues, and I always try to be pleasant as my mama taught me. So when I encounter the UNpleasant, I like to do what I call the "extra second".
(Oh my god E just came into the room and LITERALLY smoked me out. I may not make it.)
The extra second is when I roll up to the cashier and I am like hey how goes it and whaddya know whatddya got how are you love your earrings etc and the cashier snaps my head off in some poorly uncontrolled displacement of emotions like what happened this morning.
So then I stop and wait just an extra pulse or two. While I maintain eye contact. In this extra second, the poor cashier realizes that his or her job was actually to be nice to me and they have royally effed that up, and also they are sizing me up as to whether this happy go lucky mother of 3 may just be psycho enough to pull out a taser and start really going to town.
It is super awkward and wonderful all at the same time. And when the moment passes, I always take a breath and the person on the other side (who now realizes they are lucky their head is still attached to their neck) becomes all smiles and how can I help you. LITERALLY tripping all over themselves because they are just so happy I didn't turn over the candy aisle and pee all over everything.
Oh also I wanted to say that I have lots of haters and this means people I try to friend on fb who REJECT me. It's pretty awesome. It's like I send them a friend request cause I knew them when we were embryos, and I'd like to see pictures of their various offspring but for some reason they cannot be my social media friend. Oh get over yourselves. Of course if you are reading this, double shame on you. Has Jean Valjean taught you nothing? But also I love you and let's be friends.
Another pet peeve while I am at it: garbage cans not placed strategically. For ef's sake. When I want to throw something out, a garbage can should simply appear so I do NOT HAVE TO LITTER. Hello.
Anyway, I was shopping this morning and I came across another hater. Well first of all, let me preface this by saying this hater was NOT my Uncle Kenny (my first hate male [sic], yay!) who by the way told me to get a hobby. I'm confused, I thought you were my hobby, Bloggy?
As yoosh. Most haters can be found as cashiers. We all know this. They are cashiers so they are not, like, living the dream. Well, neither am I.
But whatevs we all have our issues, and I always try to be pleasant as my mama taught me. So when I encounter the UNpleasant, I like to do what I call the "extra second".
(Oh my god E just came into the room and LITERALLY smoked me out. I may not make it.)
The extra second is when I roll up to the cashier and I am like hey how goes it and whaddya know whatddya got how are you love your earrings etc and the cashier snaps my head off in some poorly uncontrolled displacement of emotions like what happened this morning.
So then I stop and wait just an extra pulse or two. While I maintain eye contact. In this extra second, the poor cashier realizes that his or her job was actually to be nice to me and they have royally effed that up, and also they are sizing me up as to whether this happy go lucky mother of 3 may just be psycho enough to pull out a taser and start really going to town.
It is super awkward and wonderful all at the same time. And when the moment passes, I always take a breath and the person on the other side (who now realizes they are lucky their head is still attached to their neck) becomes all smiles and how can I help you. LITERALLY tripping all over themselves because they are just so happy I didn't turn over the candy aisle and pee all over everything.
Oh also I wanted to say that I have lots of haters and this means people I try to friend on fb who REJECT me. It's pretty awesome. It's like I send them a friend request cause I knew them when we were embryos, and I'd like to see pictures of their various offspring but for some reason they cannot be my social media friend. Oh get over yourselves. Of course if you are reading this, double shame on you. Has Jean Valjean taught you nothing? But also I love you and let's be friends.
Sunday, October 4, 2015
Bible Stories: Self care
And on the seventh day, He rested. Which is important Bloggy. You gotta take care of yourself.
And so ta-da! Here I am on Sunday, Family Fun day. Except....no family. Yes sadly, the repercussions of the week have all rolled into one cigar Mama is smoking called, Takin' the Day Off.
See, Mama works hard during the week to do the swimming lessons and the gymnastics and the lovely lovely driving, so if she gets a lot of complainers and haters during the week, she decides maybe instead of using this thirty dollars to feed my family of five a delicious meal of fro-yo, I will get a mani pedi. Go figure.
It's a win win for me. I love my kids. so I love the family bike rides in the afternoons and the apple picking and the baking of pies and all those wonderful things. Sign me up. But I also love.....shopping and playing and eating and winking all by my little tiny self in the middle of this crazy place (there is a birthday party going on around me).
Everyone says it in a bunch of different ways:
Happy wife, happy life
If Mama ain't happy, no one ain't happy.
The mother is the nucleus of the household.
We went to the DOCTOR
I did mention it in one of my earlier posts, Bloggly. But sometimes. I like to entice you. It keeps our relationship SPICY.
I took Ted to his neurology appointment that took me like nine months to get and then I got lost going to the first one had to reschedule and basically the biggest nightmare ever. And I also told all you suckas way back when that I decided not to medicate - for now. Ha well in the middle of last year I quickly decided that if Skeletor himself rolled up selling me bags of crystal meth that promised me my Ted would behave I would undoubtedly give him all three of my children for one of those fake Monopoly Promissory Notes. And walk away thinking I had made the smartest deal ever.
But not really. We just went to "see what was out there" in terms of help and the results were interesting. First, I wanted a second opinion, medically. You know, just in case the 12 year old psych student at Ted's last school got her online degree from Sesame Street. You gottta check these things out. And also, cause I love paper. So I was like, how could I get myself involved in filling out more forms? For no cost to me?
And the guy was v nice, suggested a medicine and a behavioral doc and a one month follow up and recognized that yes I would never be more than a med-dispensing, control-your-breathing-or-you're gonna-stroke-out chauffeur for the next ten years, but whaddya gonna do? My kids will be awesome and in fifteen years, I fully expect at least two out of three of them to purchase me a 24kt gold lily pad from which I will peruse all the reality tv shows I have missed in the last decade. I like my chnaces, and I am not sure what will happen to the one out of three (perhaps subject of said reality tv?)
So we'll see if this "medicine" helps. So far, I ain't seeing no change. And I am inspecting nightly for second heads or third nipples. (I love science so I have to say a little disappointed that nothing is happening yet).
I took Ted to his neurology appointment that took me like nine months to get and then I got lost going to the first one had to reschedule and basically the biggest nightmare ever. And I also told all you suckas way back when that I decided not to medicate - for now. Ha well in the middle of last year I quickly decided that if Skeletor himself rolled up selling me bags of crystal meth that promised me my Ted would behave I would undoubtedly give him all three of my children for one of those fake Monopoly Promissory Notes. And walk away thinking I had made the smartest deal ever.
But not really. We just went to "see what was out there" in terms of help and the results were interesting. First, I wanted a second opinion, medically. You know, just in case the 12 year old psych student at Ted's last school got her online degree from Sesame Street. You gottta check these things out. And also, cause I love paper. So I was like, how could I get myself involved in filling out more forms? For no cost to me?
And the guy was v nice, suggested a medicine and a behavioral doc and a one month follow up and recognized that yes I would never be more than a med-dispensing, control-your-breathing-or-you're gonna-stroke-out chauffeur for the next ten years, but whaddya gonna do? My kids will be awesome and in fifteen years, I fully expect at least two out of three of them to purchase me a 24kt gold lily pad from which I will peruse all the reality tv shows I have missed in the last decade. I like my chnaces, and I am not sure what will happen to the one out of three (perhaps subject of said reality tv?)
So we'll see if this "medicine" helps. So far, I ain't seeing no change. And I am inspecting nightly for second heads or third nipples. (I love science so I have to say a little disappointed that nothing is happening yet).
Friday, October 2, 2015
Oh Little Atoms...
Agriculture is interesting. And therefore I have done my fair share of experiments with the e coli and the petri dish.
A lot of staring. At a lot of nothing. Where you're like, no it's cool you go ahead and do your thing, no offense taken. I just have a science fair going on, but no big deal. If you could just maybe gimme a little bit of something of something. I don't know. Oh wait. are you .... DIVIDING?
That's cool. Maybe I will light up a cig and check this story out. Go ahead. Divide. Again and again. The point being.
There was nothing.
And all of a sudden now there is...something.
A lot of staring. At a lot of nothing. Where you're like, no it's cool you go ahead and do your thing, no offense taken. I just have a science fair going on, but no big deal. If you could just maybe gimme a little bit of something of something. I don't know. Oh wait. are you .... DIVIDING?
That's cool. Maybe I will light up a cig and check this story out. Go ahead. Divide. Again and again. The point being.
There was nothing.
And all of a sudden now there is...something.
Hot vs Cold
Man, I cannot choose a side, I cannot believe you keep ASKING ME TO. Oh wait. Nm.
So like, I totally get it when the heat is on - it's on the streets. Ha. No, when the heat is on you are all nicety nice cozy and snuggly and all sorts of things that end in ys that make you happY. But then there comes a time when the heat is TOO MUCH. And you can no longer shed things. It is not okay. I have been there. There was a loft, and a cabin. And I think Thomas Jefferson. Back in the day.
And then you have to consider all the parts. Dear god, the parts. My feet. My feet may freeze So all I am saying, which really is a whole lot of nothing, is that you need to calm DOWN with all of the fire and ice and maybe just gather yourselves around some toast,
I am so hungry. I think that's what happened here.
**Ha it occurred to me lying in bed last night that nobody but three people have any idea what I mean by a cabin and loft. But since I figure about only three people read this blog, it all even s out in the end, no?
Oh by the by I got my first actual hater yesterday. On the phone he was like, Your blog is terrible and he was dead serious. First of all, it took him twenty minutes to read the excerpt I sent him, and second of all he was not real enthused to learn about my "time of the month" as he put it. SO for one second I was like F U and then I was like YAY! my first real hater. I am Yoko Ono.
You know who you are.
Anyway, back in college I had this loft bed. There was a cabin of girls -seven of us, I believe. In cabin 12. Not 12 of us in Cabin 7? Anyway it was prime housing because it was super cool. We had three rooms. And the thermometer was added after the cabin was made back in the 1500s so it didn't work that well. (I went to William and Mary, thus the TJ reference above. You'll put it all together, eventch).
Anyway, my awesome loft was right under the heating vent and the the two girls in the next room spent their night shivering away, so we would literally wake up in a daze and stumble to the main thermometer in the living room in the middle of the night. I would be wearing a bikini, or nothing, and said roommates would be in ski gear, scarves, mittens and then a dead animal of sorts wrapped around their shoulders. We would growl at each other and awkwardly adjust the thermometer to fit our needs.
My point being I can only shed so many exoskeletons under the heating vent whereas you can certainly put on more North Face jackets.
Let's hear it for Cabin 7. or 12.
So like, I totally get it when the heat is on - it's on the streets. Ha. No, when the heat is on you are all nicety nice cozy and snuggly and all sorts of things that end in ys that make you happY. But then there comes a time when the heat is TOO MUCH. And you can no longer shed things. It is not okay. I have been there. There was a loft, and a cabin. And I think Thomas Jefferson. Back in the day.
And then you have to consider all the parts. Dear god, the parts. My feet. My feet may freeze So all I am saying, which really is a whole lot of nothing, is that you need to calm DOWN with all of the fire and ice and maybe just gather yourselves around some toast,
I am so hungry. I think that's what happened here.
**Ha it occurred to me lying in bed last night that nobody but three people have any idea what I mean by a cabin and loft. But since I figure about only three people read this blog, it all even s out in the end, no?
Oh by the by I got my first actual hater yesterday. On the phone he was like, Your blog is terrible and he was dead serious. First of all, it took him twenty minutes to read the excerpt I sent him, and second of all he was not real enthused to learn about my "time of the month" as he put it. SO for one second I was like F U and then I was like YAY! my first real hater. I am Yoko Ono.
You know who you are.
Anyway, back in college I had this loft bed. There was a cabin of girls -seven of us, I believe. In cabin 12. Not 12 of us in Cabin 7? Anyway it was prime housing because it was super cool. We had three rooms. And the thermometer was added after the cabin was made back in the 1500s so it didn't work that well. (I went to William and Mary, thus the TJ reference above. You'll put it all together, eventch).
Anyway, my awesome loft was right under the heating vent and the the two girls in the next room spent their night shivering away, so we would literally wake up in a daze and stumble to the main thermometer in the living room in the middle of the night. I would be wearing a bikini, or nothing, and said roommates would be in ski gear, scarves, mittens and then a dead animal of sorts wrapped around their shoulders. We would growl at each other and awkwardly adjust the thermometer to fit our needs.
My point being I can only shed so many exoskeletons under the heating vent whereas you can certainly put on more North Face jackets.
Let's hear it for Cabin 7. or 12.
Thursday, October 1, 2015
Parking spaces
At some point, a good man figured out that mommies with small kids inside or outside of their bellies should probably be awarded good parking spaces. I love this guy. I also rue the day when I no longer have car seats to prove I get the good parking. Ha, so the conflict is sometimes. yes I have the small child but she isn't with me right now. Do I still get the good parking space? I dunno.
Here is my car seat. I wouldn't have a car seat strapped into the horse and buggy with ten months' worth of Cheerios underneath it if I didn't have the small child. So clearly, I need the space, correct? Not sure, as I slide by all the suckers who are cursing the vast amount of backseat space they have which is a telltale sign they cannot park in my lovely spaces. Go take a nap in your back seat, losers. I am right up front.
So the thing is, can we please now administer this to waiting on lines? It is for the good of everybody. Yesterday, E actually crawled up me like a tree while I was waiting in line at Wegman's and then she would not settle until I stuck my tongue in her nose. True story. So it's hard to pile the week's worth of groceries on the factory belt as all of this is going on.
I would like my spot right up front please. I mean, if on your agenda is a game of pinochle and a couple of beers, please let me trump you now.
Here is my car seat. I wouldn't have a car seat strapped into the horse and buggy with ten months' worth of Cheerios underneath it if I didn't have the small child. So clearly, I need the space, correct? Not sure, as I slide by all the suckers who are cursing the vast amount of backseat space they have which is a telltale sign they cannot park in my lovely spaces. Go take a nap in your back seat, losers. I am right up front.
So the thing is, can we please now administer this to waiting on lines? It is for the good of everybody. Yesterday, E actually crawled up me like a tree while I was waiting in line at Wegman's and then she would not settle until I stuck my tongue in her nose. True story. So it's hard to pile the week's worth of groceries on the factory belt as all of this is going on.
I would like my spot right up front please. I mean, if on your agenda is a game of pinochle and a couple of beers, please let me trump you now.
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