Random Thoughts

When I was in sixth grade, I threw up on Miss Poder. Right on her. Didn't feel bad about it, either.

Today, one of my students threw up all over... my doorway. Can't get in or out of the room without squelches, though they did throw cat litter on it. I guess that's a saving grace, since there's supposed to be some major water balloon fights up here today. Maybe they'll leave my wing alone.

Right.

Sixteen more days.

~~~~~

My clothes are mostly pre-Moth, who just turned 7 Saturday. I decided I needed some new shirts. I've avoided buying shirts for a few years because I have a huge gut. Muffin Top Is Me. Shirts in the last five years have been belly shirts or high waist shirts. Lo and behold, the new shirt length is mid-hip. Yipee! I bought four! (ugly colors, but at least they're long!)

And WHY didn't the sixties/seventies crap stay back there? Polyester and puke colors are gross, no matter what the presentation. Sheesh.

~~~~~

Stinky has become quite the mumbler. Whenever he disagrees with mom or dad, he starts muttering under his breath. Yesterday, he bought a combination lock, and he couldn't figure out how to get it to work. I was trying to help him and he took this "I just can't do it!" position. I said "Well, you're going to."

After a little bit, I gave an instruction and he talked back.

I smacked him.

His eyes teared up. His jaw firmed. But no talking back.

Three minutes later, he's mumbling something, and I said, "Just shut up and do it!" He muttered, "you shut up!"

I flipped him over and paddled him.

I have all assurances that he hates me and will hate me the rest of his life. I don't give a rat's patootie. If he shuts up, it's worth it.

~~~~~

Moth man did not get a lot of presents for his birthday. A big part was a new bike that he keeps leaving out in the rain. He was warned if he didn't take care of his toys, he wouldn't be getting any more.

Granny and Poppy got him two lego sets. I built him the first one with him, showing him how to keep the pieces in the right piles and how to follow the directions. It was, of course, a pain in the ass. I told him to take care of it, because I wasn't fixing it. Less than one day later, he smashed it. Tears. Recriminations. Yet I was not moved. I built it once, and you broke it in less than 12 hours.

I told him I would not build the second one. He asked if he could. I said, why, sure! So he took it up to his bed, promptly lost half the pieces, and came crying to me. I shrugged. Sorry, kid, not helping you.

He got a speedometer for his bike and messed with it til it broke the first afternoon he had it.

He got a whoopee cushion from his Aunt and Uncle (thanks for that) that he blew up til it popped, even though he'd been warned a lot to be careful.

Please note that every present, except for the bike, was destroyed within 24 hours of Moth ownership.

Moths are destructive.

I guess the name is appropriate.

~~~~~

Well, that's the news. The boys are all getting anxious for their camping trip away from Mom. It should be interesting. I get the dogs by myself for 10 days. Poor Titus and Loki. You know, the last time John took the boys overnight, it was for some Cub Scout thing. He called me from some big battleship and asked for some other parents number. "Why are you asking me?" I pondered aloud. "JUST FIND IT" he replied, paniced.

John does not panic.

"What's wrong?" I asked

"I can't find Sean. I think he's with this other parent."

"What Happened??!!??"

"Well, I lost Tim this morning, and Sean went off to find him. Now I can't find Sean."

If he calls me from the OkeeFenokee swamp - or whatever that is - asking for the number for the Ranger station, I'm gonna slip exlax powder in his fiber shakes.

~~~~~

One final surreal note... the Metro - a free paper available in most major cities - had a really strange letters to the editor section today/ (That's on the same page as sudoku and crosswords.)
Every single letter was pro-conservative. I can't figure out if they're trying to get their readers angry or if they're just trying to highlight what they consider "freaks" (they're MSM, no way are there conservatives on that staff). It was downright weird.


Later, gators!
(*)>

So, what do I do...

When we last saw our heroes, Mothman was in Big Deep Trouble. He was doing bad things in school and out. He was smokin in the boys room and sportin tats. Well, maybe not that bad, but the first grade equivalent.

In the last 3 weeks, he has had a sea-change. He gets stickers every day in school. His teacher has written a note saying that he is, once again, the best in class, doing all his work and helping others' do theirs.

Thing is, back when he got punished for being bad, he had 2 things taken away. The first was a birthday party. When he missed that, he wrote himself a poster "How to be good in school". He looks at it every morning, just to remind himself.

Now, he's excellent again, and he asked if he could earn back the second thing he got taken away - namely, the boyscouts white water rafting trip.

What should I do?

(*)>

The Toothbrush Incident

Our boys. They fight. And fight. And Fight.

If they are in the same room, they fight.

If they are in different rooms, they fight.

We were visiting John's relatives on the weekend. We sent the boys to brush their teeth for bed. At the same time.

Mistake.

Apparently, Stinky took this opportunity to drop off a load, Stinkying up the bathroom for Moth while he was brushing his teeth.

This got Moth all a-flutter.

Words were spoken. Insults exchanged. Fisticuffs couldn't be managed, as Stinky was taking a dump. But Moth hurled a weapon at Stinky - Moth's toothbrush.

It landed in the polluted toilet.

I made him remove it with his hand. I told him, after I got him to do it (man, can that boy scream!) that it would all wash off his hands. We washed his hands three times, while I told him of when I worked in the bookstore and had to scrub feces off the wall - some crazy dude had written in his own poop.

Somehow, my misery made Tim feel all better.

Do they ever stop fighting?

(*)>

Banner Night For Timothy

Timothy is in trouble.

The night before last, he scratched a car with a stick he was porting while riding his bike. After apologies (no bills, the neighbor is cool), the verdict was issued. No wheels for a week.

By the time he got to go out to play last night (after wrangling with homework and a super-dug-in tick), Moth-man had been reminded by me, alone, at least twice. "No bike. No scooter."

Then, Stinky comes in about 20 minutes after they go out. "Tim was riding Dylan's bike and he scratched another car." (yeah, yeah, he's a snitch).

Well, that was it. Tim was in for the night - no supper. Luckily, this was a rubber on paint thing. But boy, was tim crying. ("But I didn't ride my bike! I rode Dylan's bike!" believe me, he understands wheels is wheels now!)

As I was coming back from apologizing to the neighbor I'd never met before (nice intro, eh?), I see all these kids carrying these cushions and an old shelf. "These are Timmy's" they loudly proclaimed.

"Um, no, they're not." I denied.

"From his fort!" they demanded.

"He doesn't have a fort" OK now I'm worried. Did he steal these cushions? No, he rescued them from the garbage, they maintained.

"Well, he can't have them." Cool - one of the other kids will take them!! (Dylan, of bike fame!)

Later - back at the hall of justice - the phone rings. Another neighbor I've never met. "Is this Timothy's mother? My name is Ellen Sheffler. Your kid made a fort on my yard. I called the police."

"Ma'am, I'm sorry..."

"I can't be having this garbage on my yard. It needs to be cleaned up now!"

"Ma'am, I saw the kids bringing the cushions..."

"You will clean up this garbage now."

Crotchety old bat.

So, I drag Tim down, yelling at him the whole way about private property and never stepping foot on other people's property. We get there and... no cushions. No junk. I walked back her huge driveway (she's on the rich side of the hood). She came out and confirmed. "Well, they must have just taken them."

"Ma'am, my son has been on his bed for the last 2 hours for punishment. If you had listened to me, they took these cushions away when you asked."

"Well, I thought..."

"Ma'am, I'm going home. Have a nice day." Bitch.

Call the fuzz on my little boy? You old cow. I hope you end up in a nursing home with some person who got treated like you just treated my Timmy responsible for making sure your butt gets wiped. Cause it won't. Then you'll know what a pain in the butt really is.

(By the by, Ellen Sheffler is not her real name. I just picked a name that... seemed to fit.)

Kids. People talk about the worry... but they never talk about the embarrassment.

(*)>

A Tale Of Two Bikes

Our kids are big galoots. Stinky is just about my height, and Mothman isna far behind.

Of course, Tim would say that he's just as big as Sean. And Sean would say that Tim wasn't even close. But that's the way - has been ever since Cain and Able, right?

A few years ago, Sean learned to ride a big boy bike. It took almost 2 months, the second summer of trying, before it took. But once he got it... well, we haven't seen him since, if the weather is nice.

At the time, Tim had his little boy bike. He insisted that Dad take off the training wheels (he was 5, I think), and he rode in the back yard until he didn't fall anymore. Took him less than a week.

Fast forward. Tim's still on his "little boy" bike - and he resembles the bear at the circus (sorry, stealing image, as I can't do pictures at work...). He also crashes a lot because the bike is just too small.

Time for a new bike.

We got it from Amazon - and it came on Saturday, while Dad was working on a mongo paper for his grade three class in boringology. Dad tried to put it together on Sunday. There was a constant stream of neighborhood boys - "Look at my new bike!!" and a constant stream of creative foul language from Dad - there was a problem. The brake was faulty. And that kid needs all the safety equimpent he can get. So we had to send it back.

Heartbreak city.

The kids had yesterday off - so Dad trouped them off to Richard's sporting goods. They were OUT OF BIKES. Heartbreak part 2! But then, lo and behold, Tarjay had one. It's the Magma - Impersonater. What a dumb name for a bike. What, does it melt on command? Anyhow. There'll be pictures when I get home and can upload them.

After an hour of searching for the lost helmet (heartbreak 3! The revenge of entropy!), Mothy was off, not to be seen unless there was a new trick he had mastered (can ride without hands, can wheelie...)

Spring is here!

(*)>

It's Spring!

It's spring and all of the dirty birds are fluttering about the dusty aviary. The new news in town - our neighbor has moved out and her house is being sold.

Stinky and the Moth are quite into who will be moving in, and if they meet the Lee Circle requirements - at least one male progeny under the age of 12.

Last Saturday, Stinky walked into the house, steam pouring out of his ears.

"Mom. These girls. They were in OUR fort! They said they were buying the house and they were going to take our fort and CLEAN IT AND MAKE IT PRETTY!"

The horrors!

I tried to calm him down, but then the Moth joined in the fray. It would be the end of Kids' Creek as we know it (sob!)

~~~~~

It doesn't help that the girl across the street has decided to openly pick on Sean at school. It's not hard. He is like me - easily roused.

She accused him of spying on her. She brought this up every day, just to get his goat. Then, when he stopped defending himself, she added a new twist. He, apparently, likes to look at her NAKED!

This got Moral Majority Stinky in action mode. He went to the GUIDANCE counselor! He complained to Mom and Dad! This Evil Girl Must Be Stopped! I merely looked at him and said "say something like "I wouldn't spy on you, I don't like to throw up!"" He looked at me, then smiled.

We haven't heard about the spying stuff since then. AND we haven't gotten a call from the guidance counselors. Wins all around.

~~

To finish off the week, the girls' parents did not put a bid on the house. But another set of parents supposedly did. They have 2 boys. One is 9 and one is 6. Pray for the adults on this block. We need all the help we can get.

(*)>

Gourmet Canines?

So, I was up early watching teevee - the shows I like tend to be kid unfriendly, and I can't watch when they're awake. So, watching Medium, there's a commercial for dog food.

This guy is like, "Here, Ramses, come pick which food you want! Choices! Choices!"

The camera pans to choices and choices of gourmet dogfoods.



My dogs will eat turds if you let them. My dogs will eat dirty socks if you let them. Somehow, I don't think gourmet is something they need.

I don't think my dogs are that much different than the rest of the worlds dogs.

What the dump makes people think their dogs need gourmet food? I just don't get it.

(*)>

Teaching the Right Stuff

One thing I really like about the after school program at my kids' school is that they hire both males and females of college age to play with the kids. The boys have guys to look up to - and they totally groove on that. All those boy activities, like Dodge Ball and Capture The Flag are played by boys and girls with enthusiasm.

One of the gents they hired this year is a long-haired hippie freak. He brings his guitar and plays songs for the kids - he's really neat.

One day, he put down his guitar and the other guy, we'll say he's a typical philly guy picked it up. He started playing the intro riff to Metallica's Enter Sandman. I was like "hey, teach 'em good music young!" We both started laughing.

Then one of the kids - not one of mine - started singing "hush little baby don't say a word, and never mind that noise you heard..."

That's a little scary. A second grade Metallica fan. I thought I was bad letting my kids listen to Crazy Train and School's Out.

If any of the kids show up with tats, I'm going to start looking into private schools.

(*)>

Precosious Mothy

For his birthday, Stinky got Gilligan's Island - second season. John is of the belief that it is perfect third grade humor. The boys ADORE it. WHAtever.

So, at the table last night, I asked Sean, "who's your favorite character?".

"Gilligan." No hesitation. Tim agreed, "he's the funniest."

I then asked, "Who do you like better, Marianne or Ginger?" Again, without hesitation, Sean says "Marianne."

Tim agreed, "Yeah, I'd do her."

I did not mis-type. Now, I think he meant, he'd choose her in a contest. But... maybe not???

Sigh, they grow up so fast!

(*)>

Words A Mother Never Wants To Hear

Heard from the bathroom by Mom (in the kitchen washing dishes)

(dad to mothy or stinky, not sure which)



"DO NOT TRY TO PEE AND BRUSH YOUR TEETH AT THE SAME TIME!"

Ahh, kids.

(*)>

Boys Will Be Boys

Summer is drawing to a close, once again. The cicadas are louder than bombs here in PA and you can smell the bus fumes and new shoes just around the corner.

We spent this morning hiking around Ridley Creek State Park. The temp and humidity have dropped, so it was quite fun. I'm not a bug fan, but I deal because the boys tend to have a pretty good time.





Then the boys got really hot, though, as our walk was ending. So they went tribal, and I told them that soldiers sometimes wrap their shirts around their heads. So they did.




Unprovoked, Stinky takes a pretend gun (he always has one handy) and starts shooting at planes. "I'm dressed like a terrorist so I should shoot down planes" he says, with a bad accent. Where do they get this stuff? I'm fairly certain John and I haven't planted this one in his brain, though he's always listening and regurgitating things we never expected him to hear...

Fun in the sun is almost done, but we still have a few days left. I'm going to enjoy it as much as possible!

(*)>

EAGLES = EVIL

I am a rarity: a Philadelphian who hates the Eagles. It all started when I lived in south philly and was a cowboys fan. That year was also the year that an Eagles fan peed on a cowboys fan IN THE STANDS and beat up a little kid who was sporting the colors of another opposing team.

Eagles fans, I have found, are a rude, awful bunch. They boo santa and cheer when a player breaks his neck. Anything that makes them sad makes me happy. I am still not a football fan, but I cheer for any team that plays the eagles.

Up until yesterday, every male homo sapiens in my house was a big time eagles fan. Then this headline interrupted the Phillies game last night.

A few months ago, not sure if I posted about this or not, Stinky (big animal kid) and I watched a National Geographic special about the dogs that were rescued from Michael Vick's property after the dog-fighting scandal. There were dogs that had their teeth all pulled out so they could be forcibly bred. There were dogs that were trained to be bait to build up other dogs' confidence. It was horrific. It stuck with Sean big time.

Now, the iggles have hired michael vick to be their new qb. When they announced it, Sean looks at me and says, "Isn't that the guy who hurt all those dogs?" I answered that it was. He said, "I'm with mom now. I hate the Eagles. I'm routing for the Ravens." (that's Poppy's team, and their players have their own issues, I know, but none involve animals, right?)

Then he stopped and thought and said, "And I'm gonna route for the cowboys. Because the Eagles hate the Cowboys."

I love that kid.

(*)>

The Art of the Mix Tape

You know, there are so many movies and tv shows that make fun of us nerds who make mix cd's - nick and nora's infinite playlist is the most recent. But I know it's a casual throwaway to point out that a boy/girl is a stalker-dweeb. It's so wrong.

Mix tapes are awesome and show a real attention to detail that most people just don't get.

I make mix tapes for my favorite beaus - my boys. I make one every summer, which is a blend of summer songs and kids songs they like at the time.

This year, I made an additional one for each of them. There's the camping cd for sean, which has camping songs, mosquito songs, fishing songs, and country/cowboy songs.
Campfire Song Song - Spongebob Squarepants (last year's kid hit!)
Mosquito - Artichoke (if you haven't heard this, it's really cool)
I'm Going Fishing - Bert Susanka
Camping Trip - Tracey Singer (modern hello muddah, I think.)
Mosquito - Brian Kinder
Going Bass Fishing - Anna Moo
Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah - Allan Sherman
It's My Lazy Day - Bob Wills & His Texas Playboys (mom? I can hear you sing this)
Black Water - The Doobie Brothers (this reminds me of friends from college)
Mother Nature's Son - The Beatles (every mix I make has the beatles on it. It's a rule.)
The Battle of New Orleans - Johnny Horton (and here we start with sean's cammo fixation)
The Ballad of Davy Crockett - Fess Parker
Daniel Boone - Alleyoop
(Ghost) Riders In The Sky - Johnny Cash (why? well, I ran out of ideas!)
Don't Fence Me In - Gene Autry
Mountain Music - Alabama
Summer Breeze - Seals & Crofts (again, I ran out of ideas! but you do camp in summer?)

Mothy's cd is a cruising cd - all songs about cars/trucks.
Drive My Car - The Beatles
Drivin' My Life Away - Eddie Rabbitt
18 Wheels On a Big Rig - Trout Fishing in America
On the Road Again - Willie Nelson (for Donna)
Hot Rod Lincoln - Commander Cody & His Lost Planet … (for Johnny)
Convoy - C.W. McCall (for my Dad)
Get In The Car - Moxy Früvous (totally for me!)
Fun, Fun, Fun 2:16 Endless Summer The Beach Boys
Ramblin' Man - The Allman Brothers Band
Let It Ride - Bachman-Turner Overdrive
Blinded By the Light - Manfred Mann's Earth Band
The Distance - Cake
Cruisin' - Smokey Robinson
Midnight Rider - The Allman Brothers Band
Truckin' - The Greatful Dead (for daddy)
Route 66 - Manhattan Transfer (I really don't know why I kept this one. Tim likes vocal songs)
Crash - The Primitives
Take It Easy - The Eagles

This was def. the easier to make, though I had to kick a lot of songs out. Stinky's was much harder. I simply couldn't come up with a complete playlist. What did I miss?

(*)>

Summer of Cammo

Thanks Uncle Mike and Aunt Jenny



They got the boys cammo t-shirts, vests, and ecoutrements. The little cherubs already had cammo shorts. As a result, most days they are fully be-decked with cammo, but sometimes they are minimalist army dudes, as in this pic.

Stinky, when he goes anywhere, pretends he is the scout, and "carries" his "weapon" at the ready... he's kinda scary obsessed with it right now.

The moth just tries to keep up. Yesterday, I heard this conversation:
M: "Do you know how we kiss in the army?"
S: "Army guys don't KISS."
M: "Right! We punch each other on the arm or on the back. Not too hard."

sigh. They are such... boys.

John has ventured that I should change what they wear. Why? As long as it's clean, I really don't care what they wear. When school starts again, well, that's another matter.

John has gotten into camping with the boys this summer. They have gone away once and will go away again. Very cheap vacation, this is. The boys camp, which is cheap, and I get a day to myself, which I usually spend watching movies or going for walks. I love summer.

Hope yours is going well, too.

(*)>

I Like War

Summer has started. Yipee! I've already had the kids out on 4 Batan marches. They're becoming inured. Must think of new torture, soon.

The way it works this year, when the boys get real antsy, we go for a "walk". Which is at least 40 minutes long. If they get talky-backy, well, they write sentences. This way I've got both gross and fine motor skills being exercised. I've also got "trivia contests" which cover the crap they have to learn before they go back to school this fall, and we read every day.

Sheesh, I think summer is busier than the school year.

But before summer actually started, I had 2 weeks where I was still at school and Stinky and the Moth were not. I got all of it covered except the last 4 days. I took one of those days off. For the other three, we hired a nice kid from down the street to babysit.

The first morning that she showed up, John said to Sean, "why don't you tell her what you like to do, Sean."

Sean looks at her seriously and says, "I like war."

Nice.

The other parents in the neighborhood alternately send their kids to our house to play - yes really - Americans vs. Indians (the boys made that up) or some other such boy game, or they avoid us like swine flu. We have nerf guns, and missile lauchers, and bow/arrow sets, thanks to all the Harvey uncles. The families who send their kids deep down think guns are ok, but are embarrassed to admit it. Other families eschew us completely. They do NOT like guns.

So I have this set of cap guns that I was going to use for forensics in the science bashing session at the end of the year - caps give off enough crap to do a gun powder residue test - but the school police nixed it. The cap guns are too realistic looking, I guess.

So we have them at home.

Dudley's birthday party (see a few posts down) is in 2 weeks or so. When we go, we're thinking of presenting the cap guns as a gift. What do you think? A little evil goes a lonnnnnng way.

(*)>

trials and tribulations

No, I don't currently have any of those. You'd think that would be a good excuse for not updating. But the fact is, I have no excuse.

We have had several computer woes at the dusty aviary. Our memory challenged machine has finally given up the ghost - either that or the two gerbils we hired to run the processor finally kicked. So, my computer time is mostly at school, and I usually don't have time to blog here.

School is rapidly coming to a close, but some would say not rapidly enough. Our grades go in next friday. Our last day of school is june 23. You might be saying, WTF? I know I was. How on earth am I supposed to motivate whatever kids choose to come (and we're already down to about 50%) to do ANYTHING let alone stop them from being destructive?

At our last teacher meeting (and didn't I leave business to avoid meetings? Dammit.), I decided to ask the other science teachers if they wanted to plan our last two weeks together. Share the misery, as it were. Our department chair was out that day, so, being the ENTJ that I am, I just took over. So, now, the last two weeks look like the best weeks of the year. We're doing all sorts of fun stuff - gameshows, olympics, orienteering, making things go boom - and keeping it science. And if no kids show, well, that's just fine! We'll still have each other to talk to!

~~~~~

On the home front, all is well. The moth just turned 6 last week. On his birthday, I played "Birthday" by the Beatles to wake the boys up. I started singing "you say it's your birthday!" and Tim rolls over, out of sleep, and says "FINALLY!" What a cutie :)

He really is, though. Lately, the kids are really into John Williams music, since I bought them a 4 disk set. I have heard the theme song to Jaws about 10000 times; stinky adores it. But the best was when John and I were sitting in the living room and mothy runs through to the bathroom. All is quiet for a minute or two, and suddenly we hear the theme song to Star Wars. John turns to me and says "I guess everything came out ok." all deadpan. He's like that.

Sean has been working off a debt - he lost one of the two way radios we let him use, AGAIN. We let the boys roam pretty wildly in the back "meadow/forest", but we need to be able to contact them. (We used to let Sean roam the neighborhood with the radio until the time he called us about the white van without windows following him. Seriously. Sheesh, I have to stop watching LMN.) Anyhow, Sean has all these pockets in his cargo pants, but carries the radio in his hand. Puts it down to take a leak and forgets it. First time, we forgave. Second time, he's working off the debt to buy another one.

He works off the debt by picking up dog poop, of which we now have copious amounts. He actually enjoys running the vacuum, which is weird. But he's getting there. He is so excited for school to end, it's not funny. He hates school. Sad but true.

Tim, on the other hand, loves school, and his "cheachers". "Tim, it's TEACHER, t-t-teacher." "Oh, it starts with T? OK. T-t-cheacher."

Reminds me of c-c-c-bookie, Ron.

~~~~~

Another may done, another june to begin. Memorial day has passed and once again I stopped by to say hey to many of the ancestors. It's weird, but I actually like doing that. Kind of a - thanks for living and making it so I could too - gesture. Next year I think I'll take stinky with me. He'll groove on the graveyards, I think. But for now, it's a pilgrimage for mom and me. Makes her awfully sad, which I can understand. They're her brothers and sisters, her husband and parents. I think it makes her feel lonely. But I think she likes to do it, anyhow.

Hope you're all, all 3 of you who still look here once in a while, doing well. Maybe I'll stop by again sometime and let you know what the toilet song of the week is. (This week, it's Axel F. You know, from beverly hills cop and recently used in Monsters Vs Aliens. What can I say, my kids are weird, just like me.)

(*)>

More KidIsms

Previously, I've documented the presence of such Aviary terms as "fire-steaks" (barbeque) and "dirty sugar" (never did figure out what that was - just not good tasting). The moth came up with a new one yesterday.

I am home with the kids, so we're tromping around. We got out of the car at the local strip mall to go to the video place. It smelled... well, fragrant. They had just dumped a huge load of mulch, and that stuff stinks when first delivered. Tim gets out of the car and says, "Eeeewww, it smells like New Jersey out here!!" 

Of course, I laughed a great deal. Then I tried to figure out: why New Jersey? So I asked.

"Dad always says New Jersey stinks!"

ain't it the truth!

(*)>

Winter

Look around, Leaves are brown, there's a patch of snow on the ground.

Well, not really, but it is cold as a witch's nose (which witch? Well, stinky has been playing the homophone game for weeks now since he learned that word. They're fun when they like to learn!). 

It's not as cold here, however, as it is at my sister's house. 30 below where she hails. Sounds lovely. My mom said talking to Kathy made her feel like going outside in a bathing suit because it's positively temperate here in comparison.

Yep, my mother is braving the house of Rogers again. We've no laundry to do, my house is clean and neat, and when Moth was sick this week, she stayed with him.

Speaking of moth, check this out. Kid psychology. Please look at numbers 6 and 7. Snert. He's my kid, for sure!

Besides Tim puking his guts up for the last 3 days (!), we've been well. I have some school stories to write that are kind of fun, but mostly, I'm just keeping up these days. I haven't run regularly in weeks and the less I run the more tired I get. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

John and I went out last night to a restaurant whose name we thought at first was Mala. I thought, who would name their restaurant "bad"? Well, we braved it anyway. I ate something called "Viking Village Scallops." Why do they have to name things like that? They were quite yummy, and if it hadn't been a whopping 8 degrees last night, I might've even gone raping and pillaging afterwards. Unfortunately, I was just too cold. Not a viking after all, I suppose.

I also recorded a BBC miniseries this week called "Lost in Austen". As I am an Austen fanfic... errr... fan, and a fan of the lead actress (she was in a great miniseries called Hex), I gave it a whirl. It was OK, really just a mary sue, but the thing that got me was another major character was a lead character from Hex also. Is Britain really that small?

Well, I'm off to write up my school stories. They are fun in a "please pummel me about the head with a blunt instrument" kind of way. Stay tuned... But for your fun first, while I write these up, please watch my favorite Kingston Trio song. 

Completely round is the perfect pearl the oyster manufactures.
Completely round is the steering wheel that leads to compound fractures
Completely round is the golden fruit that hangs from the o-o-orange tree
Yes the circle shape is quite renown
But sad to say it can be found
In the lowdown, dirty run-around
That my true love gave to me
That my true love gave to me

Completely square is the little box he said my ring would be in
Completely square is the envelope he said good-bye to me in
Completely square is the handkerchief I flourish constantly
As I dry my eyes of the tears I've shed,
And blow my nose which turns bright red
For a perfect square is my true love's head
He will not marry me, no
He will not marry me

Rectangular is the hotel door my true love tried to sneak through
Rectangular is the transom hole by which I had to peek through,
Rectangular is the hotel room I entered angrily, and
Rectangular is the wooden box
Where lies my love neath the golden phlox
They say he died of the chicken pox
In part I must agree
One chick too many had he

Triangular is the piece of pie I eat to ease my sorrow
Triangular is the hatchet blade I plan to hide tomorrow
Triangular the relationship which now has ceased to be
And triangular is the garment thin
That fastens on with a safety pin
To a prize I had no wish to win
It's a lasting memory
That my true love gave to me

(*)>

Whaz Happenin

It's almost December. Although time does not fly, I can't believe it's almost December.

Stinky is about to turn 8. He reaches my chin already. Of course, I'm vertically challenged. But still. The moth is up to my... errr... chest. But Sean somehow got to practically eye height while I blinked. How'd he do that? Just today we were remembering some of the things he used to say... like...

When he was little Sean had a boat (in his imagination). If he liked you you were "on his boat", and if he didn't or you made him mad, you were "off his boat." If there was something you liked... say a movie or something... he had that on his boat, only better.

I always wondered, at the time, how parents could look fondly back on those endless, tiring years. But what do you know? I'm looking back fondly. Weird.

The house of Bird is cold. We keep the heat down and global warmening seems to have stalled this year. I went running this morning and froze my fingers. I had gloves on, but still lost feeling about 2 miles out. Had to turn around and beat feet home. And the sun was up and everything. Bummer.

School is school. Violence is down; class attendance is up. I still can't teach my way out of a paper bag. I can't seem to get across that protons are positive, electrons are negative, neutrons are neutral. 70% of my kids still don't get that. And I'm supposed to move on to bonding. I can't reteach this stuff anymore. They just don't get it.

It's frustrating, really very much so. But at the same time, it's more frustrating when they won't do anything, for the most part, and then get mad when I fail them. Like, what the hell? This isn't poetry. You can't listen and expect to understand. But they think they can. They think that they can listen a few minutes, chat the rest of class, and still get enough info to pass. The combination of (baseless) arrogance and apathy is toxic.

Enough of that.

I've been reading the chronicles of Eve Dallas in my spare time these days. I read some a few years ago, but Ms. Smith sure can churn them out!! I love this character, and it's enough romance and sci-fi to take me away better than Calgon ever could.

(*)>

guilted myself into it

I haven't uploaded pics in 4ever. Here's a few - from our last trip of the summer to the first day of school to school pics. Blogger's giving me a headache with these, so this is the best I'm doing. Now, I've got to go do some real work. Have a nice weekend!

(*)>