I tried the "schedule a post" thing - set it for last night at 7:45 - and as of this morning, it's not there. But now I can't get it to just post immediately, either.
Just when I think I'm catching on to this whole technology thing...
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
*Nevermind, it posted, now. I wish I could say I knew how that happened.*
Friday, June 6
Thursday, June 5
Fifteen Minutes a Day
You really can do just about anything in fifteen minutes a day. John learned that this week.
The boys' piano teacher got into the habit of scrunching up her face when she talked about how "average" John is, only to absolutely explode with enthusiasm when she dove into how "exceptional" James is. Kinda-sorta irked me, to be honest. I don't claim to think the boys' gifts lie in the same areas (heaven above knows they usually don't even lie in the same general realm!) However, I do expect a child's instructor to be encouraging, kind in both word and attitude, and at least try not to pigeon-hole the children. So, I talked with her about it, and explained that I do not believe a child must be "gifted" to enjoy music, nor do I believe that a special talent for any particular skill necessitates a love-fest at the drop of a hat. I want both of the children to work hard, do their best, progress as well as they can. I want them to be able to be proud of their hard work and accomplishments, and I was worried that they might fall into the tendency to either think they can't do something, or that they don't need to work hard to do "well" (respectively for each child). She took it well. She quit with the face-scrunching.
Meanwhile, we kept practicing and learning and doing those things we do. Every morning, the boys start their day with piano and typing. Fifteen minutes is all I ask that they do, on each one. I set the timer, they work, timer dings, they switch. Easy as pre-made pie crust, for those of us pastry impaired. The piano is free for anybody to use at any other time during the day, but they're little and I figured the Zen-like "one arrow" approach to practice would best suit their current needs.
That was a month ago.
Today, their teacher just about beat John out of the room, and she was beaming. The first thing she said was, "This was a FANTASTIC lesson! He played so well!" He grinned from ear-to-ear. I think he actually blushed. That was so incredibly cool. He passed all the songs, and she assigned him eight new ones for next week. He's feeling pretty darned competent this evening.
After James' lesson, she was still beaming when they entered the lobby. I asked if he'd done his work (we have had questions about that this week, as everytime he's supposed to be practicing, he's making up songs or playing other things that aren't in his book). She said, "Oh, yeah. He's mastered things I haven't given him yet. This book is just too easy, so he'll get new books next week."
Yay. They're working, she's meeting their needs, and I don't have to deal with bad attitudes all the way around. I love it when it all comes together!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
The boys' piano teacher got into the habit of scrunching up her face when she talked about how "average" John is, only to absolutely explode with enthusiasm when she dove into how "exceptional" James is. Kinda-sorta irked me, to be honest. I don't claim to think the boys' gifts lie in the same areas (heaven above knows they usually don't even lie in the same general realm!) However, I do expect a child's instructor to be encouraging, kind in both word and attitude, and at least try not to pigeon-hole the children. So, I talked with her about it, and explained that I do not believe a child must be "gifted" to enjoy music, nor do I believe that a special talent for any particular skill necessitates a love-fest at the drop of a hat. I want both of the children to work hard, do their best, progress as well as they can. I want them to be able to be proud of their hard work and accomplishments, and I was worried that they might fall into the tendency to either think they can't do something, or that they don't need to work hard to do "well" (respectively for each child). She took it well. She quit with the face-scrunching.
Meanwhile, we kept practicing and learning and doing those things we do. Every morning, the boys start their day with piano and typing. Fifteen minutes is all I ask that they do, on each one. I set the timer, they work, timer dings, they switch. Easy as pre-made pie crust, for those of us pastry impaired. The piano is free for anybody to use at any other time during the day, but they're little and I figured the Zen-like "one arrow" approach to practice would best suit their current needs.
That was a month ago.
Today, their teacher just about beat John out of the room, and she was beaming. The first thing she said was, "This was a FANTASTIC lesson! He played so well!" He grinned from ear-to-ear. I think he actually blushed. That was so incredibly cool. He passed all the songs, and she assigned him eight new ones for next week. He's feeling pretty darned competent this evening.
After James' lesson, she was still beaming when they entered the lobby. I asked if he'd done his work (we have had questions about that this week, as everytime he's supposed to be practicing, he's making up songs or playing other things that aren't in his book). She said, "Oh, yeah. He's mastered things I haven't given him yet. This book is just too easy, so he'll get new books next week."
Yay. They're working, she's meeting their needs, and I don't have to deal with bad attitudes all the way around. I love it when it all comes together!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Dressed.
You. Are. Getting. Dressed.
(child runs back down the hall for the fortieth time in ten minutes)
ACK. I realize I've left off a pertinent piece of direction, so, breaking several of my house rules, I yell (in the house) to someone (who is not in the room with me)...
AND PUT ON CLEAN, FRESH UNDERWEAR!
*sigh*
No wonder they're confused. At least I didn't use a specific name, so there's hope that each one of them thought I was talking to him, specifically, and I won't have to repeat that last part.
Kiss those distracted, smelly babies.
Dy
(child runs back down the hall for the fortieth time in ten minutes)
ACK. I realize I've left off a pertinent piece of direction, so, breaking several of my house rules, I yell (in the house) to someone (who is not in the room with me)...
AND PUT ON CLEAN, FRESH UNDERWEAR!
*sigh*
No wonder they're confused. At least I didn't use a specific name, so there's hope that each one of them thought I was talking to him, specifically, and I won't have to repeat that last part.
Kiss those distracted, smelly babies.
Dy
A Quiet Thursday
I haven't been taking many pictures lately, at all. You're not missing much. We've all been so busy with domestic tasks, and shots of the kids picking up the living room, while perhaps inspiring, aren't that interesting. Or cute. Trust me. I liked this one, from Tuesday's game. Those little eyebrows are so expressive.Today is a Quiet Thursday. The boys have piano, and that's it. That's all. Can you believe it? No games, no Scouts, no nuthin'. Sweet, sweet slow-down!
We have grass! Less than a week after we put the seed and mulch down, we have little plugs of grass sprouting up through the straw. I can't believe it survived the party. Very exciting. We've dubbed it the Chia Lawn.
We re-hung the birdfeeder after the squirrels chewed through the cord that held it up. Zorak and James made a very cool Squirrel Guard and installed that above the feeder to keep the squirrels out of it, but I think it's scaring the birds, too. They haven't come to it since we re-hung it.
Zorak said he thinks he's ready to schedule a lumber delivery for the balcony-that-may-one-day-be. He might. We may work on it this week. I don't know. I don't think I'm going to say anything certain until I see the wood being unloaded in the lower drive. After a while, one starts to doubt one's own sanity when going back and re-reading all the times one wrote, "This week we'll..." or "Today we're going to..." and realizing that one's prediction rate is a whopping 8%. OK, I'm assuming we all already knew I wasn't a prophet, right? So we're good on that one? Very well, then.
And that's about all the news that's fit to print this morning (I hate morning-blogging - my brain isn't up yet).
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Tuesday, June 3
At The End of the Day
The game tonight was a real nail biter. (Finger biter. Whatever works.)
The kids played hard, and they played well. In the end, they took second in the Eastern Division Regional Championship. That's a mouthful, isn't it? Can't complain. Not one bit. This was truly a season well-played, and that little medal was earned with a lot of hard work and team effort.
But this is why he'll be playing again in summer league, and again next year -- there are no sour grapes, no bad attitudes, and no losers on this team...
Well played, boys. Well played!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
The kids played hard, and they played well. In the end, they took second in the Eastern Division Regional Championship. That's a mouthful, isn't it? Can't complain. Not one bit. This was truly a season well-played, and that little medal was earned with a lot of hard work and team effort.
But this is why he'll be playing again in summer league, and again next year -- there are no sour grapes, no bad attitudes, and no losers on this team...
Well played, boys. Well played!Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Two Down...
Smidge's team finished tournament play yesterday. They ended the season undefeated, and then took the tournament in a wobbly, distracted, four-year-old sweep of some sort. I'm not sure how it happened. He is convinced the guy on top of the trophy is him, specifically. And, of course, they got nax, which he shared with his friend, Emma (another sideline sibling, whose brother is on John's team). He's already excited about next year, and machine pitch, and playing with his friends again.
James' team lost last night, which puts them third in the league tournament. That's not a bad showing for such a young team (meaning most of the players are first years in this league). We're mostly just relieved that the season is over. It was a good season and a good experience for him -- he had fantastic coaches, a good team, and wonderful opportunities. But he didn't get out of it all that he could -- namely because he didn't put into it all that he could. Funny how that works, isn't it? One day, that'll "click", and it will make a world of difference for him. And that's okay. We'll keep modeling the philosophy, guiding him along the way, and encouraging him to do his best, no matter what he's involved in. (Well, as long as he's not making meth...)
John's team, however, is still in it. They won their five o'clock game last night, so they played again at seven. They won that one. Zorak stopped on his way back from James' game and picked up pizzas for the kids. He figured if they won, it would be a good way to celebrate. If they lost, it would be a good way to soften the blow. Zorak is so cool like that. He remembers what it's like to be nine, or seven, or four. He's got this Dad thing down pat.
Tonight, John's team plays the Falkville team. These kids are tough, but then, from what we've heard when the coaches open their mouths, they have to be. We may not be undefeated in the regular season, but I wouldn't trade a perfect score for the way the Falkville coaches treat their kids (LB - this is the team we heard getting a "pep talk" while you were here!) If John's team can beat them, twice, they'll be the champions. Truthfully, if we can keep the boys from mentally rolling over the minute they see the other team's jerseys, I think they have an excellent chance. These little guys have a lot of heart. Regardless, it was a great season for John's team. And it was fun for us, too. The bleachers aren't terribly uncomfortable when you're watching a child who wants to be there, and is doing what he loves.
I'd like to say this is it. I'd like to say that now we drink lemonade and do commercial-style summery things. But we don't. John's got his eye on second base for next year, and pitching for the following year. There's a clinic that starts Monday, which he is dying to go to. And then, summer ball. That's okay. I can take my lemonade to the ball park and put my chair under a tree. That's summery, right?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
James' team lost last night, which puts them third in the league tournament. That's not a bad showing for such a young team (meaning most of the players are first years in this league). We're mostly just relieved that the season is over. It was a good season and a good experience for him -- he had fantastic coaches, a good team, and wonderful opportunities. But he didn't get out of it all that he could -- namely because he didn't put into it all that he could. Funny how that works, isn't it? One day, that'll "click", and it will make a world of difference for him. And that's okay. We'll keep modeling the philosophy, guiding him along the way, and encouraging him to do his best, no matter what he's involved in. (Well, as long as he's not making meth...)
John's team, however, is still in it. They won their five o'clock game last night, so they played again at seven. They won that one. Zorak stopped on his way back from James' game and picked up pizzas for the kids. He figured if they won, it would be a good way to celebrate. If they lost, it would be a good way to soften the blow. Zorak is so cool like that. He remembers what it's like to be nine, or seven, or four. He's got this Dad thing down pat.
Tonight, John's team plays the Falkville team. These kids are tough, but then, from what we've heard when the coaches open their mouths, they have to be. We may not be undefeated in the regular season, but I wouldn't trade a perfect score for the way the Falkville coaches treat their kids (LB - this is the team we heard getting a "pep talk" while you were here!) If John's team can beat them, twice, they'll be the champions. Truthfully, if we can keep the boys from mentally rolling over the minute they see the other team's jerseys, I think they have an excellent chance. These little guys have a lot of heart. Regardless, it was a great season for John's team. And it was fun for us, too. The bleachers aren't terribly uncomfortable when you're watching a child who wants to be there, and is doing what he loves.
I'd like to say this is it. I'd like to say that now we drink lemonade and do commercial-style summery things. But we don't. John's got his eye on second base for next year, and pitching for the following year. There's a clinic that starts Monday, which he is dying to go to. And then, summer ball. That's okay. I can take my lemonade to the ball park and put my chair under a tree. That's summery, right?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Sunday, June 1
Weekend Recap
Our borrowed teen turned out to be a delightful help. He tilled the big garden down by the barn, learned how to use a chainsaw to cut up deadfall, how to build a horseshoe pit, and many other things. I'd thought he was 15, but he's only 13 -- wow, a 6'2" thirteen-year-old! But you know, he really hung in there pretty well. He went home and collapsed. The next day, he couldn't wait to come to the party and enjoy the fruits of his labor. His help made the rest of our preparations go more smoothly, too, so that we could look forward to the party and the fruits of our labor, as well.
We got done about 80% of what we'd hoped to get done. It wasn't stellar, but we made the intentional choice not to let it bother us. Cousin T and her husband came from NC - they were fantastic company, and T was such a great help with the food prep! The canopies we rented were perfect, and Zorak is ready to make one so that we'll have it on hand anytime. He loves his new grill (we got this one), and it did a bang-up job on Saturday. The feature we loved the most? There are two warming drawers, and the bottom drawer can hold buns and tortillas without melting the wrappers. (Well, he may have loved other features more, but that's the one he told me about with the most enthusiasm, so, there ya go.)
I took maybe two pictures, and neither one was very good. We all kept pretty busy, and when folks started heading out, I was completely surprised to find it was after eight o'clock! Wow. It was so much fun to get to know some of Zorak's co-workers better, and it's always nice to visit with our homeschooling homies from this side of the river. The two groups were a nice mesh. We lit a bonfire when dark set in, and enjoyed the last few guests - more like family than guests - until way past our bedtime. Everybody who came made it a lovely day, and in the end, Zorak enjoyed it tremendously. There were a few notable missing persons, and we missed them, but sometimes things get in the way, and we get that. No worries. We'll definitely be firing up the grill again.
There were a ton of kids, and they had a BLAST. One little guy told his mom as they left, "You know, I really don't like carrot cake, but the party was so much fun that I didn't even care about the cake." Yay.
We spent today resting. Slept in - even the kids didn't budge until ten o'clock. We got the gear loaded, grilled lunch, picked up the trash, saw P and T off, then crashed on the floor with the kids to watch The Incredibles and nap at random. It was a great day of rest for the family.
And tomorrow, it's back to work!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
We got done about 80% of what we'd hoped to get done. It wasn't stellar, but we made the intentional choice not to let it bother us. Cousin T and her husband came from NC - they were fantastic company, and T was such a great help with the food prep! The canopies we rented were perfect, and Zorak is ready to make one so that we'll have it on hand anytime. He loves his new grill (we got this one), and it did a bang-up job on Saturday. The feature we loved the most? There are two warming drawers, and the bottom drawer can hold buns and tortillas without melting the wrappers. (Well, he may have loved other features more, but that's the one he told me about with the most enthusiasm, so, there ya go.)
I took maybe two pictures, and neither one was very good. We all kept pretty busy, and when folks started heading out, I was completely surprised to find it was after eight o'clock! Wow. It was so much fun to get to know some of Zorak's co-workers better, and it's always nice to visit with our homeschooling homies from this side of the river. The two groups were a nice mesh. We lit a bonfire when dark set in, and enjoyed the last few guests - more like family than guests - until way past our bedtime. Everybody who came made it a lovely day, and in the end, Zorak enjoyed it tremendously. There were a few notable missing persons, and we missed them, but sometimes things get in the way, and we get that. No worries. We'll definitely be firing up the grill again.
There were a ton of kids, and they had a BLAST. One little guy told his mom as they left, "You know, I really don't like carrot cake, but the party was so much fun that I didn't even care about the cake." Yay.
We spent today resting. Slept in - even the kids didn't budge until ten o'clock. We got the gear loaded, grilled lunch, picked up the trash, saw P and T off, then crashed on the floor with the kids to watch The Incredibles and nap at random. It was a great day of rest for the family.
And tomorrow, it's back to work!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Thursday, May 29
So Busy!
I have something Very Exciting to share! But I don't want to blow it just yet by saying anything without posting pictures. This is killing me. (No, we aren't pregnant, and nothing identifiable is actually growing in the garden.) Maybe I can pick up the construction debris enough to post pictures soon? (It's not a finished balcony, either - the rain didn't stop until last night!)
We've worked and worked and worked... and worked. Today we drive and drive and drive. Dentist appointment for me. Piano for the boys. Tournament games for all three kids. Plus, groceries and general planning/cleaning to do.
We get to rent-a-kid on Friday! Well, actually, it's another homeschooling mom who is loaning out her teenager for manual labor over the summer. :-) He's a very sweet boy to agree to come help, and it'll be a serious blessing to have those extra hands. He's a huge help to his mom, but they don't have any manly-man jobs left to do on their house, and she'd like him to have some experience in that realm. Definitely a win-win for everyone: he gets experience, we get help, and she knows he's with people who aren't going to use the Slave Trader method of motivation on her son. I hope we can find people to help work the boys if we're out of things for them to do when they're teenagers.
That said, I've got about half an hour to do some sewing before I need to start making phone calls. Have a great day!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
We've worked and worked and worked... and worked. Today we drive and drive and drive. Dentist appointment for me. Piano for the boys. Tournament games for all three kids. Plus, groceries and general planning/cleaning to do.
We get to rent-a-kid on Friday! Well, actually, it's another homeschooling mom who is loaning out her teenager for manual labor over the summer. :-) He's a very sweet boy to agree to come help, and it'll be a serious blessing to have those extra hands. He's a huge help to his mom, but they don't have any manly-man jobs left to do on their house, and she'd like him to have some experience in that realm. Definitely a win-win for everyone: he gets experience, we get help, and she knows he's with people who aren't going to use the Slave Trader method of motivation on her son. I hope we can find people to help work the boys if we're out of things for them to do when they're teenagers.
That said, I've got about half an hour to do some sewing before I need to start making phone calls. Have a great day!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Tuesday, May 27
Um... no.
We are just slightly to the right of the red stuff north of the I-65 sign in this picture. Yet, the baseball reps are refusing to cancel John's game tonight. (Supposed to start in one hour - do *you* see a clear spot coming in behind that in the next hour?)It's been raining steadily since yesterday afternoon, folks! No other teams in the league are playing tonight, and we cannot figure out why on earth they won't cancel this one. However, we just had thunder that shook the entire house... I haven't seen lightning yet, but that doesn't mean I won't.
No, we're not going. Don't care if it's a tournament. Don't care if it's a "big game". This is a lesson in prioritizing. And, from the looks of it, making sure the flashlights all have good batteries!
***UPDATED***
They cancelled the game at the eleventh hour. If we'd planned to go, we'd have already been on the road to get there. *whew* Good call, refs! Good call! ;-)
G'night! Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Sillcocks
Here's a sillcock. This one has all the goodies in ours: anti-siphon, freeze proof, metal ears. It's one of those things you just don't give much thought to, until it leaks, or breaks, or... you don't have one.
Life. Is. Good.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Life. Is. Good.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Monday, May 26
Mmm-mmm, good.
We accomplished so much today. It was fantastic. But my favorite parts of the weekend had nothing to do with progress, or preparation, or anything on our To-Do List. My favorite parts were, as photographed...
* listening to James play the recorder as he sat cross-legged on the bumper buddy...
* watching John rig a contraption for carrying the bucket as he collected pine cones (Zorak and I agree that while he would do just fine on a deserted island, he's enjoy it way too much and douse the fire anytime he heard a plane -- we'd never hear from him again)...
* gardening with EmBaby, and wondering how it is that toddlers can beat the odds and get those little shoes on the wrong feet, every. single. time. But oh, what precious little backward feet...
* looking at Smidge and realizing he's just not much of a Smidge anymore -- he's growing up fast...
This is why we do it, you know. I need to print this photo collage out and tape a copy up in every room, for those times I can't quite wrap my mind around why we're doing this. I just need to remember that I won't find the answer on any list. I have to look around to really see the A-list priorities.
Of course, that said, we worked 'em like black-market child labor all weekend. :-) The upper meadow is mowed and de-limbed. The entire front yard is seeded and mulched. There are five happy little hostas planted in front of the porch. We dismantled the old stringers, removed another good chunk of the brick steps, gathered the bricks and cement debris from the sidewalk we'd pulled up, and took them down to begin filling the driveway holes and building up where the creek had washed away a good five feet of drive over the culvert. We tidied up the construction zone, gathered wood and kindling for a bonfire, and worked in the garden.
Zorak installed not one, but two, sillcocks at the upper end of the house -- one for the front yard and garden areas, one for the back yard. WOOHOO! (That one is almost as exciting to me as the day we got indoor plumbing!)
I finally made it to the fabric store for muslin, the missing key component in the reupholstery project that is destined to make Brand New Furniture sound like a great idea the next time something goes to pot around here, and velcro.
Then, the kids feasted on Otter Pops and played. Zorak and I are going to collapse.
Five days til the birthday bbq. Still trying to line up a bush hog. Need to firm up rental reservations tomorrow. Need to start the shopping list, and buy a grill. Oh, and finish that couch.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
* listening to James play the recorder as he sat cross-legged on the bumper buddy...
* watching John rig a contraption for carrying the bucket as he collected pine cones (Zorak and I agree that while he would do just fine on a deserted island, he's enjoy it way too much and douse the fire anytime he heard a plane -- we'd never hear from him again)...
* gardening with EmBaby, and wondering how it is that toddlers can beat the odds and get those little shoes on the wrong feet, every. single. time. But oh, what precious little backward feet...
* looking at Smidge and realizing he's just not much of a Smidge anymore -- he's growing up fast...
This is why we do it, you know. I need to print this photo collage out and tape a copy up in every room, for those times I can't quite wrap my mind around why we're doing this. I just need to remember that I won't find the answer on any list. I have to look around to really see the A-list priorities.Of course, that said, we worked 'em like black-market child labor all weekend. :-) The upper meadow is mowed and de-limbed. The entire front yard is seeded and mulched. There are five happy little hostas planted in front of the porch. We dismantled the old stringers, removed another good chunk of the brick steps, gathered the bricks and cement debris from the sidewalk we'd pulled up, and took them down to begin filling the driveway holes and building up where the creek had washed away a good five feet of drive over the culvert. We tidied up the construction zone, gathered wood and kindling for a bonfire, and worked in the garden.
Zorak installed not one, but two, sillcocks at the upper end of the house -- one for the front yard and garden areas, one for the back yard. WOOHOO! (That one is almost as exciting to me as the day we got indoor plumbing!)
I finally made it to the fabric store for muslin, the missing key component in the reupholstery project that is destined to make Brand New Furniture sound like a great idea the next time something goes to pot around here, and velcro.
Then, the kids feasted on Otter Pops and played. Zorak and I are going to collapse.
Five days til the birthday bbq. Still trying to line up a bush hog. Need to firm up rental reservations tomorrow. Need to start the shopping list, and buy a grill. Oh, and finish that couch.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Sunday, May 25
The Awesome Saturday
We got up, fed the kids, spot-cleaned uniforms (the boys wore their jerseys to Smidge's party - it made him feel very proud, and I think the big boys got a kick out of it, too. But, of course, they got mustard, ketchup, and grass stains all over them.) AND out the door for a 9:00 game! WOOHOO!!
WE ROCK!!
The field, glistening in the morning dew (or maybe that was just the glow of being on time?)...
was totally empty...
wha--?
I called the coaches. Turns out, there are no games this weekend. There was enough uproar that they moved all the games. Huh. Well, cool. It's nine o'clock, and we're up, awake, and ready to tackle... um... something else.
Zorak finished the lumber bids. He put up a post or two. He would have accomplished more if the rest of us didn't keep needing his help.
I tilled the front yard. By the time we're done with the tilling, I should have shoulders and forearms that would shame the old East German swim team! Yeah, that's a sexy look for summer. Until then, however, I'm so not there, yet. Zorak had to restart it for me, every time. At one point, I wanted to throw an old-fashioned temper tantrum because I. Cannot. get this thing to start. Makes me feel so helpless, and I hate it. Fortunately, he doesn't complain about having to stop what he's doing to come help me. He always says, "It's tricky" - which is probably a lie - then he smiles and winks at me and sometimes gives me a kiss. That takes some of the sting out of it. 
John helped me plant the hostas. Smidge and Emily drowned them. I think we should have put water lilies there. We found some more hostas in the sloped yard, and since there isn't enough sun, they aren't very big, so I think we're going to move those today up to the foundation area.
John moved all the limbs out of the back yard. He tossed bricks out of the back yard. He dumped cement into the driveway. He helped tidy the house. That child is a Work Horse of the First Order. He's amazing when he puts on his game face.
James took care of JT most of the day - having him around is like having Super Nanny - he's fantastic. He finally got the baby settled on the porch with his bouncy seat, where he happily hung out talking to spider webs and hummingbirds for the rest of the afternoon. When James wasn't busy with the baby, he gathered all the pine cones from the yard for the bonfire next week, and kept busy doing tidy work on the garden bed and the rest of the meadow.
We took on the poison ivy. We won't win, but we can hold it at bay while the company is here.
We put grass seed down on a quarter of the lawn, and mulched it with straw. I've got to get pictures of that process today. Oh, my word, the kids are SO cute spreading the straw! James and John may not be big, but they can manhandle a bale with gusto. One flake is as big as EmBaby, and she feels SO BIG helping to spread it around. If I hadn't been afraid my shoulders would seize up and refuse to move, I'd have stopped working to just watch them do their thing.
We took a break to check our fruits. As we walked past one tree, I told Zorak, "I swear, that tree looks like it should BE something." He stopped, stared, and said, "Um, it is!" Hey, whaddya know! We've got another fruiting tree! It looks like it's a pear, although a different variety than *the* pear tree we've been working on all this time. How. Cool. The count is now up: two apples, two pears, one peach. It's like Christmas in May!
Can't wait to see what we accomplish and find today!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Friday, May 23
Score!
The ultimate cake to take to the end-of-season game? Baseball cupcakes!
1. Make cupcakes.
2. Make white icing (powdered sugar, lard, butter flavoring, and a titch of salt). Make it a little thin, with just a bit of meringue powder. This way, it will go on the cupcakes easily, self-level to a smooth, uniform surface, then harden in place. Voila!
3. Use red icing, and a small, round tip to pipe on the stitching - two half-circle lines opposite one another for the seams, like looking at the top of a baseball. Then pipe a series of short "stitches" going across the red half-circles.
4. For a real thrill -- complete with the kind of leaping up and down and spontaneous leg-hugging you get only from excited four-year-olds -- individualize the cupcakes with the kids' jersey numbers. (But be sure to take extras that look *exactly* the same, sans jersey number, for siblings - no matter how cool your other cupcakes look, they will pale in comparison and go untouched.)
So. Easy. Especially if you have either a) help, or b) a press-style decorator. The bag works beautifully, but unless you have calloused tendons from years of cake decorating already, the cramping starts in around the sixth cupcake.
By the twelfth cupcake, I began to appreciate child slave labor.
By the end of two dozen, my hands were shaking so badly, I was certain I'd developed a sudden-onset form of Parkinson's.
Oh, and #5 - take pictures *before* you leave for the party. The cupcakes won't last long enough to get a single shot once you arrive.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
1. Make cupcakes.
2. Make white icing (powdered sugar, lard, butter flavoring, and a titch of salt). Make it a little thin, with just a bit of meringue powder. This way, it will go on the cupcakes easily, self-level to a smooth, uniform surface, then harden in place. Voila!
3. Use red icing, and a small, round tip to pipe on the stitching - two half-circle lines opposite one another for the seams, like looking at the top of a baseball. Then pipe a series of short "stitches" going across the red half-circles.
4. For a real thrill -- complete with the kind of leaping up and down and spontaneous leg-hugging you get only from excited four-year-olds -- individualize the cupcakes with the kids' jersey numbers. (But be sure to take extras that look *exactly* the same, sans jersey number, for siblings - no matter how cool your other cupcakes look, they will pale in comparison and go untouched.)
So. Easy. Especially if you have either a) help, or b) a press-style decorator. The bag works beautifully, but unless you have calloused tendons from years of cake decorating already, the cramping starts in around the sixth cupcake.
By the twelfth cupcake, I began to appreciate child slave labor.
By the end of two dozen, my hands were shaking so badly, I was certain I'd developed a sudden-onset form of Parkinson's.
Oh, and #5 - take pictures *before* you leave for the party. The cupcakes won't last long enough to get a single shot once you arrive.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
It's FRIDAY
I have no idea why I'm so excited about that! I don't work outside the home. I don't get the weekend off. It must be some residual Pavlovian training.
Smidge has a team party today. He's thrilled. I'm panicky. I'd offered to make the cake, but then never got any further information from the coach's wife. Yeah, I'm good like that. So, as soon as the boys are done getting their room picked up, we're off for more powdered sugar and some beer.
Oh, speaking of alcohol in a dry county in the Bible belt... Y'all remember my last awkward t-shirt moment? Well, folks, I did it again. Smidge had the last game of the regular season. We had a Very Busy day, what with all of whatever we did on Tuesday. (I don't remember, but I do remember being rather harried and working outside.) John had a game at the same time, another field. We did the ol' one-two, slow-down-and-kick-'em-off-at-the-field drop. (I like to pretend they're paratroopers and I'm the cool Army pilot.)
Got to Smidge's field, dropped everything I had in my hands (including the carseat with Jason in it - but he's just a paratrooper-in-training, so he only had to drop three inches - but still, that was probably enough), and plopped down in my seat just as one of the other moms said, "Been one of those days?"
"Yeah," I mumbled, as I looked down, only to realize that the "rodeo" t-shirt I'd put on for yard work was still my main attire. And, if you've ever been to a rodeo in the West, you know they're all sponsored by (say it with me!) COORS! Yeah, that's me - the frantic woman in the alcoholic beverage shirt at the youth activity. If you're ever down this way, I'll be easy to spot, so you can come say hi, or give me a wide berth. I'd understand, either way.
In relating the story to Zorak later that night, he pointed out that you don't usually get COORS this far east. That made me feel better, until I saw that the folks who printed the shirt must have had that in mind, because they made a point of writing, in block letters, "BEER" across the bottom of the picture. Oh, well. Anybody who'll be that offended by something like this would probably be even more offended by getting to know us better, anyway. So it's a good thing. I'll think of it as a friend-filtering device. If you take yourself *that* seriously, you don't want to know us better.
Oh, my. And then, to highlight the point. EmBaby is having animal crackers in milk for breakfast. She wanted them cracked. So while I'm cracking the little animal crackers into her precious little bowl, she's singing me a song, "You're crapping the animal crackers. Crapping the crackers. You're crapping the animal crackers, just for me!" And I'm trying very, very hard not to laugh like a 12 year-old boy. Some of the precious toddler words, I will miss - words like "kingcummer" for cucumber, "weepoh" for Webelos, "cammer" for camera, and "plantit" for planet. Those are so very precious and endearing. But I think it'll be a good thing when she gets a handle on the whole "ck" ending sound. A good thing, indeed.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Smidge has a team party today. He's thrilled. I'm panicky. I'd offered to make the cake, but then never got any further information from the coach's wife. Yeah, I'm good like that. So, as soon as the boys are done getting their room picked up, we're off for more powdered sugar and some beer.
Oh, speaking of alcohol in a dry county in the Bible belt... Y'all remember my last awkward t-shirt moment? Well, folks, I did it again. Smidge had the last game of the regular season. We had a Very Busy day, what with all of whatever we did on Tuesday. (I don't remember, but I do remember being rather harried and working outside.) John had a game at the same time, another field. We did the ol' one-two, slow-down-and-kick-'em-off-at-the-field drop. (I like to pretend they're paratroopers and I'm the cool Army pilot.)
Got to Smidge's field, dropped everything I had in my hands (including the carseat with Jason in it - but he's just a paratrooper-in-training, so he only had to drop three inches - but still, that was probably enough), and plopped down in my seat just as one of the other moms said, "Been one of those days?"
"Yeah," I mumbled, as I looked down, only to realize that the "rodeo" t-shirt I'd put on for yard work was still my main attire. And, if you've ever been to a rodeo in the West, you know they're all sponsored by (say it with me!) COORS! Yeah, that's me - the frantic woman in the alcoholic beverage shirt at the youth activity. If you're ever down this way, I'll be easy to spot, so you can come say hi, or give me a wide berth. I'd understand, either way.
In relating the story to Zorak later that night, he pointed out that you don't usually get COORS this far east. That made me feel better, until I saw that the folks who printed the shirt must have had that in mind, because they made a point of writing, in block letters, "BEER" across the bottom of the picture. Oh, well. Anybody who'll be that offended by something like this would probably be even more offended by getting to know us better, anyway. So it's a good thing. I'll think of it as a friend-filtering device. If you take yourself *that* seriously, you don't want to know us better.
Oh, my. And then, to highlight the point. EmBaby is having animal crackers in milk for breakfast. She wanted them cracked. So while I'm cracking the little animal crackers into her precious little bowl, she's singing me a song, "You're crapping the animal crackers. Crapping the crackers. You're crapping the animal crackers, just for me!" And I'm trying very, very hard not to laugh like a 12 year-old boy. Some of the precious toddler words, I will miss - words like "kingcummer" for cucumber, "weepoh" for Webelos, "cammer" for camera, and "plantit" for planet. Those are so very precious and endearing. But I think it'll be a good thing when she gets a handle on the whole "ck" ending sound. A good thing, indeed.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Thursday, May 22
No Title Today
Can't think of one. However, is there anything more relaxing than a canopy of Dogwood leaves?
Saw the periodontist yesterday. He said the underlying tooth is surprisingly intact, structurally, and thinks a new crown can be reset on it. He referred me to a new dentist when I expressed my concerns with the one who had originally referred me to the perio. (The upside of getting a dental referral from a periodontist is that he sees the work of all the dentists around, and can steer you in a direction that may fit well with your needs! I *really* hope this pans out!) I showed him the concrete-like slab my last dentist put in, and he said this new guy does fantastic restorative work. Say a prayer, please? I go in today at 1:30.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Saw the periodontist yesterday. He said the underlying tooth is surprisingly intact, structurally, and thinks a new crown can be reset on it. He referred me to a new dentist when I expressed my concerns with the one who had originally referred me to the perio. (The upside of getting a dental referral from a periodontist is that he sees the work of all the dentists around, and can steer you in a direction that may fit well with your needs! I *really* hope this pans out!) I showed him the concrete-like slab my last dentist put in, and he said this new guy does fantastic restorative work. Say a prayer, please? I go in today at 1:30.I've accomplished diddly-squat around here, lately, other than treading water and barely keeping up with feeding and cleaning. This weekend, I'm locking the children outside with little satchels of snacks, bottles of water, and a GPS so that I can finish up:
* the couch (the book I mentioned last week did seem to help, at least with pointing out what an idiot I am, and where I've gone wrong thus far - so, that's good),
* the covers for the barstools (my initial plan hasn't worked so well - they're a PITB to get off to wash, and so, they don't get washed -- ew),
* hopefully the new curtains for our room (because the current blankets-on-nails motif is just soooo early "Broke Undergrad"),
* and curtain trim for EmBaby's room (she's had Thomas curtains this whole time -- not imperative to correct, but would be nice, I'm sure).
Hopefully, we can also borrow a tiller and get some seed planted, as well as put the two little hostas in the ground before they go into total shock and die back completely. I still have to go talk to the neighbors about keeping their chickens in check for a couple of weeks, so the seeds (both lawn and garden) can take root instead of becoming chicken feed. Not looking forward to that, but I think I've just made it bigger in my head than it needs to be. I *will* suck it up and take care of that before Saturday. (Hold me accountable!)
And, as you can see, Smidge is still into both baseball, and posing for pictures (he actually scrambled to get his glove when he saw me stalking him with the camera!)...
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Tuesday, May 20
More?
Oh, man. Nobody warned us that Brindlee Mtn. is WAY. THE. HECK. OUT. THERE. Or, that it's atop an actual mountain. (I didn't know we even had mountains around here!) It took longer to get to James' game last night than it takes Zorak to get to work in the mornings! AND, since it was way the heck UP there, as well, although it was 81 at our place, it certainly wasn't 81 up there. We froze. We also didn't get home until ten.
The kids played hard last night. The final score was 23-4. I hate games like that, even when we're the ones with 23 runs (and we aren't always - our kids have had their share of spankings this season, as well). There are 11 other children who played hard, stayed up late, and still felt the disappointment of getting spanked on the field. We much prefer a close, well-matched game, for overall enjoyment factor. The team our guys played, though, had some players with serious heart. One kid got "cleated" - our guy slid into the base just as their guy reached down with the ball and, *ka-pow* cleats to the back of the hand. Yeouch. I can't believe he shook it off and stayed on the field! I'd have spent the rest of the game at the snack shack, trying to get free sno-cones "for my hand".
Gotta call the dentist today. Last night one of my crowns fell prey to a killer grilled cheese sandwich. *sigh* Go figure, it's the one I paid almost $2000 for in Arizona. The one I paid $350 for in Mexico is still standing strong. Gah, I'm so over the dental issues.
Today, also, we've got to straighten the wall in the barn garden, and finish baiting the fire ant mounds. Thrills-a-minute this week, folks! Just wait til Thursday, when we sort underwear drawers! You won't believe what wild and crazy guys we are!
Ok, ok, now I'm just getting silly. I'm going to go. You have a great day. I'll post pictures tonight, or something. To make up for the lousy posting this week. Honest. :-)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
The kids played hard last night. The final score was 23-4. I hate games like that, even when we're the ones with 23 runs (and we aren't always - our kids have had their share of spankings this season, as well). There are 11 other children who played hard, stayed up late, and still felt the disappointment of getting spanked on the field. We much prefer a close, well-matched game, for overall enjoyment factor. The team our guys played, though, had some players with serious heart. One kid got "cleated" - our guy slid into the base just as their guy reached down with the ball and, *ka-pow* cleats to the back of the hand. Yeouch. I can't believe he shook it off and stayed on the field! I'd have spent the rest of the game at the snack shack, trying to get free sno-cones "for my hand".
Gotta call the dentist today. Last night one of my crowns fell prey to a killer grilled cheese sandwich. *sigh* Go figure, it's the one I paid almost $2000 for in Arizona. The one I paid $350 for in Mexico is still standing strong. Gah, I'm so over the dental issues.
Today, also, we've got to straighten the wall in the barn garden, and finish baiting the fire ant mounds. Thrills-a-minute this week, folks! Just wait til Thursday, when we sort underwear drawers! You won't believe what wild and crazy guys we are!
Ok, ok, now I'm just getting silly. I'm going to go. You have a great day. I'll post pictures tonight, or something. To make up for the lousy posting this week. Honest. :-)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Monday, May 19
Conversations and Tidbits
James: Will aphids bite?
Me: No, they're just irritating.
James: Oh. Ok-- uh, irritating, as in annoying? Or irritating as in, they will irritate your skin?
Me: Just annoying.
James: Well, that's good!
****************************************************
We have decorative ivy climbing the new fence! It's pretty cool.
We have poison ivy climbing everything else. Not so cool.
We found earthworms.
We found fire ants.
We found a butterfly.
We found grubby, leggy, swarmy things. (I think it was a disturbed ant bed.)
So, in general, we're not making fantastic headway out there.
But it's not all bad, either.
But I am seriously done with the Mary Poppins attitude to landscaping today.
*****************************************************
James: I found a swarm of something in one of the bricks. They look like maggots, with legs. Like this. (Makes legs with his fingers sticking from his abdomen.) Can I touch it?
Me: (It's only 12:26, and I am SO done doing the yardwork-with-kids thing already.) Honey, if you find a brick swarming with anything, just leave it be.
James: (Not looking at me...) Like that?
Me: What?
James: Like that.
Me: Like... what?
James: Like that bee? (Points at a hovering bee on the porch.)
*sigh*
******************************************************
EmBaby: Em 'a want 'a swing!
Me: (There's an empty swing right in front of her.) Well, ok, go swing.
EmBaby: Em 'a want 'a THAT swing. (The one her brother is in, of course.)
Me: Well, that one's in use, Baby. You can pick one of the other swings...
EmBaby: *bursts into tears*
Me: Well, Love, a fit won't get you what you want. If you need to throw this fit, you can do it in your room. If you want to swing, you need to stop with the fit.
EmBaby: *sniff* *sniff* OK. I all done. *sniff* Em 'a want 'a swing.
(What's the computer code for an endless loop? Yeah, insert that right about... here.)
************************************************
And the general MO of the day: don't think about what you do before you do it.
EmBaby comes to me, crying that John bonked her in the head with a dirt clod.
Gah. We have discussed this, I don't know how many times. We. Do. Not. Throw. Dirt. Period. (But particularly not at people.)
Me: JOHN! Did you throw dirt clods?
John: (in his most humble, I really don't want to be telling the truth right now, voice) Yes.
Me: Don't we have some kind of guideline about that?
John: Don't do it.
James: Um, Mom. I was part of that. You know how when you throw dirt clods and they come apart due to the... something-something... friction and gravity... mumble-something... time-space continuum... average PSI... inhalation... (OK, I wasn't paying attention - his explanations get overly involved and unnecessarily exhausting. I've taken to standing there, looking stern until his lips stop moving and he makes eye contact again. So shoot me. But I did give him immediate credit for 'fessing up to his part in it before I even had to ask.)
Basically, they were playing some kind of game wherein James rides his bike and John tries to hit him with dirt clods as he goes by. Aside from the fact that I think that's a weird thing to play, I have other problems with it. The thing about moving targets, of course, being that they often bring into the line of fire non-moving, non-targets. And when you're seven, it's not like your aim is the greatest.
So, I ran through my mental parenting rubric:
Told the truth the first time, +5 pts.
...without me reminding him of the importance of doing so. +10 pts.
Spotted the error in their thinking process, +3 pts.
...without me having to point it out. +10 pts.
Sibling coughed up a truthful inclusion confession on his own, +20 pts.
Both parties showed concern (ok, some awareness) that their actions, however unintentional, had negatively affected someone else. +50 pts. (been workin' on that one for a while!)
So it's not 100% (that would be reserved for "thought things through before doing them" - it will be a Very Happy Day when that happens!) But it's not bad for a 7yo and a 9yo. I couldn't really justify leaping into Lecture Land. They handled it well. I'm proud of them.
But I'm still done doing the yardwork-with-kids thing. :-P
That's why I'm in here, blogging, under the pretext of figuring out what to fix for lunch.
Me: No, they're just irritating.
James: Oh. Ok-- uh, irritating, as in annoying? Or irritating as in, they will irritate your skin?
Me: Just annoying.
James: Well, that's good!
****************************************************
We have decorative ivy climbing the new fence! It's pretty cool.
We have poison ivy climbing everything else. Not so cool.
We found earthworms.
We found fire ants.
We found a butterfly.
We found grubby, leggy, swarmy things. (I think it was a disturbed ant bed.)
So, in general, we're not making fantastic headway out there.
But it's not all bad, either.
But I am seriously done with the Mary Poppins attitude to landscaping today.
*****************************************************
James: I found a swarm of something in one of the bricks. They look like maggots, with legs. Like this. (Makes legs with his fingers sticking from his abdomen.) Can I touch it?
Me: (It's only 12:26, and I am SO done doing the yardwork-with-kids thing already.) Honey, if you find a brick swarming with anything, just leave it be.
James: (Not looking at me...) Like that?
Me: What?
James: Like that.
Me: Like... what?
James: Like that bee? (Points at a hovering bee on the porch.)
*sigh*
******************************************************
EmBaby: Em 'a want 'a swing!
Me: (There's an empty swing right in front of her.) Well, ok, go swing.
EmBaby: Em 'a want 'a THAT swing. (The one her brother is in, of course.)
Me: Well, that one's in use, Baby. You can pick one of the other swings...
EmBaby: *bursts into tears*
Me: Well, Love, a fit won't get you what you want. If you need to throw this fit, you can do it in your room. If you want to swing, you need to stop with the fit.
EmBaby: *sniff* *sniff* OK. I all done. *sniff* Em 'a want 'a swing.
(What's the computer code for an endless loop? Yeah, insert that right about... here.)
************************************************
And the general MO of the day: don't think about what you do before you do it.
EmBaby comes to me, crying that John bonked her in the head with a dirt clod.
Gah. We have discussed this, I don't know how many times. We. Do. Not. Throw. Dirt. Period. (But particularly not at people.)
Me: JOHN! Did you throw dirt clods?
John: (in his most humble, I really don't want to be telling the truth right now, voice) Yes.
Me: Don't we have some kind of guideline about that?
John: Don't do it.
James: Um, Mom. I was part of that. You know how when you throw dirt clods and they come apart due to the... something-something... friction and gravity... mumble-something... time-space continuum... average PSI... inhalation... (OK, I wasn't paying attention - his explanations get overly involved and unnecessarily exhausting. I've taken to standing there, looking stern until his lips stop moving and he makes eye contact again. So shoot me. But I did give him immediate credit for 'fessing up to his part in it before I even had to ask.)
Basically, they were playing some kind of game wherein James rides his bike and John tries to hit him with dirt clods as he goes by. Aside from the fact that I think that's a weird thing to play, I have other problems with it. The thing about moving targets, of course, being that they often bring into the line of fire non-moving, non-targets. And when you're seven, it's not like your aim is the greatest.
So, I ran through my mental parenting rubric:
Told the truth the first time, +5 pts.
...without me reminding him of the importance of doing so. +10 pts.
Spotted the error in their thinking process, +3 pts.
...without me having to point it out. +10 pts.
Sibling coughed up a truthful inclusion confession on his own, +20 pts.
Both parties showed concern (ok, some awareness) that their actions, however unintentional, had negatively affected someone else. +50 pts. (been workin' on that one for a while!)
So it's not 100% (that would be reserved for "thought things through before doing them" - it will be a Very Happy Day when that happens!) But it's not bad for a 7yo and a 9yo. I couldn't really justify leaping into Lecture Land. They handled it well. I'm proud of them.
But I'm still done doing the yardwork-with-kids thing. :-P
That's why I'm in here, blogging, under the pretext of figuring out what to fix for lunch.
Sunday, May 18
ONE PIER!
That's all that's left to pour! There's one support post up, and Zorak plans to hit Lowe's on the way home tomorrow for ledger board/band board, and columns! WOOT!!
I wish my progress was as exciting. It wasn't. We sifted the closets. Had the boys try on *everything* in there. Took out the winter garb, put it in a pile. Took out things that don't fit, put them in a pile. Set aside the things that are not in good repair any longer, put 'em in a pile. Took out things they just don't wear, put those... in a bag. (The piles were starting to irritate all of us at that point.) The clutter sneaks up on me, season after season. Thank heaven for Spring Cleaning, no?
Smidge, EmBaby and I went to the feed store to see about buying a Croton (thanks, Melora - that's just what it was!!), but they don't have a supplier for them. We'll have to go back to the fruit stand for those. We bought two hostas, instead, and they're sitting out front, waiting for to the muse to move and show Zorak and I where, exactly, to put the holes.
Saturday was a whirlwind of activity and stoopid Home Depot employees. But it was a good day, other than that. So, all-in-all, all is well. I'm just too pooped to write tonight, and have too many thoughts bumping into each other to make any of them make sense individually.
I wish my progress was as exciting. It wasn't. We sifted the closets. Had the boys try on *everything* in there. Took out the winter garb, put it in a pile. Took out things that don't fit, put them in a pile. Set aside the things that are not in good repair any longer, put 'em in a pile. Took out things they just don't wear, put those... in a bag. (The piles were starting to irritate all of us at that point.) The clutter sneaks up on me, season after season. Thank heaven for Spring Cleaning, no?
Smidge, EmBaby and I went to the feed store to see about buying a Croton (thanks, Melora - that's just what it was!!), but they don't have a supplier for them. We'll have to go back to the fruit stand for those. We bought two hostas, instead, and they're sitting out front, waiting for to the muse to move and show Zorak and I where, exactly, to put the holes.
Saturday was a whirlwind of activity and stoopid Home Depot employees. But it was a good day, other than that. So, all-in-all, all is well. I'm just too pooped to write tonight, and have too many thoughts bumping into each other to make any of them make sense individually.
Thursday, May 15
I thought I'd told you about that.
But I've just searched the blog, and it seems I never mentioned it. However, to tell tonight's story, I have to tell the first story, so...
The first Scout meeting we attended, back in December, turned out to be one where a Sheriff's Deputy spoke about arrest warrants, drug use, and other niceties of the trade. He was very good with the boys, and they were all riveted to the spot. One of the kids asked him what the most common warrant is that they issue. The Deputy said there's actually a lot of meth activity in this area...
Cue James, who listens, kind of, and joins in at random times, occasionally with disjointed information that may - or may not - be pertinent to the discussion. Our first contact with a new group of people seems to be a fairly regular, and not-as-random-as-I'd-prefer, occasion for sharing information out of context.
"Oh, yes! My Mom said meth is easy to make in your basement!"
*blink* *blink*
...Are ya gonna follow up on that comment?
Nope.
A few minutes later, as the Nice Officer explained that marijuana is a plant that is grown, and some of the other drugs are made from chemicals, James again decided to move straight to the head of the class (or right into the interrogation lamp, depending on your perspective) by offering:
"Yeah! My Mom said you can make meth with common household materials."
(Gah. Where IS this kid's mother, huh?!?)
Again, no further explanation. I'm out-to-here pregnant, with kids hanging all over, kind of dirty because we'd been working on the storm windows all day... and I'm wanting to DIE.
Now, what I'd said, in context, during one of our many "Drugs Will Destroy Your Soul And Make You Do Weird Things" discussions, was that meth is commonly made in homes in rural neighborhoods, and that the nice pharmacist asked me to sign for sinus medication because many common household materials, including OTC drugs, are used in the production of methamphetamines and the law enforcement agencies are trying to clamp down on that. THAT is what I said. Sounds totally different, doesn't it?
Right. So, here we are, six months later. I'm hoping the folks at Scouts are starting to get a feel for us (you know, like feeling fairly confident that we aren't whipping out crack in our spare time). James' den is talking about community, taxes, and law enforcement. His contribution to the discussion? Well, when the Scoutmaster pointed out that so-and-so's Dad (sitting right there - same guy who gave the talk in December) is a Deputy, James points out...
Well, if everybody followed the law, he'd be out of a job!
Sooo... this is the Economic Security Through Default Crime approach? Ahhh, yes. I'm kind of glad I wasn't there for that one. Thankfully, however, he's getting better. At least he followed this one up with,
They do learn. It's good stuff.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
The first Scout meeting we attended, back in December, turned out to be one where a Sheriff's Deputy spoke about arrest warrants, drug use, and other niceties of the trade. He was very good with the boys, and they were all riveted to the spot. One of the kids asked him what the most common warrant is that they issue. The Deputy said there's actually a lot of meth activity in this area...
Cue James, who listens, kind of, and joins in at random times, occasionally with disjointed information that may - or may not - be pertinent to the discussion. Our first contact with a new group of people seems to be a fairly regular, and not-as-random-as-I'd-prefer, occasion for sharing information out of context.
"Oh, yes! My Mom said meth is easy to make in your basement!"
*blink* *blink*
...Are ya gonna follow up on that comment?
Nope.
A few minutes later, as the Nice Officer explained that marijuana is a plant that is grown, and some of the other drugs are made from chemicals, James again decided to move straight to the head of the class (or right into the interrogation lamp, depending on your perspective) by offering:
"Yeah! My Mom said you can make meth with common household materials."
(Gah. Where IS this kid's mother, huh?!?)
Again, no further explanation. I'm out-to-here pregnant, with kids hanging all over, kind of dirty because we'd been working on the storm windows all day... and I'm wanting to DIE.
Now, what I'd said, in context, during one of our many "Drugs Will Destroy Your Soul And Make You Do Weird Things" discussions, was that meth is commonly made in homes in rural neighborhoods, and that the nice pharmacist asked me to sign for sinus medication because many common household materials, including OTC drugs, are used in the production of methamphetamines and the law enforcement agencies are trying to clamp down on that. THAT is what I said. Sounds totally different, doesn't it?
Right. So, here we are, six months later. I'm hoping the folks at Scouts are starting to get a feel for us (you know, like feeling fairly confident that we aren't whipping out crack in our spare time). James' den is talking about community, taxes, and law enforcement. His contribution to the discussion? Well, when the Scoutmaster pointed out that so-and-so's Dad (sitting right there - same guy who gave the talk in December) is a Deputy, James points out...
Well, if everybody followed the law, he'd be out of a job!
Sooo... this is the Economic Security Through Default Crime approach? Ahhh, yes. I'm kind of glad I wasn't there for that one. Thankfully, however, he's getting better. At least he followed this one up with,
"But, you know, we should all probably still follow the law."Good save, kiddo! Good save.
They do learn. It's good stuff.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Wednesday, May 14
Party Planners and Parenting
Party Planners: I will never mock them again.
On the other topic...
It was a pretty good day, today. Most of the "stuff" was your normal "stuff" - the kind of mental gymnastics that are part and parcel of parenting. Those, I can handle. I generally ignore them when I blog, because they're just so... mundane... but today, they felt somewhat refreshing. Eh, it's the devil you know, right?
The boys had piano today, since their teacher will be out of town tomorrow. James needs to work with a damper pedal, but do you think they left the damper pedal alone when we first got the keyboard? Do you think they put it where I suggested they put it? Do you think they remember any of those discussions? No, no, they don't. And so, he's a bit upset that he can't do his studies because "we" (he's mastered the Royal We already - see, told you he was advanced! ha-ha.) can't find it. Uh-huh. Okay, then.
Smidge stayed with Zorak because I had to ask him three times to put away the train tracks so we could leave. I'm just having to crack down on this whole, "You need to do what I ask you to do when I ask you to do it" thing. If they don't do it right then, they will forget. They're little, they do that.
Seriously, I work hard at not being a dictator, but a few train tracks before we run to piano, a pair of socks before brushing your teeth, cleats left in the doorway, clean clothes that don't make it to their drawers before lights-out... times four... and suddenly, I live in a home that would shame Samson & Son. Argh! Clutter makes me twitchy. Clutter that is not mine, that I do not want, and that is not picked up makes me think fondly of Joan Crawford. I don't want to live like that, and whether the kids know it or not, they don't want to live like that. So, please, let's stick with the one-thing-out, one-thing-back rule and move on, shall we? Yeah, thanks.
He got to help Zorak and felt pretty good about all the work he did. (All part of my genius! Or, at least I'm going to take credit for it tonight.) And when we got back, even though it was raining, he put a coat over his head and ran out to give me a hug and fill me in on all he accomplished. So I'm guessing he wasn't terribly scarred by not going with us.
EmBaby stayed home because it was, blessedly, naptime, and... because I could get away with it. A sippy cup, a Disney flick, and a molasses cookie and I've not only ensured our dentist's future employment prospects, but she's out in five minutes, flat. Don't judge me too harshly, here, folks. I've only got about six more months where that'll work, and I. need. them.
We made it to piano *EARLY* (two days in a row that we haven't been late for things - it is a personal best - the boys and I did a victory dance in the parking lot to mark the occasion), performed a rain dance (aka - hit the car wash, guaranteed to do the trick every time!), picked up more anchor bolts and a couple of good books (hint: when you want to know whether a book is good and should you buy it, be sure to call the one friend you know who can justify a book purchase under almost any condition. She'll come through for you!)
One of the books I bought is called "Slipcovers Made Easy". Of course, everything about our couch is listed under her "Don't Start With THIS COUCH" section. But that's okay. If she can make it even do-able, I'll be happy. We lost sight of "easy" two months ago. We're almost down to shopping, or arson.
OK, I have more stuff to do before bed. I better go be productive.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
On the other topic...
It was a pretty good day, today. Most of the "stuff" was your normal "stuff" - the kind of mental gymnastics that are part and parcel of parenting. Those, I can handle. I generally ignore them when I blog, because they're just so... mundane... but today, they felt somewhat refreshing. Eh, it's the devil you know, right?
The boys had piano today, since their teacher will be out of town tomorrow. James needs to work with a damper pedal, but do you think they left the damper pedal alone when we first got the keyboard? Do you think they put it where I suggested they put it? Do you think they remember any of those discussions? No, no, they don't. And so, he's a bit upset that he can't do his studies because "we" (he's mastered the Royal We already - see, told you he was advanced! ha-ha.) can't find it. Uh-huh. Okay, then.
Smidge stayed with Zorak because I had to ask him three times to put away the train tracks so we could leave. I'm just having to crack down on this whole, "You need to do what I ask you to do when I ask you to do it" thing. If they don't do it right then, they will forget. They're little, they do that.
Seriously, I work hard at not being a dictator, but a few train tracks before we run to piano, a pair of socks before brushing your teeth, cleats left in the doorway, clean clothes that don't make it to their drawers before lights-out... times four... and suddenly, I live in a home that would shame Samson & Son. Argh! Clutter makes me twitchy. Clutter that is not mine, that I do not want, and that is not picked up makes me think fondly of Joan Crawford. I don't want to live like that, and whether the kids know it or not, they don't want to live like that. So, please, let's stick with the one-thing-out, one-thing-back rule and move on, shall we? Yeah, thanks.
He got to help Zorak and felt pretty good about all the work he did. (All part of my genius! Or, at least I'm going to take credit for it tonight.) And when we got back, even though it was raining, he put a coat over his head and ran out to give me a hug and fill me in on all he accomplished. So I'm guessing he wasn't terribly scarred by not going with us.
EmBaby stayed home because it was, blessedly, naptime, and... because I could get away with it. A sippy cup, a Disney flick, and a molasses cookie and I've not only ensured our dentist's future employment prospects, but she's out in five minutes, flat. Don't judge me too harshly, here, folks. I've only got about six more months where that'll work, and I. need. them.
We made it to piano *EARLY* (two days in a row that we haven't been late for things - it is a personal best - the boys and I did a victory dance in the parking lot to mark the occasion), performed a rain dance (aka - hit the car wash, guaranteed to do the trick every time!), picked up more anchor bolts and a couple of good books (hint: when you want to know whether a book is good and should you buy it, be sure to call the one friend you know who can justify a book purchase under almost any condition. She'll come through for you!)
One of the books I bought is called "Slipcovers Made Easy". Of course, everything about our couch is listed under her "Don't Start With THIS COUCH" section. But that's okay. If she can make it even do-able, I'll be happy. We lost sight of "easy" two months ago. We're almost down to shopping, or arson.
OK, I have more stuff to do before bed. I better go be productive.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
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