Kindergarten for Dummies

Before I get started on a new post... I'll let you know what was true in my last post.

I broke my foot in college. Again, not saying how. And yes, it's still broken. It's one of those tiny fractures that won't ever heal.

Ok, now back to the regularly scheduled programming.

Today's post is about pondering weird ideas/thoughts that creep into my mind. I think my mind is a vast wasteland of useless trivia and random odd thoughts. What would it be like to be a lemur? Would I throw poop, too? No, I'm much to civilized. But maybe that is civilized behavior to monkeys. Hmmm... I wonder...

(ahem)

I was thinking about Kindergarten the other day. Wouldn't it be great to be 5 again? I look at Miles and I want his life. What does he have to worry about? Not peeing the bed. Making sure he bothers his older sister at least once per day. That's an awesome life. Then why the heck does he whine and cry so much? Suck it up kid, it goes downhill from here. Just ask your sister. 

Aside from the worry-free life of a 5 year old, Kindergarten is the place where we learn about important things that will take us through life.

Don't hit.
Don't take someone else's crayons or toys.
Listen before speaking.
Raise your hand.
Say "thank you" and "you're welcome."
Don't run with scissors.
Share.
Wait your turn.
Walking in a single file line.
Respect others.
Be polite.

I wonder if some of us adults need to go back to Kindergarten to brush up on these things. It might do us some good.

They have a bunch of "Dummies" books -- Chemistry for Dummies, Biology for Dummies, Accounting for Dummies, Pregnancy for Dummies (I have this one) -- you get the picture. I think it's time someone wrote Kindergarten for Dummies.

I'd buy it. I could brush up on walking single file behind my teacher. Plus, Joe caught me running with scissors the other day. Boy, was I in trouble.

I hate time outs.

Happy Friday.








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White Lies

I got an award from AV, whom I call the King of Blogger. He has a ton of blogs, so I'll name one...

Life is Just Like That...

• Thank the person who gave this to you. (Thanks, AV!!)
• Copy the logo and place it on your blog.
• Link to the person who nominated you.
• Tell up to six outrageous lies about yourself, and at least one outrageous truth – or – switch it around and tell six outrageous truths and one outrageous lie.
• Nominate seven “Creative Writers” who might have fun coming up with outrageous lies.
• Post links to the seven blogs you nominate.
• Leave a comment on each of the blogs letting them know you nominated them.

I'm telling 6 lies and 1 truth. Can you figure out the one truth?

1. I grew up in Canada.
2. I have 11 toes.
3. I have a tattoo. Not saying of what.
4. I broke my foot in college. Not saying how.
5. I was adopted.
6. I'm allergic to dogs.
7. I love oysters.

I'm going out on a limb here and not nominating anyone... If you want to participate, go right ahead.









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It's coming to an end...

No, not the blog... something else is coming to an end.

I write a lot about my kids' TV habits, the crappy shows they adore. However, I rarely ever write about the shows I'm absolutely obsessed with. Oh, I have shows that I cannot miss because if I do, I am not a happy camper. I don't watch many TV shows religiously but there is one that has taken up my time over the past 6 years and tonight it finally ends. I'm talking about Lost.

I like most of the HBO shows. I like Dexter on Showtime. Glee is pure fun. But Lost is something special. It's one show that Joe loves to watch as much as I do (well, he also likes 30 Rock but I think it's because he has a crush on Tina Fey). Unlike other shows on TV, it has kept you guessing. Whole blogs are devoted to the show's many mysteries. Since the beginning, fans have been theorizing about the island and the castaways. What is the island? Who's Jacob? Why does everyone have a daddy complex?

So, my show comes to an end tonight. It's like a good book that you don't want to put down but you want to know ending nonetheless.

Goodbye, Lost. It's been a great ride. Thanks for giving us quality television.





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Happy Birthday, Miss Caitlynn

My little girl is celebrating her birthday today! I haven't written too much about Caitlynn lately. Honestly, she hasn't been a source of material in recent months. Well, she has eaten a fair share of dijon mustard sandwiches or Chinese hot sauce sandwiches. I'm not kidding about the sandwiches. She used up a whole bottle of Sirachi hot sauce. She's an odd bird.

But I remember her birth just like it was yesterday. I'll spare you the details except to say that Tom Hanks prevented us from getting to the hospital on time. Because of him, we had to take a detour and it took us an extra 25 minutes to get to the hospital. It was an extra 25 minutes of me sitting in the car yelling at Joe to hurry up and get to the hospital. I'm sure Joe really appreciated it. This happened all because Hanks and Co. were filming a movie in our little suburb of Chicago. You had to film that day? At 4:00 am? Geez. Hollywood stars these days. Think they own the world.

Anyhoo...
It's Caitlynn's big day. We got off easy in the present department. She only wanted one thing, but she requested cupcakes for her class and a chocolate cake with chocolate ice cream in the middle covered with chocolate frosting.

I take it she likes chocolate.





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Are you smarter than a 5 year old?

Parenting is a great way to brush up on math and reading skills. Each day I overhear Joe reading to Miles a Dr. Seuss book and I find myself sitting next to Miles eagerly anticipating whether or not green eggs and ham are good! I bet they are!

Every day, Miles sings the ABC song and this helps me learn my ABC's, too. I always forget what comes after Q but thanks to Miles, I can now figure it out. He's also good at practicing his counting. Although, I'm not so sure 14 comes before 11. I may have to look this up on Wikipedia just to be sure.

Reciting the alphabet and counting to 10 has given me a renewed confidence in my learning ability. Thank goodness Miles learned his letters and numbers and is so willing to share his knowledge. I might very well be lost without him. Economics would have been much harder this term.

Thanks to Caitlynn, I am also brushing up on my multiplication tables. I always struggle with 7x6 or 8x7 or 6x8 but after practicing with Caitlynn, I feel like I can rule the world. Multiply by 9s? Bring it on, Kim Jong-il.

Caitlynn has also been a good source of trivia that I can use on Jeopardy. During the spring, she did a whole project dedicated to Teddy Roosevelt. I learned so many useless things that if a category on Jeopardy came up titled, "Names of Teddy's Horses," I would surely win. Thanks, Caitlynn! I owe you one!

So when was the last time you practiced your ABC's, multiplication tables, or learned a bunch of trivia about Susan B Anthony? Yeah. That's what I thought.

Parenting has made me smarter. I suggest you either have some of your own or babysit. Or read Wikipedia if you want to compete in today's world.

Oh, fiddlesticks!

How do you express pain or disappointment or when something doesn't go the way you want it to?

You usually say some sort of expletive. It's ok, I do it all the time. Just this morning I told the cat, who was hungry (really hungry) to "stop bitching and moaning" to me. Of course, he kept meowing at me until I fed him, but the kids found it funny that I cussed at the cat. Oddly enough, I think Dexter the Cat understood me and started eating his food.

While the kids know that there are some words that are taboo (um, the F word), they have figured the PG version of curse words.

Miles' favorite curse phrase is "Darn it." Whenever he's frustrated, I hear an "Oh darn it," coming from his direction. Funneee. Even though, I have heard the S word and damn, too, it's "darn it" that he uses the most.

Caitlynn has gone old school on us. She's started using "drats" to express frustration. Drats. I wonder if she'll start saying "Oh, fiddlesticks" or saying "fudgesicle" in place of the F word. It reminds me of little old ladies that don't want to curse in front of their grandchildren. These are the same little old ladies who have a candy dish (bottomless) sitting out and can bake a batch of cookies in the blink of an eye. I'm looking at you, Grandma Cook.

Of course, I'm happy that the kids don't copy everything I say. I say lots of bad words. I stub my toe a lot.

On another note, both my grandmothers celebrated birthdays this month. Happy Birthday to both Grandmas! They won't ever read this blog, but I'll put it out there anyway.









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Happy Mother's Day!

I have never proclaimed to be a normal mother. I guess this is why this morning I had to prompt the kids, "What is today?" And the kids replied in monotone, "It's mother's day." Don't so enthused, kiddos. I only gave birth to you and wiped your butts. That's nothing.

But my abnormal-like mothering was cemented in a recent trip to Barnes and Noble. (I don't mean to pick on the bookstore. They are just an easy target.) According to the major bookseller, mothers are sentimental and want gifts associated with feelings, hearts, and flowers.

Before I go on, I'll point out a bit of irony... I am writing this post in journal that is decorated with flowers. Don't get me wrong, I like flowers and nature and pretty things. I am a girl, gosh darn it.

However, as I was walking around the bookstore, I noticed displays of "Gifts for Mom." I found it interesting what major retailers think the average mother will want for Mother's Day. On the CD rack, they had albums by Susan Boyle, Norah Jones, and John Mayer. I wonder after seeing this if John Mayer is the new John Denver and Susan Boyle is the new Barbara Streisand. My mom was a big fan of John Denver and Barbara. Oh the memories of a childhood listening to Rocky Mountain High or Memory.

After seeing this display, I began to wonder if I should change my music tastes and start listening to easy-listening, AM radio. I have a Norah Jones CD somewhere. She's good, but I usually end up listening to Nirvana afterwards. Perhaps I didn't get the memo that I needed start listening to sappy music. I just bought an Arcade Fire album and two albums by The Heavy. Do I have to give my "mom card" back to the authorities? Perhaps I should have purchased a John Tesh album. What is it with Johns?

The DVD rack was equally as puzzling. Gifts for mom's included DVD collection of The OC and Gilmore Girls and Four Weddings and Funeral. Well, I like Four Weddings, but I honestly think that's one of Joe's favorite films, not mine. Now if they had Pride and Prejudice, then I wouldn't be so snide in my remarks here. I am a sucker for Jane Austen books and movies. Again, maybe I should remind you that I am a girl. But I also like watching Fight Club. Both are love stories, aren't they?

So, basically American marketers believe mothers want hearts and flowers for Mother's Day. We want Enya CDs or sentimental books about how being a mother is the best thing in the world.

My gift from Joe today? I'm going to see Iron Man 2. I need my Robert Downey, Jr fix.






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That kid has guts!

It's always a proud moment, as a parent, when your kids learn something new from you, not those people called teachers that hang around places called schools. It's at that moment you realize - Yep, that's my kid.

Case in point, Miles asked me recently what guts are. You know... guts. What comes to mind? Something gross, I bet. Being the great mother I am, I told him what they are -- your insides and I pointed to his belly. He giggled like the Pillsbury Doughboy when I poked him in the belly.

From that point on, Miles has been going around pointing to his abdomen and saying, "I have guts!" He's even tried tickling my guts. "Mama! I'm going to tickle your guts!" Or he requests that I tickle his.

So yeah, Miles has guts. Apparently we all do.

Watch out, to those who might see Miles in the near future, he may try to tickle your guts.

That's my boy.




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Miles, no fishing in the house!

What is it with boys and playing sports in the house? Miles is now at that age when he wants to play all sorts of sports -- baseball, basketball, football, etc. You name it, he wants to kick, throw, catch, or hit a ball indoors. If he isn't jumping on the couch or practicing his gymnastic moves by the TV, he's running up and down the small hallway. Before you yell at me for keeping the poor boy cooped up inside, let me remind you that we live in the mountains of Montana. It's been cold and snowy here for the last week (5-8 inches of the white stuff on Thursday). He plays outside, but it's hard playing baseball when it's snowy and windy.

Moving on...Miles' most recent favorite sport is fishing. Is fishing a sport? Maybe extreme fishing is. Whenever fishing is brought up, I'm reminded of Fishing with John a spoof on fishing shows. Funny stuff if you can find the DVDs. I'm not loaning mine out.

Anyway... back to Miles and fishing.

Joe bought Miles a fishing pole. Not just any fishing pole, a Spiderman fishing pole. Really? Spiderman crap is now infiltrating the world of fishing? Seriously? Doesn't Marvel comics make enough money off of merchandise already without having Spidey's mug on a fishing pole?

I digress. I've gotten off topic, once again. Ok. So, Miles has this Spiderman fishing pole that he wants to play with all the time. He needs to practice casting. Alrighty then. Fine. But I don't want him trying to fish for Dexter the Cat. (If Dexter could talk or scream, I wonder what he would say. Get me the f*** out of here! This kid is crazy!)

I guess I wouldn't have a problem with the fishing indoors if Miles was using it to help clean up the messes he makes. I could use some help picking up goldfish crumbs that mysteriously wind up behind the futon. I wonder what kind of bait they like...






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