No, seriously. There are only 7 weeks left until Dramasaur is done with school for the year. I keep wondering what the shrek I'm gonna do with him for those months. I mean, it's not like we don't have options, it's just, which one do we go with?
We could sign up for the school district's summer club, but it's not summer school. Meaning he'd just be screwing around all day and not doing much constructive, well, anything. Which is why he had such a difficult start to this school year - zero retention.
We could do the summer club AND the summer "fun" classes, also via the school district, but then, how in the world am I supposed to get him from point A to B to C and back to A during the day when I am supposed to be at work?
Then there is the Nana-option. She offered to, well I guess tutor, Dramasaur over the summer. We'd be paying her of course, and he's all for this option. I'm just not sure how long the actual learning would last, KWIM? Maybe though, we could sit down and hammer out a sort of curriculum for the summer. Just a couple of hours a day of actual instruction, interspersed with play and chores and being a kid.
Why is this a difficult decision? It's pretty much staring me in the face, getting ready to smack me with a sandwich for being so wishy-washy. This is dumb.
Ok, thanks my reader - I've decided. Now to announce my intentions to Grumpasaur...if you don't hear from me in a few days, send out the dogs.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Breathe Easy - a note to the nose
Oh my nose, how I've missed you! My lips are so thankful that you are back, and are hoping for a speedy recovery from the horrid chapping and splitting endured over the last week as a result of all the lip-licking and mouth-breathing going on.
On another, slightly more personal note, I'd like to thank you for opportunity to use a nasal strip every night. I was able to breathe a little easier, AND (total plus) the adhesive on those thing yanks blackheads better than any Biore strip I've ever used, without yanking off layers of skin. On the flip-side of that, the gargantuan zit you grew just south of the nose strip was unexpected and completely inappropriate.
Did you know that Midol & Pamprin really help relieve nasal swelling? I sure didn't, until I grabbed the wrong bottle from the cabinet in a fit of watery-eyed, drippy nosed, mouth-breathing pique.
Maybe I need to invent a nose-tampon. I mean, I'm sure I stuffed an entire case worth of Kleenex up my nose in a vain attempt to stem the flow of snot...why not just stuff an 8-hour moisture-sucker up there? We do it once a month anyway, so what's another box of plugs on the grocery list? Oh right, one more thing you can't send your manly man to the store for at 10 pm when you run out.
On another, slightly more personal note, I'd like to thank you for opportunity to use a nasal strip every night. I was able to breathe a little easier, AND (total plus) the adhesive on those thing yanks blackheads better than any Biore strip I've ever used, without yanking off layers of skin. On the flip-side of that, the gargantuan zit you grew just south of the nose strip was unexpected and completely inappropriate.
Did you know that Midol & Pamprin really help relieve nasal swelling? I sure didn't, until I grabbed the wrong bottle from the cabinet in a fit of watery-eyed, drippy nosed, mouth-breathing pique.
Maybe I need to invent a nose-tampon. I mean, I'm sure I stuffed an entire case worth of Kleenex up my nose in a vain attempt to stem the flow of snot...why not just stuff an 8-hour moisture-sucker up there? We do it once a month anyway, so what's another box of plugs on the grocery list? Oh right, one more thing you can't send your manly man to the store for at 10 pm when you run out.
Monday, April 16, 2012
I'll take mammals who crap in the yard for $500 Alex
Potty training is so (not) rewarding. It just warms the heart to see your little darling run up to you and proudly announce that he has successfully pooped by himself. This is a true, pretty much word-for-word story from last week.
Thing: Mama! I poop like Lucy!
Me: (thinks, Lucy is a dog, how the he…oh crap). Um, that’s great – did you flush?
Thing: Nope, not in terlit, like Luce inna dewt!
Stanky: Yeah, yeah, uh, mom, momma, mommy, Thing, he, um, he, he just pooped in the yawd.
Dramasaur: Seriously, mom, he totally pulled his pants down, copped a squat in front of the bush and took a dump. Totally. It looks like dog poop.
Me: (hyperventilating a little) And you just WATCHED him do it?! What were you thinking?! Who poops in the YARD?!! DISGUSTING, all of you! GROSS!!! Grab some toilet paper and clean it up!
Grumpasaur: (who was also outside and managed to miss this entire situation) Wait, what’s going on? Who pooped?
Stanky: Dad, dad, daddy, Thing just pewped a tuhd like Lucy on the duht and it looks like Lucy poop but it’s not it’s Thing-poop and mom’s mad.
Grumpasaur: (manfully repressing guffaws) uh, ok, lets go check it out and clean it up.
Dramasaur: Don’t worry, I cleaned it up. (hefts large slab of tree bark with greenish blob stuck to the end).
Me: Don’t you DARE…not through the HOUSE! Oh for the love of…DRAMA!! Do NOT TAKE THAT IN THE HOUSE!
Stanky: Well where we s’posed to take it?
Me: The GARBAGE or something!
Grumpasaur: Well, at least he didn’t poo-paint the walls this time.
And that’s the silver lining of this particulary cloud.
Thing: Mama! I poop like Lucy!
Me: (thinks, Lucy is a dog, how the he…oh crap). Um, that’s great – did you flush?
Thing: Nope, not in terlit, like Luce inna dewt!
Stanky: Yeah, yeah, uh, mom, momma, mommy, Thing, he, um, he, he just pooped in the yawd.
Dramasaur: Seriously, mom, he totally pulled his pants down, copped a squat in front of the bush and took a dump. Totally. It looks like dog poop.
Me: (hyperventilating a little) And you just WATCHED him do it?! What were you thinking?! Who poops in the YARD?!! DISGUSTING, all of you! GROSS!!! Grab some toilet paper and clean it up!
Grumpasaur: (who was also outside and managed to miss this entire situation) Wait, what’s going on? Who pooped?
Stanky: Dad, dad, daddy, Thing just pewped a tuhd like Lucy on the duht and it looks like Lucy poop but it’s not it’s Thing-poop and mom’s mad.
Grumpasaur: (manfully repressing guffaws) uh, ok, lets go check it out and clean it up.
Dramasaur: Don’t worry, I cleaned it up. (hefts large slab of tree bark with greenish blob stuck to the end).
Me: Don’t you DARE…not through the HOUSE! Oh for the love of…DRAMA!! Do NOT TAKE THAT IN THE HOUSE!
Stanky: Well where we s’posed to take it?
Me: The GARBAGE or something!
Grumpasaur: Well, at least he didn’t poo-paint the walls this time.
And that’s the silver lining of this particulary cloud.
The things boys worry about
This conversation happened between the Grumpasaur and Stanky last night:
Stanky saunters out of the bathroom, stopping Grumpasaur in the hall. 'Dad, when I grow up and get bigger, am I gonna be stuck with this??' (picture small boy suggestively gesticulating towards his junk and you'll get the gist of this conversation)
Since Grumpasaur could barely relate the episode without snickering, I can fill in his answer myself.
That is all.
Stanky saunters out of the bathroom, stopping Grumpasaur in the hall. 'Dad, when I grow up and get bigger, am I gonna be stuck with this??' (picture small boy suggestively gesticulating towards his junk and you'll get the gist of this conversation)
Since Grumpasaur could barely relate the episode without snickering, I can fill in his answer myself.
That is all.
Musings of a geriatric mother - or something like that.
I’m 35. Wow, it still feels strange to say that, and I’ve been 35 now for (counting fingers) 13 days now. I’m in a whole other survey bracket.
If, heaven forbid, I was to get knocked up again (fat chance!) I’d be freaking geriatric pregnant chick at the OB’s office. Thank the good Lord that’s never gonna happen!
So, the point is, I’m 35 now. Happy freakin’ birthday to me.
If, heaven forbid, I was to get knocked up again (fat chance!) I’d be freaking geriatric pregnant chick at the OB’s office. Thank the good Lord that’s never gonna happen!
So, the point is, I’m 35 now. Happy freakin’ birthday to me.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Go suck an egg
It’s been a REALLY horrible week. Epically horrible, and no just because I am officially older either. I want this week to go suck a rotten egg already!
Kids can be so horrible to one another. I remember how awful parts of my childhood were because of other kids, and I’d hoped my boys would be able to avoid that crap, at least until they are a little older than 5 and 7. Especially the stuff I’m hearing about that nobody should have to deal with. My heart hurts. My head hurts. Sleep eludes me, and food (which you all know is my friend) tastes like paste.
I’m not going into details here. It’s still on the DL due to some, uh, “official”, um, stuff. But it’s been hard on the whole family. Lots of tears, lots of ugly things said, lots of hugs and reassurances, lots of one-on-one mommy or daddy time.
And in the middle of it all, I hit 35. And pretty much my whole family forgot all day, which sucked. I got tons of really nice wishes on my FB page, so that was nice, and a good way to start that day (thanks!!!). But sorry babe, I really don’t want to be responsible for handling ANY arrangements for ANYTHING connected to celebrating my day, including finding a sitter, deciding where to eat, who to invite or when to do it all. I have 3 kids plus you to do all that for, plus remembering b-days and anniversaries and such for all the extended family. I’d like a day without planning, please
I think I need to be done before I spill my guts. No can do bug-a-boo. It’s a much better idea to start stuffing the easter eggs, or maybe helping the boys decorate their Easter buckets. Yeah, that’s it. I’m outtie.
Kids can be so horrible to one another. I remember how awful parts of my childhood were because of other kids, and I’d hoped my boys would be able to avoid that crap, at least until they are a little older than 5 and 7. Especially the stuff I’m hearing about that nobody should have to deal with. My heart hurts. My head hurts. Sleep eludes me, and food (which you all know is my friend) tastes like paste.
I’m not going into details here. It’s still on the DL due to some, uh, “official”, um, stuff. But it’s been hard on the whole family. Lots of tears, lots of ugly things said, lots of hugs and reassurances, lots of one-on-one mommy or daddy time.
And in the middle of it all, I hit 35. And pretty much my whole family forgot all day, which sucked. I got tons of really nice wishes on my FB page, so that was nice, and a good way to start that day (thanks!!!). But sorry babe, I really don’t want to be responsible for handling ANY arrangements for ANYTHING connected to celebrating my day, including finding a sitter, deciding where to eat, who to invite or when to do it all. I have 3 kids plus you to do all that for, plus remembering b-days and anniversaries and such for all the extended family. I’d like a day without planning, please
I think I need to be done before I spill my guts. No can do bug-a-boo. It’s a much better idea to start stuffing the easter eggs, or maybe helping the boys decorate their Easter buckets. Yeah, that’s it. I’m outtie.
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