1) The same site that has the spelling test has some other fun ones too, like How Many Colors Can You Name in Five Minutes? and How Many Countries Can You Name in Five Minutes? and something about how many five year olds you can beat up. Too much fun.
2) Why does almost every frozen diet meal in the universe contain those awful, soggy, yucky red peppers? Just because I'm watching my fat and sugar and carbs intake doesn't mean I want to live on red peppers. Euw.
3) Is anybody else as excited about the economy stimulus package as I am? Well maybe Dan because it gives him the perfect opportunity to say something obscene like, "Hey baby, you can stimulate my package any time." Perv. Of course the credit card company, the life insurance policy, and the water heater payment plan have already spoken up and said they would like that money, thank you very much.
4) My online class officially ends tonight at midnight. The prof gave us two extra days because of problems with the server, but I turned in all my work on Friday because I'm a nerd. Now I'm just waiting for my grades. Then I can send in my transcripts and get my teaching license renewed and be legal again! YAY!
5) We had a parent/teacher conference with Ten's teacher Thursday afternoon and she says he's doing great. I mean, yeah, we knew his grades were great--you can't get much better than straight As--but we wanted to know about his behavior. He's doing fine. Phew. Big sigh of relief.
6) How long can one stomach virus last? Geez. Poor Seven's tummy has been bothering him since February 22nd. Just when we think he's over it, he becomes a candidate for Immodium again. Poor baby. At least he's not throwing up.
7) I have the happiest butt in the middle TN area. I have a wonderful new black microfiber manager chair from Staples. You know, now that my class has ended and I don't have to spend HOURS every night sitting at the computer doing homework. No, now I can spend hours at the computer reading blogs and playing Spider Solitaire. In cozy, plush, padded comfort.
8) Dan and the kids and I have been in the studio all day working on something. I'll attempt to post it here soon. hee hee, I love surprises.
9) After seventeen years of marriage, my husband still doesn't understand my obsession with school/office supplies. I bought myself a pack of ultra-fine point pens in a variety of colors (including a really cool PINK!) at Staples last night. I went to get a pen later and there was one missing from the pack! Dan had taken one out of the pack (the black one, but still!), away from its family, and absconded upstairs with it. I know! Then he had the nerve to wonder why I was upset about it. Can you imagine? He's driven me to using italics! Good thing I hid my Sharpies!
10) I'm proud to say that I've now reset every clock in the house and the one in my car. Am I on the ball or what?
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Friday, March 7, 2008
Color Blind
Seven is color blind. Not in the sense that he can't identify colors, just that he can't differentiate skin color. And I LOVE that about him.
Last month at school his class studied heroes in Black History. Seven did a report about Thurgood Marshall. He learned a lot about Martin Luther King, Jr. and has been talking about him constantly. He told me, "I'm glad Dr. King fought for civil rights because if he didn't do that I probably wouldn't be able to go to school with some of my friends who are black, like..." and he named five kids in his class. Two are African-American, one is white, one is from India, and one is from Laos.
I looked at him and said, "Honey, not all of the kids you listed are black." I talked about each child and what their ethnicity is. He looked at me, very confused, and said, "Well then how can you tell whether someone is black or not?" He'd never heard the term "black" used before in reference to people. He'd describe his friend as, "You know, the boy with the brown skin and black hair."
Seven informed me, "They used to call them 'colored people' and have separate bathrooms and water fountains and everything. I think that's dumb because we're all 'colored people.' See, (pulling his sleeve up and showing me his arm) I'm peach-colored."
Today I ate lunch with him at school and he told me all about Ruby Bridges and how "the judge said there shouldn't be a black school and a white school, but they should all go to the same school so she became the first one to go to an all-white school." He said "peopl
e threatened her just because her skin was darker than her classmates and that marshals had to go to school with her to keep her safe." He said, "Mommy, did you know parents were so dumb that they wouldn't let their kids be in her class because she was black, so she had to be in a class all by herself?"
He told me, "One time her lips were moving and someone asked why she was talking to those mean people. And she said, 'I wasn't talking to them--I was praying for them.' She said that she prayed for them because Jesus prayed for the people who were mean to him so she did too. Mommy, she was a real hero."
I think Seven is a hero too.
Last month at school his class studied heroes in Black History. Seven did a report about Thurgood Marshall. He learned a lot about Martin Luther King, Jr. and has been talking about him constantly. He told me, "I'm glad Dr. King fought for civil rights because if he didn't do that I probably wouldn't be able to go to school with some of my friends who are black, like..." and he named five kids in his class. Two are African-American, one is white, one is from India, and one is from Laos.
I looked at him and said, "Honey, not all of the kids you listed are black." I talked about each child and what their ethnicity is. He looked at me, very confused, and said, "Well then how can you tell whether someone is black or not?" He'd never heard the term "black" used before in reference to people. He'd describe his friend as, "You know, the boy with the brown skin and black hair."
Seven informed me, "They used to call them 'colored people' and have separate bathrooms and water fountains and everything. I think that's dumb because we're all 'colored people.' See, (pulling his sleeve up and showing me his arm) I'm peach-colored."
Today I ate lunch with him at school and he told me all about Ruby Bridges and how "the judge said there shouldn't be a black school and a white school, but they should all go to the same school so she became the first one to go to an all-white school." He said "peopl
e threatened her just because her skin was darker than her classmates and that marshals had to go to school with her to keep her safe." He said, "Mommy, did you know parents were so dumb that they wouldn't let their kids be in her class because she was black, so she had to be in a class all by herself?"He told me, "One time her lips were moving and someone asked why she was talking to those mean people. And she said, 'I wasn't talking to them--I was praying for them.' She said that she prayed for them because Jesus prayed for the people who were mean to him so she did too. Mommy, she was a real hero."
I think Seven is a hero too.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
19th Nervous Breakdown
Oh, so THIS is what an anxiety attack feels like! I can't get my heart to stop racing and I'm a nervous wreck. I'm thinking of taking up heavy drinking for the rest of the weekend.
So tomorrow is the last day of my online class and all three of the big projects are due. TOMORROW! I've finished writing everything but I'm too freaked out to upload it all. I keep reading and rereading my work trying to find ways to improve it. Normally I wouldn't worry so much about it and would just upload it and brush my hands together and go mix a margarita to celebrate being finished, but I just can't relax. Nope, not in my vocabulary.
I am OBSESSED with my grades. Last week my instructor (whom I admire and respect and wanna be when I grow up) took 0.05 off my score (for those of you keeping score at home, that's five-hundredths of a point!) because I didn't cite a reference. Okay, I can respect that. It's a valid reason for a deduction. No big deal--at least it wouldn't be for a sane person. Then, this week, I discovered that she took off 0.1 point (one tenth of a point) without telling me why and I am completely incapable of letting it go. What the heck is wrong with me? Don't answer that. Just pass the tequila.
I've been driving myself crazy, trying desperately to think of what I could've done wrong because all of the prof's comments were positive. If you're taking something off, shouldn't there be a reason for it? I'm semi-okay with the 0.05 reduction because there was a valid reason for it. I'm sure there's a valid reason for the 0.1 reduction too, and it really shouldn't matter AT ALL because I still have an A, but I'm not going to be able to sleep until I know why. Because, yes, I'm just that crazy.
Earlier this week Dan called me over to the couch, mid-meltdown, and said with his arms wide and a smile on his face, "Come over here and let me hug you, my cute little over-achieving nerd girl."
He better be careful. I know where he sleeps. Or at least where he used to sleep. Hope the couch is comfy.
I wasn't always such a perfectionist. Okay, yes, I probably was. Just ask my college roommate. But I didn't get so freaked out about it that my stomach hurt. Or maybe I did and I just don't remember. Or maybe I'm too old to be taking these classes. I did my best work and I should just upload it and be done with it and then go celebrate with a drink, right? Right. That's just what I'll do.
Right after I proofread it one more time....
So tomorrow is the last day of my online class and all three of the big projects are due. TOMORROW! I've finished writing everything but I'm too freaked out to upload it all. I keep reading and rereading my work trying to find ways to improve it. Normally I wouldn't worry so much about it and would just upload it and brush my hands together and go mix a margarita to celebrate being finished, but I just can't relax. Nope, not in my vocabulary.
I am OBSESSED with my grades. Last week my instructor (whom I admire and respect and wanna be when I grow up) took 0.05 off my score (for those of you keeping score at home, that's five-hundredths of a point!) because I didn't cite a reference. Okay, I can respect that. It's a valid reason for a deduction. No big deal--at least it wouldn't be for a sane person. Then, this week, I discovered that she took off 0.1 point (one tenth of a point) without telling me why and I am completely incapable of letting it go. What the heck is wrong with me? Don't answer that. Just pass the tequila.
I've been driving myself crazy, trying desperately to think of what I could've done wrong because all of the prof's comments were positive. If you're taking something off, shouldn't there be a reason for it? I'm semi-okay with the 0.05 reduction because there was a valid reason for it. I'm sure there's a valid reason for the 0.1 reduction too, and it really shouldn't matter AT ALL because I still have an A, but I'm not going to be able to sleep until I know why. Because, yes, I'm just that crazy.
Earlier this week Dan called me over to the couch, mid-meltdown, and said with his arms wide and a smile on his face, "Come over here and let me hug you, my cute little over-achieving nerd girl."
He better be careful. I know where he sleeps. Or at least where he used to sleep. Hope the couch is comfy.
I wasn't always such a perfectionist. Okay, yes, I probably was. Just ask my college roommate. But I didn't get so freaked out about it that my stomach hurt. Or maybe I did and I just don't remember. Or maybe I'm too old to be taking these classes. I did my best work and I should just upload it and be done with it and then go celebrate with a drink, right? Right. That's just what I'll do.
Right after I proofread it one more time....
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Post Target Depression
My SuperTarget finally opened yesterday! Yay! And I totally lifted that picture from Ashley's blog because my picture was way too blurry, since I was DRIVING at the time I took it. :-)
The kids and I went to check it out today after school. They had a hush-hush soft opening because the grand opening is this weekend so it wasn't very busy. In fact, most of the people I ran into there were people I know! I finally used up all the gift cards left from Christmas. Naturally, when I got home there was a $5 off card in my mail! ARGH! Then when I looked at everything we bought there was only one thing for me! A lip gloss. And I don't even like the color now that I have it on. Grumble, grumble. I'm going to have to do better next time. I'm suffering from post Target depression.
I think I was just so excited that my Target finally opened that the reality of shopping there was kind of a let-down. Like when you're a kid and you wait so long for Christmas and then by noon on Christmas Day you're depressed because all the presents are open and now you have to wait a whole year until you can do it again. Only, I don't have to wait a year. I can go there again tomorrow if I want.
In fact, maybe I will.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Trivial (very important) Details
Seven is home sick from school today because he decided that 3:25 AM would be a really great time to throw up in his bed. Then, just for good measure, the hallway and bathroom carpet, and all over his toilet.
***Digression: WHO was the idiot that thought CARPET would be a great idea in all three bathrooms in my house? We ripped out the carpet and tiled the downstairs bathroom a few years ago and I can't wait to do the same upstairs.***
I didn't sleep a lot last night anyway because Dan was working very late at the store. I stayed up 'til midnight, woke again at about 2:00 when he got home and the alarm went off, then again when he finally crawled into bed at 3:00. So imagine my surprise when I heard a little voice right next to my head say, "Mommy, I think something I ate for dinner didn't agree with me because I just threw up." I never even heard him come in.
Dan and I got up and cleaned the carpet and the toilet, tucked Seven in on the couch with an empty trash can, and were on our way back to bed when Seven said in his tiny, I'm sweet and pitiful voice, "Daddy? Will you please sleep with me? I think there's some room here on this couch with me." So, of course Dan did (on the FLOOR next to the couch) because he's a great dad.
I worked a half day today while Dan stayed home with him this morning. Since I got home we've been playing video games. Oh. My. Gosh. I'd forgotten how much fun Super Mario Brothers is! Seven and I are playing along when I made my little Mario dude jump and bust up some bricks to get to a secret coin stash hidden in the wall. Seven said, "Mommy, how did you know that was there?" How, indeed. I haven't played that game in twenty-something years. Some tiny video game segment of my brain has been storing that trivial bit of information all these years. Is that a right-brained or a left-brained thing? I wonder what really important thing I've forgotten because I was using brain space to remember details like that? I paid the credit card bill late because my brain wouldn't let go of that vitally important Mario fact.
It did impress my kid, though, so maybe it was worth the finance charge.
***Digression: WHO was the idiot that thought CARPET would be a great idea in all three bathrooms in my house? We ripped out the carpet and tiled the downstairs bathroom a few years ago and I can't wait to do the same upstairs.***
I didn't sleep a lot last night anyway because Dan was working very late at the store. I stayed up 'til midnight, woke again at about 2:00 when he got home and the alarm went off, then again when he finally crawled into bed at 3:00. So imagine my surprise when I heard a little voice right next to my head say, "Mommy, I think something I ate for dinner didn't agree with me because I just threw up." I never even heard him come in.
Dan and I got up and cleaned the carpet and the toilet, tucked Seven in on the couch with an empty trash can, and were on our way back to bed when Seven said in his tiny, I'm sweet and pitiful voice, "Daddy? Will you please sleep with me? I think there's some room here on this couch with me." So, of course Dan did (on the FLOOR next to the couch) because he's a great dad.
I worked a half day today while Dan stayed home with him this morning. Since I got home we've been playing video games. Oh. My. Gosh. I'd forgotten how much fun Super Mario Brothers is! Seven and I are playing along when I made my little Mario dude jump and bust up some bricks to get to a secret coin stash hidden in the wall. Seven said, "Mommy, how did you know that was there?" How, indeed. I haven't played that game in twenty-something years. Some tiny video game segment of my brain has been storing that trivial bit of information all these years. Is that a right-brained or a left-brained thing? I wonder what really important thing I've forgotten because I was using brain space to remember details like that? I paid the credit card bill late because my brain wouldn't let go of that vitally important Mario fact.
It did impress my kid, though, so maybe it was worth the finance charge.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Grama is DA BOMB
We spent the day at my mom's house yesterday. The boys played outside in the wonderfully mild weather while I chained myself to Mom's computer and did homework. My mom wears so many hats in her role as Grama. Here are just a few jobs she performed yesterday...
Grama as dentist: Seven lost his other front tooth yesterday because my mom yanked it out of his mouth. It was really loose but he couldn't get it out. And he wouldn't let me try to pull it because he said it would hurt. Mom said, "Let Grama try," and he said, "Okay!" because apparently she's WAY more trustworthy than I am. She pulled it out and he said, "That didn't hurt at all." Oh sure, because GRAMA can do anything. Where was Grama at 5:41 AM when I realized that I'd never put any money out from the tooth fairy? I had to crawl out of bed and dig for change in Dan's junk drawer (in the dark!), and then tiptoe in there to make the tooth/coin swap.
Grama as source of all things: I needed a new tank for the froggies because I was overcrowding the little darlings. They're supposed to have one gallon of water PER FROG and I had all six frogs in a little carrier tank that's about 3/4 of a gallon. At one time or another my mom has had approximately 317 fish tanks, so we went up there to scrounge around in the storage building. Sure enough, we found a ten gallon tank with the lid and light attachment. We also found a complete set-up for a hamster, but I'm not telling the boys about that one.
Grama as junk food provider: The boys had Happy Meals and chocolate and Gatorade and juice boxes and everything else a little boy could want at Grama's house. Ten discovered that he hates dark chocolate but Seven loves it. Smart boy, that one.
Grama as nature guide: She took Seven on a nature hunt. She helped Ten and his cousin make a teepee. She took the boys all through the woods and showed them how to identify deer tracks and even found some deer poop which they thought was awesome.
Grama as all-around cool person: She bought the boys a video game thing with about 7,600 games on it (and I really don't think that's an exaggeration). Seven is obsessed with it. We're going to have to find him a 12-step program for video game addicts. She gave me a frog pillow/foot rest/massager thingy to keep my feet toasty when I'm at the computer. She gave me a hand-me-down jacket from my 13-year-old nephew that is really cool. She played with my kids so I could get my homework done.
In short, Grama rocks.
Grama as dentist: Seven lost his other front tooth yesterday because my mom yanked it out of his mouth. It was really loose but he couldn't get it out. And he wouldn't let me try to pull it because he said it would hurt. Mom said, "Let Grama try," and he said, "Okay!" because apparently she's WAY more trustworthy than I am. She pulled it out and he said, "That didn't hurt at all." Oh sure, because GRAMA can do anything. Where was Grama at 5:41 AM when I realized that I'd never put any money out from the tooth fairy? I had to crawl out of bed and dig for change in Dan's junk drawer (in the dark!), and then tiptoe in there to make the tooth/coin swap.
Grama as source of all things: I needed a new tank for the froggies because I was overcrowding the little darlings. They're supposed to have one gallon of water PER FROG and I had all six frogs in a little carrier tank that's about 3/4 of a gallon. At one time or another my mom has had approximately 317 fish tanks, so we went up there to scrounge around in the storage building. Sure enough, we found a ten gallon tank with the lid and light attachment. We also found a complete set-up for a hamster, but I'm not telling the boys about that one.
Grama as junk food provider: The boys had Happy Meals and chocolate and Gatorade and juice boxes and everything else a little boy could want at Grama's house. Ten discovered that he hates dark chocolate but Seven loves it. Smart boy, that one.
Grama as nature guide: She took Seven on a nature hunt. She helped Ten and his cousin make a teepee. She took the boys all through the woods and showed them how to identify deer tracks and even found some deer poop which they thought was awesome.
Grama as all-around cool person: She bought the boys a video game thing with about 7,600 games on it (and I really don't think that's an exaggeration). Seven is obsessed with it. We're going to have to find him a 12-step program for video game addicts. She gave me a frog pillow/foot rest/massager thingy to keep my feet toasty when I'm at the computer. She gave me a hand-me-down jacket from my 13-year-old nephew that is really cool. She played with my kids so I could get my homework done.
In short, Grama rocks.
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