winning at parenting #4983

I don't own this orangutan or this picture 

Brady:  mom, when I'm older and bigger I want to be strong like an orangutan!
Me:  Orangutan?
Brady:  yeah, so I can crush people over my head! (makes people crushing motion over head)
Me:  Well, Brady, you can't just go around crushing people.  Remember what Uncle Ben told Spiderman, "with great power, comes great responsibility."

So clearly I won at parenting with that.   What seven year old boy doesn't understand a Spiderman reference?!

arachnophobia

my bathmat covered in my nightmares

I killed a spider today.  Not just any spider though-a baby carrying wolf spider.  Yeah, awesome.  Allow me to start from the beginning.

Seth, who was supposed to be in the bathroom doin' his business, came to find me to tell that their was a spider in the bathroom.  He can be prone to over reaction. He's called us in there before on similar matters like the little boy that cried wolf.  I got up expecting to have to remove some type of Grand-Daddy Long Legs.  Only this time, Seth was spot on.  Sitting in front of the toilet, like he (I always assume a bug is a he until otherwise proved wrong, it's just something I do) owned the place was the mac daddy of eight legged beast.

My first girl reaction was to find a way to trap this beast until someone, who was not me, could kill this devil beast.  That's how I roll.  My stance on bug killing this; outside you can live since I feel like it's me that encroaching on you.  Come inside my house and it's game on.

Well spider was a fighter.  He kept running up to the side of the bathtub where I could never get a cup down over his massive, probably on some sort of spider steroid, body.  I didn't want him to get away so I did what I had to..grabbed the Ant and Roach Raid (ants have been brutal here this summer, btw..what's up with that?).

Grabbing can and taking aim I begin shooting a steady stream of poison on this bad boy.  About .5 seconds after the Raid hit the body of the spider shit began to get real.  The spider began to sort of undulate it's body.  I just keep spraying.  Then I notice that the spider is starting to break apart, like, right before my eyes.  I'm still spraying by the way... It's about now that I notice that the spider isn't breaking, but instead that many tiny little baby spiders are running in all directions to escape my air raid (pun intended).  Holy EFF.

The boys are behind me and i'm yelling at them to "move! move! move!"  I'm just spraying poison now with reckless abandon. Mama spider is still shedding babies as she runs around, i'm spraying, baby spiders are running every where.  It was chaos and hell all rolled into one.  I sprayed until nothing moved.  Seems as if Ant and Roach spray is just as effect on mutant spiders too, score!

And because it's 2012 my first thoughts after surveying the carnage is "I so have to Facebook this".  Grabbing my phone, I bend down into the concentrated poison cloud trying to get the perfect shot of dead baby spiders and mom.  I'm not saying I feel proud about it, but it's what I did.  I'm coughing and gagging trying to get these pictures.  I even stopped to turn the vent on in the bathroom..  Pictures taken and uploaded Seth reminds me that he still needs to use the bathroom...a mother's work is never done.

Seth seemed upset about the idea of my having killed the baby spiders.  I think I breathed in too much spray because the only thing I managed to get out was  to sing some of the  "circle of life".  I emphasized  my point by singing the little African parts "ingonyama bagihi ingonyama..."  My lungs and head hurt the rest of the day too.

Freakin' spiders..
    

ghetto cowboy

not my s'more or my picture

Have you ever come across a site so absolutely great and hilarious and just wanted to share it with the everyone (kinda like how you probably feel about my blog...)

well my sister sent me an email this morning with a link to a Tumblr page called, ghettohikes.  As the page describes, this 28 year old individual named Cody leads groups of urbanites into the wild on camping trips and then writes down the hilariously honest things they say.

I'm not lying when I say I had laugh tears running down my face.  One of the best internet finds in a while for me.  The "hey girl" site full of Ryan Gosling images set a high barre.

Thanks Cody, keep the laughs coming!

moms rule

i don't own this picture, just the words.  don't sue me

The following is my recent article that appeared in my local paper, The Henry County Times.  

For one day out of the year, moms from all walks of life are celebrated and showered with love, and gifts of flowers and chocolate.  We’re congratulated for our heroine like efforts of producing life.  We are given lovely hand-made cards (probably that morning by a well-meaning spouse while the pop-tarts brown in the toaster for our breakfast in bed).  It’s all very heady stuff.  However, for the rest of 364 days of the year, the world sings a very different tune. 

As mom’s we are constantly being questioned, judged, and flat out disrespected at pretty much every turn in our efforts to raise our children.  A recent Times Magazine article asking “Are you mom enough” featured a mom breastfeeding a child, many felt, was far past the acceptable age of being breastfed.  The article in short is about the concepts of attachment parenting.  This article effectively stirs two very hot pots of parenting debate; breastfeeding and the age old argument of working moms vs. stay- at- home- moms. 

Let’s tackle the first one shall we?  I do not give one single ounce of a care on how any mom decides to ensure that her child receives nutrition.  At all.  As long as the mom, does in fact, try to make sure that her child is eating on a regular basis it should not mater to anyone else if that food is coming from ta-ta’s or a bottle.  It really is just as simple as that.  There are plenty of mom’s out there that starve their children and those moms we should be concerned with.  The ones that ARE feeding their kids should not be on anyone’s radar.  If the site of a boob bothers you that much you might have a bigger issues you might want to look into.  This is, after all, why woman have them right?  I know over the years the details have gotten muddled and many feel that woman and their attached body parts are solely for the amusement of others, but that’s not actually the case. Shocking right? 

Next up we have working vs. stay- at- home.  This is a hot topic.  Having done both in the short amount of time I’ve been a parent, I can debate from the fence.  It is absolutely none of my business or anyone else for that matter why a mom decides to work or stay at home.  The grass is always greener on the other side.  One of my favorite sayings is “you might know my story, but you don’t know my journey.”  I think this applies nicely here. 

And while we’re on this topic, moms, I want to talk directly to you for a moment.  Can we cut out the fellow mom bashing between us?  Some of our harshest criticism comes from each other. Why?   The last I checked we were all soldiers in the same war.   This isn’t friendly fire we’re throwing at one another.  Maybe the next time you feel like uttering that phrase that makes even your own skin crawl,  “ well, that’s not how I do it” opt for something a little more supportive.  Because we all know how it feels to be delirious with sleep at 3 a.m with a crying a baby that will.not.sleep.  and you are praying to every god in the cosmos that if you can just maybe get like thirty minutes of sleep that you will never do another bad thing in your life.  We know how it feels to hold our children, while the scream and cry, getting shots at the doctor’s.   And your own eyes sting with tears that you cannot cry because you have to be the strong parent, but inside you feel like dying.  We all know that joy, pure and unadulterated, the first time our babies say “momma”.  Because most babies say “dada” first.  I dunno why.  I’m going to assume that every mom I know is doing their personal best.  We all should. 

So to answer the question “ Are you mom enough?”  Yeah, I am.  And so is every other mother out there making sure their kids grown up to be happy and healthy.  We moms have enough plates spinning in the air most days that really the last thing we need is someone implying that we’re not doing a good enough job.  We’re doing just fine thank you.   So can we put this tired old debate to bed once and for all.   The economy looks like it needs a little help though so maybe we should focus on that.  Or do us mom’s need to fix that too?  

i ain't sayin' she a gold digger

I read the other day that "super" model Linda Envangilista and her baby daddy, Francois-Henri Pinault,  reached a settlement in the child support case of their son.  Miss. Model was asking for a measly $46,000 (THOUSAND!) a MONTH to take care of ONE child.  Just one. 

Um, okay.  Where to start.  I have two kids and to date, I don't think they have collectively cost me anywhere  near that much money in the seven years I have been a parent.  I know Linda used to be some hot stuff once upon a time on the catwalk, but home girl is looking at doing anti-wrinkle commercials for Olay.  Forty-Six thousand a month?!   Does the child eat caviar for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?  Is his nanny the holographic image of Tupac?  I know that whole "maintaining a standard of living" nonsense they'll feed the media, but  someone might want to suggest that Linda look into couponing and budgeting.  The details of the settlement haven't been made public..yet, but i'm sure it will still be more then then average American family makes in a year. Awesome.  

Now I'm not saying that ol' Franc shouldn't be paying up.  Last I heard it takes two to tango.  I did sorta pay attention in sex ed. back in middle school.  And while we are on that topic someone might want to explain where babies come from to Mr. Pinault.  Aside from the very expensive trophy from nailing a one time hot piece of ass he is also the father to two children from a previous marriage and shares a daughter with baby mama ( and now wive) Selma Hayek.  At least that feisty little siren from south of the border has the good sense to make him put a ring on it.  Kudos sista! 

Looking at pictures of Francois you'd be hard pressed to try to tell me that these children were the product of love.  Maybe he's really charming or smells good, I dunno.  He probably just showed these "ladies" his bank statement and their panties combusted.  At least that's how I imagine it in my head.  

If i'm being honest, a small part of me is probably a little jealous.  Sure, Mr. Pinault isn't my usual type, but if he called me up I would drop it like it's hot and hope to God I was ovulating.  Cha-Ching!  

pink eye

Being a mom has a lot of really awesome moments.  Like when you hear your child say he loves you for the first time, how they run and leap into your arms and the such.

Sometimes though it's not all fun and games.  Like when they share with you their pink eye germs.  Yup, that's not so awesome.  I could have done without them sharing their butt scratching doo-doo finger germs with me.  I know it originated from B and S because they're just getting over their own conjunctivitis.  Trying to type out a blog post with one functioning eye kinda sucks.  My right eye is pretty much swollen shut right now.  Turns out you really do need both eyes for silly things like depth perception. Pouring the kids juice this morning was a real laugh (not really)

On top of all this fun I have a math test tomorrow.  So it's off to the drug store for a doo-doo eye walk of shame...
 
p.s.  I was going to add a picture of a pink eye infected eye...but upon googling it I changed my mind.  ugh.  some things can't be unseen.

troubled waters

http://youtu.be/o7BmJM_9RUM   (click on that because I can't figure out how to embed the link, but read the following first)

So that above scene, that I in no way own and apologize for it's horrible quality, pretty much sums up my evening with Seth.  Something he ate decided to wage a war in his tiny tummy tonight before bed and he found himself battling a case of "muddy water" as he calls it.  And I, as his very lucky mom, had the privilege of sitting with him in the bathroom while a scene very much like the above one, played out.  That is just one of the many perks of being a parent.  You never know if your kids are going to want mommy or daddy in their times of need.  So when I got called into the bathroom tonight to ride out the storm with my ailing four year old, I went.  I think such situations are listed in the fine print of rights you waive when you leave the hospital with your bundle of joy.  Along with things like ever soundly sleeping again, hot meals for at least the first five years, showers that last longer than fifteen minutes, ect.

One thing to know about Seth is that he NEVER stops talking.  He's even been known to talk in his sleep.  So while he violently evacuated his lower intestines he kept up a steady stream of conversation like we were sitting on the couch having a normal conversation.  And if you know anything about me,  I have the maturity level of a  twelve year old boy when it comes to bathroom jokes so it takes every fiber of my being not to collapse into a fit of giggles and keep a straight face.  My favorite line from Seth was when he looked down at his tummy and exclaimed, "tummy, what's wrong with you!!".

I am glad to report that by the time he drifted off to dream land he seemed fine and hopefully that will be the case through the night.  Although I won't hold my breath for that since that whole no sleep thing was in the fine print.  Well, I take that back, I will be holding my breath but for a different reason.

random thoughts

not my actual egg, duh.  

I partially read a story earlier that, in short, was something about the emotional downfall of donating eggs for strangers to use in IVF.  It got me thinking though...I will never be able to donate my eggs.  Ever.  Not because  I am morally against such things, but because I have a kid with autism.

Having a child on the spectrum nobody is ever going to want a part of my genetic code.  Even though autism hasn't been linked to be genetic, they'll turn their noses up at my ovaries offerings.  They won't care that my son is one of the funniest, smartest, caring, insightful, adorable ( adjective etc) kid on the face of the planet.  That they should be honored to have a child that is 1/4 of his awesome.  They won't even care that we have son that isn't on the spectrum and he's just as equally amazing as his brother in his own way.  

and to that I say..it's their lose.  They probably couldn't handle such an amazing kid anyways.  It's an honor and a privilege to raise such a child and I thank the universe daily for choosing me to accept the challenge.  

I'll leave you with a gem brady shared with me today

"a hungry person never passes up the chance to lick the beaters" -brady, age 7.  Autistic and more awesome than your genetically engineered kid.  

just a little reminder

Just a reminder that if you want to keep up with the two crazy kids for which the blog is named after then clicky over to the side on my Facebook link and then subscribe.  How easy is that?!  And you'll probably end up with a daily dose of funny on your news feed.  It's a win-win situation!

may the odds...

be ever in your favor

Trying to capitalize on my eye of the tiger feelings the other day I've been trying to keep busy.  Well by busy I mean trying to juggle school, kids, life, and what I'm pretty sure is a full on addiction to Pinterest.  I also discovered my phones ability to act as a Kindle.  I read seven books last week.  I'm not bragging, but seven...

Six of those seven were parts two separate series though.  One being The Hunger Games.  Go read it if you have not!  Now!  I'll excuse you from reading the rest of this post to go do so.   Don't worry you won't miss anything. This series is probably one of the best I've read.  Good writing and thought provoking while still being a page turner.  I stayed up several nights well past midnight reading.  When you have a four year old that wakes with the rooster's that leaves you dragging the next day.

  The second series I read was the Fifty Shades trilogy.  That was..different.  Good, but I wouldn't (couldn't) recommend it to my mama without blushing wildly.  But I will recommend it to you with the warning that it's for the prudish at heart.

I devoured Water for Elephants.  I haven't seen the movie yet, but wanted to read the book before I sat down to enjoy some Robert Pattinson goodness.  I've started, but not finished The Lucky One.  Who doesn't love Nicholas Sparks?  Well The Notebook..the movie version...Ryan Gosling.  Yeah, it's probably just about Ryan Gosling.  anyways..

Now you know what I've been up to.  In case you cared.  And to garner some reader feedback.  How many of you are planning on going to see The Hunger Games?  Are you Team Peeta or Team Gale?

eye of the tiger

Have you ever had such a sudden sense of clarity about what you wanted and expected out of life?  No?  Yes?  Well right now I have just that.  Eye of the tiger type shit.  I gotta say, it's a pretty awesome feeling.

On that high note, I'll be back tomorrow with more bloggin' goodness.  I've got some big things in mind for my writing too, including the ol' blog.  Are you excited?  You should be!

ring of fire

I was twenty-five, with two kids before I ever had my very own cell phone.  Shocking right?!  Well it's true.  Up until that point I never really had a need for one.  It was a sturdy little Nokia and I love this phone.  Naturally one of the first things I did was look into downloading ring tones.  Trying match the perfect thirty second sound clip with the right person.  It was time consuming and pain staking.  Well pain staking in that I had a hard time justifying spending money on a clip of a song.  Not the whole song, but just a snippet.  To know me is to know that this sort of thing does not jive with my cheap thrifty mentality.

Now, almost five years later I've given up ring tones of all types.  Especially those horribly obnoxious call back ring tones.  You know, the song of choice that the person you are trying to reach seems to think you would be delighted to hear while you wait for them to just answer their damn phone.  Yes, please, I love listening to Nickleback while you do lord only knows what and make me wait to answer. Awesome.  If you have such a thing on  your phone and wonder why you never hear from me ( and probably a lot of other people too) I hope this shed some light on the matter for you.

I think my enlightenment on the obnoxious nature of ring tones comes mainly from my times as a secretary.  I worked for a while at the local courts where things like cell phones were not permitted in the court room.  If, for whatever reason, a person had no place to safely store their phones I would agree to hold them at my desk.  On the condition that the phones where completely turned off or at least set to silent.  Well a few slipped by.

Nothing is more embarrassing when you are trying to do your job, a very public job, and suddenly you hear something along the lines of  "to the window, to the wall, till the sweat drips down my balls".  Imagine me red faced and fumbling to turn off this offending little piece of technology on my desk while I sputter and try to explain that this phone does not even belong to me, I swear!

Now don't get me wrong, I enjoy some good offensive music from time to time.  However, I enjoy it in the comfort of my own home or in my own ears via headphones.  I don't explode it from my car stereo or through my cell phone while I wait in line at the bank or grocery store.  My phone almost always stays on vibrate.  This works for me, until it gets lost (which is often) and have a hard time calling the phone to locate its whereabouts.

So please, can we cool it with the ring tones?  That'd be awesome.  And you would save money, so double score!

keep you forever

me and a smaller Seth.  

Seth will be starting kindergarten in the fall.  My baby, the kindergartner.  I have some pretty mixed feelings about this and I can tell he does too.  Sure we have gone through this once already with his older brother, but by the time Brady started kindergarten he had already been going to school since he was three.  It was a special day none the less in its own way, but honestly I had already shed my tear two years ago.  Seth though, this is new.  He is our last child and our only child that has been home with me full time since the day he was born.  Well I did work for a while, but his grandmother kept him so he's never set foot in a classroom of any type.  Most days he is ready to hop on that big yellow bus with his brother, other days, not so much.  

Seth spends his day pretty leisurely. He is at least used to getting up early so that won’t be new to him, but the structure of school is going to be a big shock!  I think that Seth's idea of school is a place where you go and play and maybe, if you feel like it, learn a few things.  I've tried to tell him, prepare him, that school is a place where you sit in a little chair and you have to listen and raise your hand to talk and all that jazz.  I'm not sure how well all the information is sinking in most of the time.  I know he will learn soon enough, all be it probably the hard way that I meant what I said. 

Other days he is glued to my side.  My shadow.  He tells me that he wants to keep me forever.  This singular phrase explodes my heart every time.  I want to be able to tell him that he can stay with me here at home forever.  I can’t of course.  One day I did though.  I asked him to stay little forever and stop growing so fast.  That I was going to miss him when he started school.  Seth, my little old soul, did not humor my moment of weakness.  Instead he puts his little boy hands, that were probably sticky, on both sides of my face, and with an expression so serious that it should not and could not belong to a four year old boy looked me straight in the eyes and says "But mommy, I have to go to school.  I have to learn!"  I cannot argue with him.  He's right, of course he's right.    I pull him close for a big hug and to also give myself a minute to compose my face.  I want to laugh and cry, but know that neither is a good idea. So I just hug him tighter.  

I hope his future teacher is able to see Seth for the amazing little person he is.  That this person will have patience and understanding when he tells her she’s wrong and goes on to explain why.  That she allows herself, on occasion, to be taken in by those baby blues. Know that he will frustrate you and make you laugh in the blink of an eye. Most importantly though make him want to keep you forever.  

it puts the lotion on its skin

take that wrinkles! 

No, I am not gonna review "Silence of the Lambs"  other than to say it's creepy and gave me nightmares.  So what am I talking about?  Well, lotion.  duh.  

I turned 29 this year.  Ugh, right?!  In doing such I decided that it was past time that I start paying attention to the care of my epidermis.  That's skin for you common folk.  

As a child any exposure to the sun led to me doing my best imitation of a cooked lobster.  My red tinted hair and Irish blood laughed in the face of SPF.  Not only did thick coatings of zinc not prevent sunburn, but it often time only made my skin more angry at me for exposing it to the sun’s harmful rays.  I would burn AND blister.  Awesome.  But summer after summer, there I was, throwing the proverbial finger at the sun and my skin trying to keep up with my sister who tanned like an Indian princess.  My sister got mother's ability to tan effortlessly where I got her tendency to gain weight in the midsection.  Yay me..  

My teenage years weren't much different.  Summers were spent in a lawn chair getting my tan on.  After that first burn of the summer  (man that sounds so bad..)  I would normally darken up pretty nice.  When you're 15 you don't worry about the freckles that lead to skin cancer.  Pass me the baby oil you say. "Do you smell bacon, guys?" you ask.  No, it's just your burning flesh.  

After I had kids getting sunburned really became painful.  That's only because your kids will find it fun to come up to you and pull, jump, slap, and smack your angry red surface.  Mommy's face twisted in pain is funny.  Do it again!!  Their constant need for attention doesn't jive with your need to lay in a prone position on the couch slathered in aloe.  

So now at the cusp of 30 I decided I should start taking this seriously. For a while now I've been making sure I put on a base of SPF ( the pictured lotion to be exact) before I put on my make-up (which also contains sun protector).  And for night time use I began using an anti-aging creme.  That's right, a night cream...like your grandmother.  Take that wrinkles!  Oh! And is that chamomile I smell?  That's nice.  

Along with this routine of face lotions and creams I have a team of lotions for the other quadrants of my body.  Not only am I preventing anymore skin damage, but it's probably a pretty effect way to thwart would be attackers.  You can't attack what you can't even get a grip on.  That's my theory at least.    

So kids, don't wait until you are looking crow’s feet in the face (haha, see what I did there) and start laying on that Olay now.  And also, don't watch that a fore mentioned movie unless you like nightmares.

tummy bug

So where have I been lately...dealing with a super fun stomach bug.  Thankfully it was only one sided so to speak.  You know, and not the kinda bug that leaves you wondering which end gets the toilet first..yeah.  And now that I've all grossed you out...

I'll try to get a better blog post up by Thursday.  It won't be about poop..hopefully.

the big day

At the beginning of the month I had mentioned that I was toying with the idea of cutting off a bunch of hair  for a good cause.  Well that day has come.  I have an 11:30 appointment to undergo the shears.  I will update later today the before and afters.

Also on deck for the coming weekend is a trip to Alabama.  J has to work so it'll just be me and the boys and all of J's family!  Luckily for me, everyone gets along.  I'll also be taking my school stuff to keep up with my homework.  Being a grown up sucks is so much fun.

I'll leave you with a conversation that I had with Seth this weekend about hair..

seth: (sticking his head in my face) lick my hair.
me: excuse me, what?
seth:  lick my hair...like  Lion King..(waits) just do it.
me:  no, and move your head.


*update* as promised the before and after pictures!

before

after

a bag full of hair. 

me vs. technology

Office Space.  Why not.  This is how I felt.  

As the title suggest, me and technology  have not be friends this week, at all.  By mid week it was a full on war.  Allow me to explain.

Tuesday night I plugged in my phone to charge, like I do every night, and it gave a little buzz, like it always does, to let me know that everything was connected in their proper places and I went off to dream land.  The next morning I grab my phone and rush to get me and the boys ready to head out the door for school.  Half way to school I realize my phone is barely charged..hmm weird I think.  I get to class, plug in my phone to charge some more, but that little buzz doesn't happen.  That tell tale little buzz that lets me know my phone is happily charging away.  I plug and unplug, blow on connections, turn phone on and off, plug again..no buzz.  Then I see the problem-the charger cord is almost entirely broken in half.  Huh?  How did THAT happen?  Over night at that.  A head scratcher to be sure.  Thankfully my cell phone provider replaced it free of charge since I've barely had the phone two weeks.

Thursday morning I'm using my laptop when it alerts me that the battery is dying.  Odd considering that the charger was already IN.  I investigate and discover that the little needle that connects the charger to the computer is broken.  Again, seemingly overnight another charge has bitten the dust.  Off to Best Buy because I can't function with out my laptop ( I have to have it for school). Unfortunately Best Buy isn't as generous in giving out free chargers.  High-way robbery later I got a charging laptop.

However, my sweet little laptop seems to have contracted a computer STD.  Thankfully I have a friend who does IT and he was able to bring my computer back from the brink of total melt down.  Well maybe the laptop wasn't on the verge of a melt down, but I certainly was!  Joe totally saved the day!

Thankfully I haven't had anymore tech problems since then (knock on wood!).   I'll leave you with how I explained computer viruses to my seven year old..

me:  the computer has sickies, a virus.
brady:  why?
me:  because some people just want to watch the world burn.

yup a "The Dark Knight" quote.  ( that I think originally says "men", but you get the point..and he's seven...don't send hate mail.)

to cut or not to cut, that is the question

snip snip

So I've got some crazy long hair.  Not so long that you might mistake me for being associated with any particular religion, but it's pretty long.  I went an entire year with out cutting my hair, not for any particular reason other than financial.  I figured not cutting my hair was better than a cheap-o cut at the place beside where I get my groceries.  (Not hatin'..just sayin')

So my hair grew and grew and grew some more in a years time.  I love my hair, really I do, but some days I day dream of whacking it all off.  Which sends J into a panic because he really really loves the long locks.  While I love my long hair it certainly has some draw backs.

1.  It's heavy.
2.  As a mom 10 times out of 10 my hair is pulled back in a really cute boring pony tail.
3.  It gives me headaches.
4.  I get hair dryer elbow (that's probably an actual medical malady..but I'm not going to bother to Google and verify)
5.  J gets the dirty job of pulling my hair sheddings from the bath tub drain.  He gave this wad of cast off hair a nick name "Leezur".  ( I lose a lot of hair..it's pretty gross)

and so forth and so on...you get the picture.

I've been toying with the idea lately of chopping the locks for a worthy cause.  I've been working to get my hair back into a more healthy state after a years worth of neglect.  Right now my hair is relatively healthy.  My ends were a hot mess of split ends.  I never felt it was right to donate split end riddled hair to poor little cancer patients  The cancer is bad enough, without the added insult of my nappy hair for a wig.  Now I feel it's coming back around and I keep going back to giving back.

But I worry I'll mourn my long tresses.  Will the do good feelings I get of helping a little girl feel pretty in the face of such horrendous circumstances help me get over my own vanity..probably.  It's only hair after all....

testing testing

Just a heads up that I have not abandoned my dear blog.  I just have a few test at school coming up that I've been busy studying for.  Math test tomorrow and a early american history test on Monday.

Honesty, who plans test on Mondays!  My professor apparently.  Tests on Mondays should be against the law.  I know there are much bigger things to worry about in Congress right now, but that's something that should be looked into soon.  Just sayin'.

I went out and got myself a new calculator today too.  Exciting right?!  No..no it isn't.  If you agreed that it was exciting then, well...I'm sorry.  The fancy pants graphing calculator I bought last semester (that I wasn't supposed to use, but so totally did like a total rebel!)  decided to crap out on me.  I should return it, but honestly I just don't want the hassle.  It's probably been too long anyways.  Are there still math teachers in the world that try to teach without using calculators?  I remember as a small school girl being told "you need to know how to do this in your head, you won't always have a calculator handy!"  Clearly they had no way of seeing into the future that included smart phones.  Teaching math without a calculator is like telling a person they can't use the dictionary in my  book.  Sometimes you need to double check yourself.

So if the blog post aren't forth coming over the next few days you'll know it's because I am buried underneath a pile of history notes.  No need to send help...but feel free to send chocolate!

*update* I made an "A" on the math test!

they said what? week in review

So I thought a fun way to incorporate the whack-a-doodle things the boys say to the blog was to do a weekly recap.  If I made a blog post for every funny thing that came out of B and S's mouth I'd be overwhelmed with blog post.  That sounds braggy, but I don't mean it that way...

Once I figure out how- I plan to include a link to my Facebook page where you can subscribe to all the mouthy shenanigans of the boys.  Until then this will have to do.  A highlight of some of the more chuckle endusing statements and conversations that have taken place this week.

"I want to be a Barbie Girl" - Seth age 4

Lady on the new:  those images were from an exploding transform
Seth: Transformers?  Optimus?
Me:  not those kinds of Transformers.

The boys playing outside (A bee came and decided to take over the bucket they were filling with dirt)
Seth ( going to see if the bee had left)
Brady:  Seth, leave the bee to his business!
Seth:  It gone now, Bready! ( how it sounds when seth say's his brothers name)
Brady:  Okay, I just don't want you to get stung.

Brady: (to me) Do I have homework tonight

Me:  not that I know of

Brady:  (gesturing to his little brother who was playing alone and not paying attention) Why don't we let him do all the homework and I do all the fun stuff?

Me:  I don't think it works that way..

Remember you can head over to my Tumblr and check out past funnies from the boys.  And i'll be working on that Facebook link.  


*edit.  I have added a link over there to my Facebook (which is set up that you can subscribe to all my public post.)  sorry I will not be accepting friend request..unless I really know you.  sorry..