I guess he was being honest…?

In CategoryNavel Gazing

I saw this guy last night at the entrance to WalMart –

(He saw me take a picture of him. If my lip-reading is even remotely accurate, he was a tad bit miffed.)

Back to School Monday

In CategoryHome Schooling

Today we are back to school after a fleeting summer break.

So far we have spent the last 3 hours on a Giant! Math! Hissy Fit! brought on when I chirped we would be cutting back on our workbook pages and doing a Fun! Math! Activity! instead.

Last year I found a great (FREE) website with math drills – Math is Fun.

See? SEE? It even says FUN in the name! Don’t you wanna have fun, you little turkey butt?


He actually said he’d rather do flash cards than Math is Fun. (Flashcards which he announced I could make myself. Obviously.)

I mean, come ON.

He also suggested maybe I could find a better, FUNNER math website.

Sure, I’ll get right on that.

Which I did, grudgingly.

After sifting through tons of math TWADDLE, which I did not even realize existed, I finally found another terrific math website that he DOES like – even though it’s practically THE EXACT SAME as the first one, EXCEPT this one costs EIGHTY DOLLARS A YEAR.

I swear.

It looks like a great site with a HUGE variety of drills from Pre-K – 8th. I told him we’d sign up for a one-month trial to see how we liked it. Because I am a Super! Sucker! Homeschool Mom!

I even braved my husband’s basement lair and emerged victorious with a teeny-tiny mouse that fits his hand perfectly.

It’s now 2:00 in the afternoon.

I have not checked anything off my shiny new schedule.  It’s the first day, and I’m already behind.

And I’m wondering if taking my kids through the liquor store drive-thru would be wrong.

What’s that? Oh, sorry.

I mean HOMESCHOOLING IS AWESOME! We sang hymns for one hour this morning, then we baked cakes for the elderly, and this afternoon we will be making dioramas depicting the entire works of Homer! Which we read in the original Greek!



Random Monday

In CategoryRandom Monday

• I got up this morning, excited and ready to make some Red Cabbage Indicator.


Here’s the thing. I love science, but I suck at the experiments. The materials lists are nine miles long and I can never get motivated to get the stuff together. Last year, we got completely derailed from Chemistry because I never made the indicator. I even bought 2 cabbages and all they did was rot in the fridge. I’ve heard this cabbage-boiling process is unpleasant. I don’t like things that are unpleasant, yo.

However, I have decided to turn over a new leaf (leaf!), and assemble all the materials for all the experiments before we head back to school next week (Super! Homeschool! Mom!) I even got up early, so I could shred the cabbage and get it soaking while we are at swimming lessons.

But then.

The instructions say I have to use distilled water. Not tap water. Distilled water.

And I am once again derailed.

• The other day, my daughter was racing around nekkid after her bath, and I (naturally) chased her around and threatened to bite her butt. When I scooped her up, she turned serious, wagged her little finger at me and said, “mommy, you can only have the cheeks. You can’t have the butt crack.”

And then I died laughing.

• Also the other day, I finally broke down and decided to buy new bras. I gotta hike these girls back up where they belong, ifyouknowwhatImean.  I shop online if at all possible, and since I knew what I wanted, I went to the Hanes website. While I was there, I saw they had pajama capris! Now, you KNOW my love for capri pants. And jammy capri pants? It’s nirvana. I bought a test pair, and loved them so much I bought….well, I bought eleven more pairs.

Lookit, I’ve never had real pajamas. I usually get through the winter on ratty sweatshirts and longjohns; in the summer, I wear cut-off sweats and a men’s white t-shirt.

It’s Project Runway over here, people.

Or maybe it’s more like What Not To Wear.

Anyway. I love my new, soft, pajama capri pants. That is the point of this story.

It’s not that great of a story, though….. I’ll try harder.

• Have a good week, peeps! Think kind thoughts about Red Cabbage Indicator.



Underpants: A Rant

In CategoryNavel Gazing

After scolding my daughter to quit picking at her butt for the last 3 weeks, I finally realized that she was doing it because her underwear were too small.

Yet another Super Mom Moment. Poor thing. So I went to Kohl’s and bought her the next size up.

The new ones are too big.

She was wearing a 4, which is too small. The 6’s are too big. That is unacceptable because she will still pick at her butt, just for different reasons. And besides, should anyone have to suffer with ill-fitting underwear? That’s not necessary. However, there is a gigantic difference between a 4 and a 6, which the clothing people apparently do not realize.

(note: I took a picture of the aforementioned giant size difference, but then thought perhaps posting my daughter’s underwear was not the Best Idea Ever.)

There is also a big difference between girls sizes and boys sizes, which I know because there were all those times there was that one time when all her underwear were dirty and I had to stick her in a pair of her brother’s (good gravy, did I just admit that? It’s why I buy everyone, like, 25 pairs. Because we are so on top of the laundry around here), and her brother’s undies fit just fine. The difference between boys and girls clothing sizes is something I could rant about for hours. It’s so aggravating. I shall try to restrain myself.

So now I have this dilemma whether to buy a separate batch of boys underwear for her, hoping somehow to be able to keep them separate, because I may not have many lines, but I will draw one at group underpants; or search high and low and spend a bazillion dollars to find little girl’s size 5 underwear.

And while we’re on the subject (apparently interminably, poor readers), why do I have to hunt so hard to find underwear that is not emblazoned with Hannah Montana? Or High School Musical? Or SpongeBob (that cretin)?

I googled Little Girls Underwear, with my hands over my eyes, a little apprehensive about what sort of results that combination of words would yield.

Per the internets suggestion, I took myself off to Old Navy, armed with my wallet, iPhone, and a purse stuffed with representative panties that are too big/too small.

That’s right, gentle readers. I am the lady in Old Navy surreptitiously opening little packets of impossibly tiny underpants and holding them up against other underpants that I fished out of my purse.

I am a class act, people.

In the end, I decided against the girls extra-small bikinis that would probably fit her, because I have an aversion to putting my 4 year old baby into bikinis. She’s four! I might be willing to go with a hipster or slightly low-rise brief, but not a bikini. I swear, the day I see thong underwear in the little girl department, I will have an aneurysm.

I found some non-bikini undies in the toddler department and they fit just fine.

And that concludes this endlessly fascinating foray into underpants shopping.

Or maybe it was just endless.

Ah, well. They can’t all be winners.