Happy Halloween

Sweetling is WordGirl. Little Guy is Captain Huggyface.

No Flash

For some reason, both Webkinz and K12 have suddenly decided they don't like the version of flash that I'm running. This might be a good thing, because it means I've done a little laundry this morning while Sweetling has been conquering pre-algebra. (Little Guy is watching his morning shows).

But I need my webkinz fix, so I'm posting my new sig picture that I'm using on Webkinz Insider.

Ode to Mango

I was so sure, so absolutely certain, so beyond any shadow of a doubt positive, that I explained why Mango is Mango. But, since blogger has a search function, I did a search on my blog.....and I don't think I ever *did* explain why Mango is Mango.

If I'm wrong, its because I have weak google-fu.

This post is all about Mango. Mango had the misfortune of being talked into being my assistant leader for AHG last year. Now, this is a terrible fate for two reasons --1) I should not be "in charge" of anything...not if you want things to run smoothly; and 2) in a group of giggling, excited, little girls...I am the most giggly and excited of them all. But poor Mango didn't know this when Telephone talked her into 'helping' me. Maybe Telephone thought the girls needed a responsible adult with them. I certainly don't fit that category. I am a great girl leader though :) But I digress... we went through several AHG meetings and a few phone calls being friendly. I was very grateful and appreciative of Mango, because she would call me the afternoon of the meeting and ask what we were doing that night....at which point I'd start brainstorming, Mango would listen and support, and then bring snacks, craft supplies, photocopies, library books...and whatever else we needed based on my zany ideas. It was almost like we were organized.

But, while I liked and deeply, deeply appreciated Mango during the year....it wasn't till Camporee that I truly became a number-one Mango fan :) For a few weeks after the Camporee weekend (ok....it felt like weeks), I followed the Jedi around talking about Mango, and how I really, really hoped Mango would be my friend, and did he think I should call Mango, or would that be too pushy? Maybe I should just send her a gift on Webkinz? I think I drove the Jedi crazy. Or maybe the Jedi has just perfected the art of tuning me out when I'm irrational.

Irrational or not, the point is....it was over Camporee weekend that I realized how cool Mango was, and how neat we clicked together. And thus, it was right after Camporee that Mango needed a blog name. And, since Mango had confessed to me her secret love of mango margaritas during camporee....and since Mango needed a name that was a) unique and different, b) sounded like fun, c) just a tiny bit fruity, and d) would always remind me of that camporee weekend.... Mango Margarita it was. I had tiny pangs of guilt about the name later....when she went and named me Mary Poppins on her blog (cause I'm practically perfect in every way). But I think there's an unwritten rule that stipulates blog names should never be changed. Something about the universe unraveling. And really, I've tossed around other name ideas for Mango....but secretly, I really *like* the name Mango. I liked it when I picked it....for all the reasons already outlined, and I still like it. I could call her MM (for Mango Margarita of course)....or let those initials become M&M....cause chocolate is always always a good thing. Or "The Other Pea" cause the Jedi says we two are like two peas in a pod. Or ENFP, cause she is, like me. Or BFF if I'm being cutesy and elementary again. Or Kindred Spirit, but that sounds too...I don't know, not playful enough. But I like Mango the best of all the options I can come up with.

Anyway, Mango brought me dinner last Saturday, when we got back from North Carolina. And I started this post on Sunday....but I'm a me....and more than a week later I 'm getting around to finishing my post. She also brought me a webkinz, a littlekinz bunny which I promptly named Jennikins. And in return I derailed her week by getting her addicted to the fall leaf hunt on Webkinz world. Cause that's the considerate sort of friend *I* am. But, in the true spirit of togetherness, I sat on the phone and chatted with her while we both were sitting in front of our computers hoping a leaf would drift across our screens. See, I can be giving ;) (And then she in return sent me the fall poster...which is the one prize I couldn't bag during the leaf hunt...along with virtual fudge, and virtual chocolate of course).

To sum up....

Hooray for Mango! I'm so glad she's my friend :)

Doctors and Otters and Donuts...Oh MY!

The doctor visit today went really well. Everyone was really nice and explained every little step to me. They also said that they could do an epideral, if I preferred, but that they would have to keep me in recovery longer for that. They said they do many, many MH biopsy tests all the time, and that the anesthetic they use for MH patients is a very safe anesthetic and no one has ever had a reaction to it. They also said that if I was feeling natious, they would be sure to give me some anti-nausia medication in the recovery room. (They said a lot of people are more worried about getting nautious from the anesthesia than they are worried about whatever surgery they are going to have). I really liked everyone I talked to, and am feeling much better about the proceedure now.

I am supposed to check in tomorrow at 6am. i forgot to ask how long they anticipated the procedure taking. But they were doing me as one of the first cases in the morning. Apparantly the test they need to do with the muscle takes 4-6 hours, and has to be done right away, so they always do the MH biopsies early. The good news about that is that Dr Lin, who will be experimenting on my muscle in her lab, said she'll call our cell phones that afternoon with the result. That's much better than I expected. I figured I'd have to wait until next week sometime to know. She also asked for a lot of family history info (not all of which I knew) trying to trace possible MH episodes through the family tree. If I test positive, I promised I'd sit down with mother and put together a more accurate family tree to email her. They try to keep records of how it effects families, since it is genetic, in the hopes of being able to understand it better. Apparantly there is a combination of multiple genes that come together to make MH.

The bad news is, since they need the muscle tissue fresh, and since certain clotting agents would render it useless as a biopsy sample, when they do the incision they cant use any of the clotting agents they would normally use. So, there's a lot of bleeding with an MH biopsy. They said to expect a lot of blood (like bruising) under the skin. The doctor that will be taking the biopsy said that in rare cases someone has had to go back in to have excess blood trapped under the skin drained away. That falls into the yuck category.

The other good news is....I saw otters today at a nature preserve. They were adorable. So curious and playful when we were there. They popped there little heads up and watched us, and then started doing back flips off the ledges for their audience.

I also had the best donuts EVER. We went to Krispy Kreme, because Pastor Tim told us we had to ;) And OH....the boxes of donuts in the grocery totally doesn't do them justice. Inside the store, they had a little production line of donuts with glass windows so costumers can watch the donuts being made. That in itself was super cool. THEN they gave us free sample donuts, right off the line, dipped it a chocolate fountain. The donuts were so warm when they handed them to me they were almost too hot to hold. We let them cool a little, and then bit into them....ahhhhhhh.....soooooooo good!!! They were literally melt in your mouth good. The little guy and I sat at the table eating our donuts. I actually held his donut for him, and fed him, cause the warm chocolate icing was so messy. Even so we *both* wound up with chocolate all our our faces and hands. We were giggling and having a great time. (I think it was the little guys excitement at seeing the donuts made, and his great smile that earned us the free donuts. No one else got offered samples, just our family.)

Telephone's email

As much as I tease Telephone...even giving her the blog name Telephone, she is a really good friend. I emailed her the same thing I posted earlier tonight, and this was her response... (names have been changed to protect the innocent of course. And should any member of your team be captured...)

So they are putting you under. We will pray that there is no reaction when they do this Friday . Let me know what time this will all take place, so I can be praying. I did not realize the incisions would be that big. I hope that you will not be sore from the incision site. If when you get back and the Jedi is back at work on Monday I can come and help if you need it. I just need to be back here by 2:00 for babysitting. You took such good care of me and now I can return the favor to a really good friend. I'm glad that God has placed you in my life. You are such a special and close friend, if not one of my best friends. I love ya!! Take care and talk to you later.

Just a teeny bit nervous

The Caffeine Halothane Contracture Test (CHCT), a test performed on freshly biopsied muscle, is the “gold standard” for diagnosis of MH. It can be performed only in roughly 30 centers worldwide, eight of which are located in the United States and Canada. The patient must travel to one of these sites for the test because the test must be completed within hours after muscle is removed.

Following administration of a non-triggering anesthetic, the CHCT will require the removal of approximately two grams of muscle (less than one-tenth of an ounce, about the size of a dime), through a two- to three-inch incision usually from the thigh. The force response of the muscle after exposure to caffeine and separately to halothane in the laboratory is characterized and recorded electronically. Comparison of the strength of contracture (sustained muscle tension) with previously established standards allows determination of MH susceptibility. Muscle from MH susceptibles (MHS) is more sensitive and elicits contractures at lower levels to the administered trigger agents.

This is the other thing we're going to North Carolina to do.

People reply! People reply!

Only Smurf will get the title of this entry. I'll explain it to the rest of you, cause i'm nice that way...but as most inside jokes, it probably won't be funny even after its explained.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, Smurf started an rp board based on the Harry Potter series. We (cause she drafted many of her friends into filling staff positions at Hogwarts) quickly became the largest, and best Harry Potter rp site on the internet. No exageration. Despite being the best, and despite the fact that we carefully screen all applications to join by having them submit a character history and writing sample...we still had several individuals who were still just a tiny bit immature. There were often several attempts at hosting a party. The opening post would go something like this...a brief description of assorted charms to create streamers or twinkling lights, an assurance that butter bear had been smuggled in, and some sentence about how cool their character was.

The opening party post often went ignored by the rest of the school, or at best was attended by a couple students posting with how cool their character was. Invariably though, these threads degenerated into the original poster spamming the tread with one or two line posts reading "This is going to be the best party ever" and then many posts each reading "People reply! People reply!"

so, I'm sitting here, cause the laundry monster is lurking downstairs. I'm trolling blogs that no one is updating cause many of my friends have gone over to the dark side of the force and only do facebook now. And in my head I'm chanting, 'People reply! People reply!'

And now you know, the rest of the story.

Check out where we're going this week. Hooray for us :)

I have pink feathers in my hair

This weekend was our women's conference at Dayspring. Every fall, we have either a women's retreat at a state park lodge or a hotel....or we have a conference at church. (We alternate between those two options.)

A few days ago, I was writing in my Beth Moore devotional book. The question was, "Think of a time when you sensed the power of God 'come upon you' in a moment of crisis, or worship, or perhaps on an otherwise ordinary day. What was it like, and why do you think He chooses when and how to reveal His presence so tangibly?"

at first, it seemed that all of my remembrances of when I really felt close to God, felt his presence, had to do with childbirth, pregnancy, motherhood. Whether through a 'coincidence' to big to be a coincidence, or through feeling him near when we would be at the altar praying for Little Guy or Vaya while we were waiting for God to bring them home to us...or a thousand little things about being a mother.

Then I started thinking of other times that I felt His presence, felt His nearness, felt His hand...and nearly all of my list happen at women's retreats or conferences...
--the wreath of flowers I made and wore during my prayer walk
--the words of prophecy and encouragement spoken to me under the veiled canopy
--the communion of smores around the campfire last year as I burnt pages filled with the hurt of the past that I've finally been able to acknowledge
--the arms of a sister I never met before around me as we both cried together
--the words of comfort 'spoken' to me when I was hiding in a restroom stall, crying for Mammaw's death, feeling very alone


Sometimes, it is the message shared during the retreats that speaks to me, changes me. Sometimes it is the fellowship of women that I cherish most. This year, I think it was the fellowship that was most meaningful, though I did need the message to refocus myself. I've been sliding into a slump over the last couple of weeks, not focusing where I needed to focus, feeling like a failure, and looking for any means of 'escape' from my daily life that I could. This year's theme was "On the Dot". I want to remember each day, that the little things do make a difference in my life and in the life of my family members. Sometimes its so discouraging to wash the dishes, clean the kitchen, sweep and mop the floor....and by the next day the efforts of that labor seem to have been for naught. Its easier, and more appealing, to give up, surf the web....do whatever. but that only leads to me feeling frustrated and inadequate. And then school with Sweetling and Little Guy starts to slip....and we've started this downward spiral. "Hour by hour I commit my days to you." I don't need to be Susy Homemaker or Martha Stewart. I just need to be me, to be the wonderful woman God created me to be....to love and teach my children and care for my home and family. To write and draw and dance and sing. To not give up just because things aren't perfect.

But, I digress. I love being with the women at Dayspring. I can be myself. I can stick pink feathers in my hair. I can stand on a chair. I can sit in a room of women blowing bubbles with the rest of them. I can hoard the chocolate kisses (yes, yes, I did share them....but someone was trying to "clean them up" after lunch....I had to save them from that fate.) I can scoot to the edge of my chair, and three women around me will be encouraging me to stand up and share my thoughts, knowing that I'm considering it, but was hesitating, just by the subtle shift in my posture. I can walk down the hallway singing. I can wax poetic. I can tease and be teased. I can laugh and cry and hug and share with them.

So, I have pink feathers in my hair today. The chairs were decorated with tulle bows, some of which had feather puffs. Yesterday, I took two of the bows, and placed them on the heads of two of the young girls at the conference. One of the other women put a puff of black feathers at the top of her short, blonde, straight hair. Today, several of us were wearing bows and feathers in our hair. We were enjoying ourselves, enjoying each others company, enjoying our time of renewal and refocusing.

Zerburts are coming

I'm not allowed to blog about this, but it made for a good title. So I shall now ramble about something else instead, lest the nine year old's lips are permanently distorted from pouting so hard. Go do your vocabulary, you nine year old you.

Have I mentioned that I love being the one in charge?

I called Mango today, because I needed to explain to someone the latest soap opera that HoneyBee has called me with. Yes, yes. I am such a girly girl that way. Someone calls me with a problem, and I immediately get off the phone and call someone else.

Mango, I learned, has a completely separate log that she was HOLDING OUT ON ME. But I think I made her late to her carpool for dance keeping her on the phone trying to talk me through typing in a simple URL. The Force is not with me. We all know this. But now I have her OTHER blog, and I put it in my links.

Facebook, by the way, is absolutely the dark side of the force. Christopher Robin has deserted me for Facebook. Its evil. Evil. Vaya is on Facebook too....but at least she does both. Smurf deserted blogging so long ago it doesn't bear mentioning. (And yet you notice I'm mentioning it anyway.)

Little Guy threw up in the middle of the night. I changed his sheets, got him all cleaned up and tucked back into bed. I unrolled a sleeping back and slept, fitfully, on his floor the rest of the night. This morning he was fine. He immediately went to the whiteboard in the kitchen to practice his letters. He spent the rest of the morning alternating between laying on the couch watching PBS kids, and jumping up and down on the trampoline watching PBS kids.

I took one bite of my lunch today and my stomach said, "dont send down another bite." So, I didn't. I feel crappy, but not crappy enough to declare myself sick and put myself to bed. I had a piece of toast an hour ago, and that's stayed with me. I know all of you are totally enthralled by whether or not my stomach is a tiny bit quesy. Don't worry, I'm totally here for your entertainment needs like that.

And because we've just firmly established that I'm NOT pathetic.... I'm tagging myself. Someone tagged Mango....and I'm sure Mango *meant* to tag me. So, I'm just helping her with that, so that she doesn't feel bad later or anything.

Here are the rules:
1) The player starts with 8 random facts about herself.

2) The person who is tagged must post on her own blog her answers and post the rules first.

3) Then the player must pick 8 people and tag them. Also leave them a note on Message that lets them know that you tagged them. You can write who you tagged on your blog also!

(The downfall here being that I don't have 8 people to tag, because Facebook is *evil*.)

But 8 random facts about myself:

1. I generally do not like stories in which vampires are the protagonists in any way. Vampires, as a rule, should be staked and decapitated. None of this nouveau misunderstood sensitive brooding goth figure. No no. Blood-sucking creatures of the night as a rule do not get sympathy points in my book. (Rules of course, do have exceptions.)

2. I am so disappointed that Sweetling was never into the Barbie movies. I lost my excuse to watch them. I'm not overly fond of Barbie dolls, but darn it, I did want to watch Barbie Swan Lake.

3. Coffee is a nasty, nasty drink. Why do grown people choose to drink coffee? It tastes like medicine.

4. I had a few years of my life, maybe a decade, in which I was cute and physically attractive, and I didn't appreciate it at the time. Now, I'm always surprised when i catch sight of myself in a mirror. I expect to see the 20 year old me staring back at me...but middle age has crept up on me. (Ok, in fairness, middle age and a bigtime lack of exercise).

5. Exercise is boring. I would like to be active...bikeriding, dance, hiking....but that involves fitting stuff into the schedule.

6. If we won the lottery, the first thing I would want is a new house. I like this house, but there are so many little things that just bog me down all the time. Even the Jedi notices. We were watching tv and a Stanely Cleaner add for carpet cleaning came on. The Jedi said, "Our carpet needs taken out back and burned." He's so right. So, I don't want a mansion. I just want a house with everything fresh and new and clean.

7. Or a castle in a forest. That wouldn't disappoint me either.

8. I hate the phrase "If your bored its cause you're boring."

Teacher In-Service Day

I love being the one in charge. And since no one that has a job reads this (except Vaya, and I already told her), I was absolutely irresponsible today.

I spent the day reading the third book in this cool series....I don't know what the series is called, but the first book is Twilight by Stephanie Meyer. I was going to post the link to her page...but it has too many spoilers in it. But you must all go to the library and find this book and read it. Look deep into my eyes....repeat after me....'I must read Twilight...I must read Twilight....' "

See how painless that was.

Crap. Ok, I have to post the link...but ONLY THE MAVEN is allowed to go read the link first. The rest of you have to read the book first, then the link. And by saying that, everyone is going to click the link immediately. You nosey people you.

Fine. I'm not going to post it. Tptptptptp.

Having a Day.

It's 8:59 and I'm having a day.

It started so long ago.
I've rushed around here, I've rushed around there.
I've barely had time to wash my frizzy hair.

It's 8:59 and I'm having a day.
I'm exhausted, burnt out, spent.
Forgot to call the dentist, forgot to run the dishwasher.
Forgot to feed the gerbil or water the plants.

It's 8:59 and I'm having a day.
The papers on my desk have spilled onto the floor.
The clutter in the closet has crept out.
There's schoolwork to be graded and attendance to be logged,
And our houseguest for the week is a stomach-sick dog.

----------------------------------

And cut. I started that on Friday night. Got interrupted by a Little Guy who had been nicely tucked into bed who later decided "My still hungry Mommy. Mommy, my still hungry. My playing with doggy and my forgot my ice cream."

And the doggie isn't stomach sick anymore. She's just fine.

And the weekend was great.

So basically my little pity party poem doesn't apply anymore. But I'm posting it anyway.

Because I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.

Slow Me Down

I am not techno cool....so you'll just have to follow the link to the video.

Slow Me Down

Bike helmets, not just a product of runaway lawsuits

Friday was a beautiful day. We've had a lot of beautiful days recently, and Friday was one of them. And it was a Friday...so that made it doubly beautiful. Hello lamppost, how's it going? I've come to watch your flowers growing. That sort of beautiful.

So we ditched school in the afternoon and decided to take the bikes and go to a park. Sweetling is still...wait...Sweetling *was* still working on mastering the two wheeler thing. The problem being that the sidewalks are a bit too narrow. Nevermind that they are three to four feet wide. The grass edges kept sneaking up on her and making her lose her balance. So a park trip, to a place with a big empty parking lot, was totally in order.

Load up bikes, load up waterbottles, load up kids, load up bike helmets.

A word on my previous attitude about bike helmets. Since the invention of the bicycle in the 1800's, no child has worn a helmet to ride a bike. Helmets were reserved for motorcycles, when they came out, and people who were doing things like putting both wheels of their bike above their heads on a regular basis. Good old 'hop on your bike and ride down the street' never needed a helmet. Even if it was, hop on your bike, ride down the street, and over the bike ramp you and your friends have made in the neighbors driveway out of cinderblocks and a old piece of half-rotted plywood you dragged up from the woods. No one wore helmets. Ever. And a never knew, met, or even heard of anyone who had a serious head injury from lack of bike helmet. But you know, we also made long car trips in the back of station wagons without seatbelts, so what did we know?

Anyway, enter the 1990s. Its now popular to drop your 6wk infant off at daycare for nine hours a day...but by jimminy, you better get him a bike helmet for his tricycle when he's old enough. (And you'll know when that time is, because the daycare workers who are raising him will let you know when he starts mastering petalling the bikes in the large motor room). Otherwise people might think you weren't a very attentive parent.

So bike helmets.

Sweetling, of course, had a helmet when she got her two-wheeler with the training wheels and her scooter....but it wasn't because Mommy was really concerned about this whole helmet thing. It was because she had watched PBS, and so she *knew* that she was *supposed* to have a helmet. And Sweetling doesn't do anything unless she can do it the way its *supposed* to be done. Blame the Jedi for that. She certainly didn't inherit that from *me*.

Now, here we are in the van on our way to the park. (Little Guy has a helmet too...I couldn't very well have Sweetling in a helmet and not Little Guy. Its a paranoid mom thing, you know?) We get to the park, helmets get strapped on, bikes get taken out. "Don't ride past this point" speeches get made. And we're ready. Little Guy takes off. Sweetling gets a pep talk and a promise that I'm not going to suddenly let go of her. (She could tell, months ago, that I might be the sort of parent to try that stunt.)

So I run beside and behind the Sweetling and after a few passes back and forth across the parking lot...she's got it!!!! There was one other family at the park that day, and the mom there was clapping and cheering for the Sweetling too. :)

I continue running along beside the Sweetling, just in case. And we tell Little Guy that Sweetling is not a target. We are not playing bumper cars here. And then Sweetling is doing great, so I chase Little Guy on his bike. (Little Guys favorite bike games are...race me...and 'oh no, big scary monster going to get me!') And after a while of doing both those activities in ninety degrees, full sunshine, on a blacktop, in the afternoon...Mommy was tired. So I went to stand beside the van, drink my waterbottle, and watch and encourage from a distance.

Which is when we get to the point of this story. Turning on a two wheeler is still tricky. So, Sweetling, heading towards a line of bushes at the end of the parking lot made a couple attempts at turning her bike, but they made her wobbly, so she kept going straight. Mommy, way too far away to get there even at a dead run, is yelling "Stop! Stop! Put your feet down!" Sweetling says she was screaming too loud to hear. Sweetling panics, takes her feet off the petals, and her hands off the handlebars, and hits the bushes at full tilt. I saw her little hands make one frantic grab to hang on to the bushes as the bike went in, and she went off the back of the bike.

From across the parking lot, I heard the crack as her helmet hit the black asphalt. By the time I got to her, she was struggling to her feet, and spitting out the leaves that her open, screaming mouth had nearly injested. Her bike was wedged several feet into the bushes. After reassuring myself and the Sweetling that she was all right, I had to crawl into the bushes to grab the seat of her bike and drag it backwards to get it out.

The helmet had a huge gouge out of the styrofoam where it had taken the impact in place of her skull.

So, safety helmets. Not just a result of yuppy lifestyles.

Sweetling, by the way, did a great job of getting back on her bike and riding it again. Little Guy, who thought that this was all very funny, rode his bike into the bushes on purpose twice before Mommy could convince him not to do that.

All in all, a great Friday outing.

Robin Hood and St. George

Sweetling and I are doing school. Her literature assignment is to write a two paragraph essay comparing and contrasting Robin Hood and St. George (using the short stories "St. George and the Dragon" by J. Berg Esenwien and Marietta Stockard, and "Robin Hood and Allin-a-Dale" by James Baldwin). We're doing this together as a nice example of how to write a short academic essay. Sweetling wanted to post in on my blog.

Here's our outline:
1. same
a. care for poor
b. brave
2. different
a. St George would have given his own money to the poor, Robin Hood took from the rich
b. St. George helps people solve their problems by getting rid of the problem by murder, Robin Hood would solve their problem in a non-lethal way

Here's our essay:

St. George and Robin Hood are both brave heros who care for the poor. After all the trouble in St. George's city was gone, he went out to see what else he could do. He didn't just lay around and do nothing. Robin Hood was willing to rob from others to give it to the poor.
St. George is a knight whose job is to uphold the law, but Robin Hood is an outlaw who breaks the rules. If St. George wanted to give money to the poor, he would have given his own money, but Robin Hood took it from others. St. George solved everyone's problems by killing whatever was causing the problem, for example he killed the dragon that was threatening the city. But, Robin Hood would solve their problems in a non-lethal way. For example when Alin-a-Dale came to him with the problem that his fiance was marrying someone else, Robin Hood didn't kill that woman or the person she was marrying.

demented and sad, but social

I was feeling slightly bummed about my list, but that quickly changed when I won my cash cow trophy. Here is my Phoebe standing beside her trophy. I also made chocolate chip cookies. Those things are sort of related. Reach for it.

three day weekend

All weekends should come with three days in them. Unless, of course, they had four days in them.

In no particular order I--

--sat on a blanket in the shade of a tree and read a Star Trek novel while Sweetling, Little Guy, and the Jedi rode bikes in the church parking lot.
--spent several hours trying to win a trophy for Cash Cow on Webkinz.
--lost splendidly at a game of Age of Empires.
--tried to convince Little Guy that mommy didn't forget to pour juice in his cup...the juice was just *invisible*.
--watched videos of Sweetling when she was a baby. Laid on the couch and cried after she had gone to bed because she didn't *need* me anymore
--wished there was a cookie fairy to bring homebaked chocolate chip cookies to good little girls like me.
--got a nifty new tablet PC cause the Jedi loves me. Played with it, but didnt save any of the doodles.
--went $50 over budget at the grocery store on Friday
--learned from another mom with preschool boys that needing to clean the bathroom at least once a day was totally normal.
--tried to convince the Jedi that every child drinks their hot chocolate with a spoon. That's just how its *done*
--gave up on my cash cow trophy and rearranged my Webkinz yard instead. (I gave up on my real yard back in May of this year. I just had no time or energy to put into failing at gardening this year.)
--went overboard in printing out cute little graphics for little know special days to put on the september calendar. our calendar now has playdoh day, talk like a pirate day, and elephant appreciation day.
--did NOT join a new online rp. But oh the temptation.
--did NOT watch Angel. I'm on a critical episode and I can't get the disk to play either in the laptop or on the media center pc. Boo hoo.
--watched another episode of the States with the Jedi. Saw more places that I'd love to visit "someday"
--did not have to clean house or cook dinner for guests from the international sales offices at the Jedi's work. I love having them to dinner, because they have such great stories (and the guy from Belgium brings chocolate). But I'm in a lazy three day weekend mode.
--avoided getting involved in the tickle wars between children and the Jedi
--ate the very last of the Chinese leftovers from our anniversary on Wednesday
--ate many spoonfuls of Heggy's fudge straight from the container

This list is a little less eclectic than I would like it to be. What can I do to change that?

Poem (not by Me)

Best Thing about Homeschooling
by Marty Layne

Time to sit and read to your children out loud
Time to stay in your pajamas all day and play
Time to watch your children as they put on plays
Time to listen to your children
Time to look at spiders
Time to go for a walk when the sun is shining,
or the rain has just started to fall, or the wind is blowing hard
Time to understand your children, to discover what makes them happy,
sad, mad, or glad, and help them understand themselves
Time to build relationships
Time for a child to follow an interest
Time for a child to be bored
Time to sing
Time for a child to learn how to live in a family with other people
all sharing the same space
Time for a child to just sit outside and daydream
Time for a child to read
Time for a child to discover things
Time to paint in the kitchen and make a mess
Time to learn patience
Time to laugh together
Time to play games together
Time to just sit with a child and be quiet together
Time to call your own.

Little Guy came dancing into the school room today. I was working with Sweetling on something. Little Guy was chanting, "More school for me! More school for me! I love my school! More school for me!"

Sweetling took her first unit assessment for Pre-Algebra today. It is, by the way, totally NOT ok to call pre-algebra "math." She has a pre-algebra book, not a math book, thank you. And its not time to do math, its time to do prealgebra. And of course, the notebook is a pre-algrebra notebook, not a math notebook. And the student pages are pre-algebra student pages, not math. And on it goes. And "Sarah sold 17 more cakes on Saturday than she sold on Friday. How many cakes did she sell in all?" can be found with the expression 17 + 2n, of course.

Unfinished Business

I got tired of having the unfinished Richard and Fawn sketch as my wallpaper. So I took a few minutes and made this instead.

From an email forward

North and South

The North has Bloomingdale's, the South has Dollar General.

The North has coffee houses, the South has Waffle Houses.

The North has dating services, the South has family reunions.

The North has switchblade knives; the South has Lee Press-on Nails.

The North has double last names; the South has double first names.

The North has Indy car races; The South has stock car races.

North has Cream of Wheat, the South has grits.

The North has green salads, the South has collard greens.

The North has lobsters, the South has crawfish.

The North has the rust belt; the South has the Bible Belt.

FOR NORTHERNERS MOVING SOUTH . .

In the South: --If you run your car into a ditch, don't panic. Four men in a four-wheel drive pickup truck with a tow chain will be along shortly. Don't try to help them, just stay out of their way. This is what they live for.

Don't be surprised to find movie rentals and bait in the same store.... do not buy food at this store.

Remember, "Y'all" is singular, "all y'all" is plural, and "all y'all's" is plural possessive

Get used to hearing "You ain't from round here, are ya?"

Save all manner of bacon grease. You will be instructed later on ho w to use it.

Don't be worried at not understanding what people are saying. They can't understand you either. The first adjectives to creep into a transplanted Northerners speech are "big'ol," and "little 'ol". Most Northerners begin their Southern-influenced dialect this way. All of them are in denial about it.

The proper pronunciation you learned in school is no longer proper!

Be advised that "He needed killin" is a valid defense here.

If you hear a Southerner exclaim, "Hey, y'all watch this," you should stay out of the way. These are likely to be the last words he'll ever say

If there is the prediction of the slightest chance of even the smallest accumulation of snow, your presence is required at the local grocery store. It doesn't matter whether you need anything or not.

Do not be surprised to find that 10-year olds own their own shotguns, they are proficient marksmen, and their mammas taught them how to aim.

In t he South, we have found that t he best way to grow a lush green lawn is to pour gravel on it and call it a driveway.

AND REMEMBER: If you do settle in the South and bear children, don't think we will accept them as Southerners. After all, if the cat had kittens in the oven, we wouldn't call 'em biscuits.

Send this to four people that ain't related to you, and I reckon your life will turn into a country music song 'fore you know it.

Your kin would get a kick out of it too!

Flora and Fauna

Background Info:
--On Mondays we have a pretest of the week's spelling words. If she gets a 90% or more, she doesnt have to do any worksheets for the week. We just write down the words she missed on a 'sticky' note and tack it to the wall. On Friday's we test all the stickies (and the words for the week, if she got less than 90% on the pretest).
--Each day, she lets one of her nine and teen webkinz have a special day. That webkinz joins us for school and goes everywhere with her that day.
--Today was Monday. Ergo spelling pretest and also Stompy the Hippo's special day.

Me (reading the spelling word and the prefab sentence from the teacher's guide): "Fauna. Poets often use the word fauna when writing about animal life in nature. Fauna."

Sweetling: What's fauna?

Me: "animal life in nature" (cause I'm so clever that way). You know, ...the flora and fauna of the forest bespoke my secret heart...

Sweetling: Stompy is covering his ears, which is very smart.

In other news, I'm not doing AHG next year. I haven't told Telephone yet. I was *going* to tell her today, cause we were going over to her house in the afternoon to watch high school musical 2. But, yeah. We got there, we started the movie right away, and Telephone had to scoot out RIGHT after the movie to get her boy to his soccer game. So.