Play Like a Champion Today

Hello there, my Internet friends.  How have you been?

I've been writing blog posts in my head for almost a week now.  Which, doesn't really help YOU much, as you cannot visit the inside of my head and read them.  And now that I come to think of it, you should be thankful you cannot visit the inside of my head, because IT'S MESSY IN THERE. 

Today was our first "home day" of the year.  My kid goes to Regular School with Regular Kids doing Regular Things on Mondays and Wednesday's.  On Tuesday and Thursday he's home with me doing a pseudo-homeschooling thing.  It's an extraordinary school, based on an extraordinary idea, and I'm so grateful to be a *part* of my kids education, without actually having to do it all. 

So I'm grateful, yes, but I'm also daunted.  I'm working now, and my role at my job has expanded to include marketing which means MORE hours and MORE responsibility.  Yay! And also WHOA!  Because I find myself trying to homeschool AND work and maintain some semblance of household order (the laundry! SAVE ME FROM THE LAUNDRY!). 

Oh, and I'm also the homeroom mom.  I KNOW! What is wrong with me?

But you know what?  I'm totally doing it!  Not perfectly.  Sometimes not even well.  But I'm doing it.  So far, I've managed NOT to get fired, and all indications are that my kids are happy and they still like me.  So, um, GO ME!

Sometimes, I just wish that - at the end of the day - I could run down a tunnel and give everybody a high-five.  You know how they do at the beginning of a football game?  Where the players run out onto the field to roars of applause?  That.  I want to do THAT at the end of a day like today.  I need a line of high-fivers and some applause.

Someone get me a tunnel. 

Wait a 2nd!

Will started second grade on Wednesday.   I was surprisingly nonchalant about it.  This is the first year I've felt just fine about the passage of time and my kid getting older.  No wistful notions of his childhood slipping through my fingers.

Tralala.

And then I made the mistake of sending this photo to my mother:

1st day of 2nd grade

She called me when she received it.  Shenexclaimed "His head is almost up to your shoulder!".  And then she cried. 

WHAT?  I looked again and sure enough.  His head is almost at my shoulder.

MAH BAYBEE!!

Someone get me a tissue. *sob*

Runners are STILL Stupid and Dumb

"oh what a beautiful mooooooorning"

Ok, listen, I wrote a while back about how I thought runners were stupid and dumb.  WHICH THEY ARE.  Why would you intentionally RUN and SWEAT and GET OFF THE COUCH if you didn't have to? 

And yet.

I started running right after my birthday in July.  Then Susan somehow (through voodoo magic, I think) talked me into running IN A RACE at the end of September.  Which was EVIL and also brilliant because now I can't QUIT, because then I would look STUPID at the race.

Well played, Susan.  Well played.

And here's what's happened: Sometimes? (just sometimes, mind you) I actually LOOK FORWARD to my run. Which is UTTERLY INSANE.  Because I have to 1) set my alarm and get out of my warm ,soft bed 2) wear clothes that make me look dumb 3) sweat and 4) ache for the rest of the day.  Why would I look forward to that?  WHY?

I have no answer.  No idea.

I *do* enjoy seeing the sunrise.  That's nice.  But I could do *that* while sitting on my patio drinking my coffee.  Under a blanket.  With my feet up. 

And I really love seeing all of the little animals in my neighborhood.  We live on a golf course, so there are zillions of bunnies, and ducks, and I saw a fox once.  But honestly, I could google "bunnies/foxes/ducks" and get all the youtube videos I could stand FROM MY BED.

So what I'm trying to say is: I have, PURELY BY ACCIDENT, started to SOMETIMES enjoy running.  And I don't know why.

What's happening to me? Help!

Behold! The LAMINATOR!

My boy goes to a weird school.  One that only meets on Mondays and Wednesdays.  The other days he's home with me doing assignments.  I don't "teach" so much as I "encourage" (some would call it "nag", others would say "threaten-with-bodily-harm". Ahem.).  Part of doing school this way involves using flashcards.  Lots and lots of flashcards.  And the school gently suggests that these cards be laminated.  And all this laminating must be done before school begins.

No problem!  I know my way to Kinkos.  I can laminate with the best of 'um!

Except that, did you know that laminating is outrageously expensive?  Like, I could have covered these flashcards IN ACTUAL GOLD and spent less money.

So after last year (where I sold a kidney to pay for laminating), I decided to wise-up and BUY MY VERY OWN LAMINATOR.  Yes.  You heard me.  I own a laminator.  What's next?  My own cotton-gin? Perhaps my own butter churn?

But Hey! Need a fake ID?  I'm your girl! (Most of my friends would be faking an ID to make themselves YOUNGER).

I figure, at this rate, I'm only a few steps away from those homeschooling moms who wear floor-length denim jumpers!  Move over Duggers, there's a new mom in town!

(What? You KNOW Michelle Duggar TOTALLY has her own laminator.)

A Backpack Can Break Your Heart.

he holds her hand in the parking lot.  could you not die?

Yesterday Paige started back to Mother's Day Out.  She's been going only on Monday's during the Summer months, but the facility takes a 2 week break at the beginning of every August (presumably so that the teachers can talk to other adults, sleep, and drink lots of alcohol).  So, we've had a LOT of togetherness at my house for the last two weeks what with NO CHILDCARE and all. (Yeesh).

When we arrived at Paige's "school" that morning, we were greeted with the usual pandemonium that accompanies the first day - weepy toddlers being consoled by cheerful teachers, and raucous kids exploring their new classrooms full of toys.  Paige's teacher (the same one we've had for months) saw us coming down the hall and declared that Paige had been moved up to Miss Kelly's class.

Miss Kelly?

Wait.  That can't be right.  Miss Kelly is the teacher for big kids.  She's the last teacher you get at Mother's Day Out.  After Miss Kelly, you're DONE.  Out.  Your kid is big enough for "real school". 

Oh my goodness.  PAIGE IS A BIG KID.  I have no idea how this happened.

When I came back at the end of the day, Paige was overjoyed about her new classroom... which is set up much more school-like.  With desks and chairs and real-live learning-type activities.   She squealed when she saw me and exclaimed "I HAVE TO HAVE A BACKPACK MISS KELLY SAYS SO!".  She also requires Big Kid School Supplies (no juice and Goldfish crackers? Wha?).

So we went straight to Target and picked out a Big Kid Backpack (and a matching folder for her "work").  When she spied the one she wanted, Paige pulled it off the rack, put it on her back, and wore it for the remainder of the time we were shopping. 

Then she wore it to the car.

Then she wore it around the house.

Then she put it on to show Susan (who came over specifically to see The Backpack - God bless her.).

Most days my kids grow up right in front of me and I don't notice.  A million tiny steps away from me and toward adulthood.  Today felt like a leap.  All because of a purple backpack.

A Horse of a Different Color

I took the kids to the zoo last week.  My momma bought us a year-long zoo pass, which means we can visit anytime we want for FREE!  Woot!

We saw the usual things.  The shiny pygmy hippo with his bristly tail.  The lions - who also gaze at my children like they would make a delicious mid-morning snack.

And then we usually visit the birds.  Little tropical birds who land on your arms and head and twitter madly.  It's lovely.

Until they bite the HECK out of you, making you BLEED. 

Then you want to wring all those birdies necks and roast them up with a nice garlic sauce.

Stupid birds.

But the best thing we saw at the zoo? 

The dude cleaning the inside of the gigantic fish tank.

Bullseye in the Dark

Last week I visited Target.  Which is what I do every week.  Sometimes more than once per week.  In fact, I think my car knows the way to Target all on its own.  I bet if I started my car and walked away, I would come back to find it missing.  It would have driven itself to Target. 

Where was I?  Oh right.  Last week. 

So last week I arrived at Target to find the interior DARKENED in the middle of the day!  Like, almost totally dark, save for a few emergency lights.  And yet, the doors were unlocked.  A hand-written sign near the entrance said that the store had lost power, BUT NO WORRIES, because the registers were still working (on a battery backup, I suppose).  So?  SHOP AWAY TARGET SHOPPERS, shop yourselves silly IN THE DARK.

So guess what I did?

I TOTALLY SHOPPED IN THE DARK!  What?  I had A LIST.  My car had already driven me there!  Plus?  Do you have any IDEA how much energy it takes to get myself AND two unwilling children out the door? 

I wasn't going home empty handed.

It turns out shopping in the dark is sort of fun in a we-might-die-here-or-in-the-very-least-stub-our-toe sort of way.

I called Susan when I got home to tell her of my Dark Target Adventure, and she told me she'd ALSO stopped at Target, but had turned to go home "because I couldn't buy ice cream and chocolate milk, so what was the point?".  Turns out Target will not allow any refrigerated items to be sold during a power loss for fear of spoilage.  Poor Susan.  She totally missed all the fun.

Or maybe I need to get a life.

My What Big *Pockets* You Have

Last night Paige and I went to the local mall to purchase, of all things, a cookie.  My nephew's birthday is coming up, and he wanted nothing more than one of those Great American Cookie Company cookies.  And being an obliging auntie, I got him one. 

We parked outside a big department store, and Paige asked if we could stop and look at "the pretty things" on our way out.  She ooooh'd and aaaaahhh'd at the jewelry and held up various (and hideous) articles of clothing while exclaiming "momma, you NEED this!". 

Gosh she's cute.

In the midst of all of Paige's declarations, I stopped to examine a blouse.  Then a watch.  I wasn't really paying attention to my little 4-year-old stylist.  Which is why I wasn't immediatley alarmed when she yelled "let's go look at the purses!".  I glanced up just in time to see her standing near a rack of NOT PURSES.  They were gigantic BRAZIERS.

And do you know what she said?  "Momma, where are the zippers?".

Poor baby.  She's used to seeing her momma's bras.  Which have, ahem, significantly less storage capacity than the "purses" she was eyeing.

The Perfect Gift for an 8 Year Old Boy

Look, if your boy is anything like mine, gift-giving becomes progressively harder with each Birthday.  Gone are the days when a multi-colored train is sufficient.  Now, it seems that if the gift does not require batteries or a power switch, it's simply not worth giving.

Well, except for Legos.

For the past few years William has been (as all boys are, it seems) obsessed with Legos.  At first, he was interested ONLY in the finished product.  Which meant that daddy was intimately involved in the building process.  But as the years have gone by, William has gotten more and more interested in the construction.  Nowadays, there is nothing he loves more than a "complicated build" involving hours (sometimes days) of careful step-by-step direction following. 

But here's the rub: Legos - especially the ones that are considered a "complicated build" - are SO EXPENSIVE.  A moderately priced set can cost $50, and most are much more than THAT. 

Which is why I was THRILLED when William received Snap Circuits, Jr. in the mail from his Uncle Bradley:

Snap Circuits, Jr.

It's a set of circuits and switches that, when assembled correctly, can produce all sorts of fun things.  One assembly makes a fan whir.  Another makes a bell whistle.  Some switches control a series of lights.  All of these things require a "complicated build", and in order to move on to the next project, you have to carefully disassemble and start over. 

It's much like Legos in that it requires patent, careful direction following, but without a zillion little pieces. (Anyone who has stepped on a Lego in the middle of the night will understand my glee).

And the best part? This set costs less than $30.  Wahoo!

Do you have boys?  What are some of his favorite gifts?  Please share.  Christmas will be here before we know it.  Ack!


ps: Snap Circuits and Amazon are not paying me to say any of this.  Can't a girl just LIKE something on the Internet without getting paid? Huh?

Bird is the Word

Remember last week when I told you about the hawk that FLEW INTO THE POOL?

Yeah.  *That* was weird.

And, obviously a once-in-a-lifetime thing.  I mean, a hawk flies into the pool, and then voluntarily lets my mother hold it for several minutes?  Crazy.  That never happens.

Which is why I gasped and clutched my pearls when I saw THIS on Facebook the very next day:

my mind is blown.

Here's the freaky part: this dude?  Who posted this to Facebook? LIVES EIGHTY MILES FROM MY MOTHER.

Would someone please explain this to me?  Is this the Apocalypse?

Or perhaps this particular breed of bird is, um, thirsty? Longing to swim?  In need of human companionship?

I'm out of ideas.



**According to this dude's Facebook stream, that bird (which is identical to the bird my mother rescued) is not actually a hawk.  It's something called a Mississippi Kite.  And this concludes the Random Bird Fact portion of the day.  The End.

Not a Chicken Hawk

Oh my goodness, the most INCREDIBLE thing happened today!

We were swimming at my mom's house.  There were 5 adults and 3 kids in the pool.  Out of nowhere, a HAWK landed five feet away from the edge of the pool.  And then it just stood there.  Staring at all of us.  And we, being agog at this intrusion from a WILD ANIMAL, stared right back.

And he just kept standing there.  Staring at us.  5 minutes passed.  Then 10. 

After a while, we started to think something was wrong with him (or her.  I didn't check for fear of having my eyes pecked out).  Perhaps he was injured?  Or else ill?  Or maybe just starving, or thirsty (the heat in Oklahoma as been record-breaking).  And then someone suggested that this hawk was small.  And sort of fuzzy.  Hey!  It was a baby!  Perhaps just recently from its nest!  And, God bless him, his maiden voyage took him within inches of HUMANS.  Surely his hawk-mother told him to stay away from HUMANS! (Children, they never listen.)

And this hawk didn't seem the least bit scared. 

After a while the children resumed splashing and carrying on, and the hawk didn't seem bothered.  He just watched us.

Until.

He up and FLEW INTO THE POOL!  Well, sort of.  He flew near my mother, landed on the edge of the pool, lost his footing, and fell in. 

So my mother, being a mother, swam over and carefully picked him up and sat him back on dry land.  Except, instead of flying away, he just stood there, latched on to mom's hand.  He stood there for a good 2 minutes just staring at her.  IT. WAS. UNBELIEVABLE.  I don't think any of us breathed.

And then, just like that, he flew away.

sorry.  crummy iphone pics.  WHERE is my good camera when I need it?

We were all agog.  Mother claimed she was the "bird whisperer".  I reasoned that the bird flew toward my mother because it was missing its OWN mother.

Dave, however, said it was most-likely attracted to the person with the ugliest hat.


I told him he'd better shut-up or he wouldn't be invited to Thanksgiving.


ps - yes, we have a video!

I'm Totally Too Old for This

One day, maybe as much as a year ago, I was wandering through The Walmarts when I happened upon the craft aisle.  There I discovered, for only $3.50, a box full of all the supplies for making friendship bracelets.  On a whim, I bought it.

And then it sat on a shelf in my pantry for MONTHS.  Because? Who has time for such things?  Certainly not me.

But then, when I was packing for our trip to the lake a few weeks ago, I threw the box into my luggage on the off-chance that I'd have some down time in which to dedicate to my "craft".

However, I learned quickly that the promised "easy" instructions were beyond me.  But an Internet search and a few youtube.com videos set me straight.

.

Before the end of the weekend, everyone in our group was sporting a new bracelet.  And I even snookered my sister-in-law into crafting with me.

The problem is that, now, weeks later, I'm still addicted to making these stupid things.  Which means I'm going to need to make a LOT more friends.

If You Can't Stand The Heat, Blog About It

Look, I realize that I live in Oklahoma.  And living in Oklahoma means that the month of August is going to be hot.  That's just how it is in Oklahoma.  Why complain?  It is what it is, right?

But this?  This heat we're experiencing?  Yeah.  It's beyond hot.  "Hot" and "Heat" don't cut it for a day like today. We need to invent a new word for it.  "Searing" doesn't seem bold enough.  Something like "devilwharf" or "sizzlesnoot" or "dragonbritches".  The heat here beckons an entirely new vocabulary. 

And in that vein, we also need a word that represents the emotional toll this Sizzlesnoot (I like that one best I think) takes on us.  Something like "hotsanity", and "hellicious".  Because, y'all? I'm starting to feel both angry (at the AIR, because THAT'S productive), and crazy. 

Today the actual air temperature (not the heat index, mind you) was 112 degrees. 

Let's pause here while you re-read that up there.  I said ONE HUNDRED AND TWELVE ACTUAL DEGREES OF SIZZLESNOOTS.

My air conditioner has been running non-stop for ten straight days.  Non-stop.  All day.  All night.  It runs and runs and runs.  I worry about it.  How much more can it take before it waves a little white flag and surrenders?  And then what will I do?  I will die.  That's what.  I will burst into flames and die. 

And this concludes my Rant Against Nature. 

The End.

Ok, I'm not *quite* done with my rant.  Because, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THIS?  It's 9:30pm and it's STILL 100 degrees outside. 

Save me!

But It Comes In So Handy!

Today, I attended a business meeting.  Which is, honestly, sort of hilarious since - up until a few months ago - I was spending my days wiping bottoms.  Me? At a "business meeting"? HAHAHA!

After the meeting, one of my co-workers (who was in from out-of-town to attend the meeting) asked for a ride to the airport.  "No problem!", I said.  "The airport is on my way home!" And I began to help her with her luggage. 

Oh gosh, y'all, then I  opened my hatchback and there it was: Paige's POTTY.

WHAT KIND OF BUSINESS WOMAN DRIVES AROUND WITH A TOILET IN HER CAR?!?

Me.  That's who.  Rita Ortloff, Potty-Toting Executive Extraordinaire.

*sigh*