The Cost of Protecting the Easter Bunny Story

Hey Addison, Me too

Wendy's creature-nemesis:

The Dreaded LORAX

'What" creature will become your nemesis?' at QuizGalaxy.com

The Veterinarian

Girlie wants to be a veterinarian. Not a wussy veterinarian that treats doggies and kitties but a wild animal veterinarian (most likely so that EVERY day she can be at Busch Gardens). So she set up a veterinarian clinic on our back porch. (See picture one.) The tape is used for dismembered worms. The box and the plastic container are for capturing lizards and bugs. I'm not at all sure why she needs scissors. Her plan, and it's a fine one, is to catch bugs, take them to her clinic for an examination, draw their picture, and compare her drawing with a real photograph of the bug in some bug encyclopedia that she imagines we possess. If the bug as drawn by her doesn't match the photo, the bug needs her veterinary services. Very cute and nicely thought out.

Here's the problem. Take a look at picture number two. Girlie drew that last week. It's a picture of a baby owl. I've seen her bug drawings and with the exception of rather easy to draw oval shaped beetles, her representations of bugs aren't much more realistic than this owl. She's seven for cripes sake. But I guess now I know why she has scissors. Poor buggers. They must always have to go under the knife.

More Beautifuller

Girlie got into my makeup drawer today and told me that she wanted to make herself "beautifuller." Apparently, she thinks she would be more beautiful with glasses. This pair was drawn with blue eye crayon. You know, I frequently wear a pair of bluish rimmed glasses. Perhaps she wanted to look like me. How cute.

"The Jealousy Method" - For potty training parents only

Lucinda over at Suburban Turmoil has reminded me about those halcyon days of potty training. I commented on her site about my proven method but it's such an important topic to so many parents, I feel a responsibility to share my knowledge with a wider audience. I know for a fact that at least one of my regular readers has an infant. If I can help even one person..... So, Lucinda, like I did for awhile, is going the naked baby route. Her very funny post illustrates the dangers associated with such a method. When Girlie was two, we tried the naked approach with similar results. Girlie would run around the house shouting, "Nudie! Nudie!" She'd play with her toys, engage me in a game of chase, and occasionally even take a little peek at her plastic safety potty. But the usual result was something like this: she would sit on the potty; do nothing; go play with her plastic toy food; poop while standing up over the plastic lettuce leaf; and say, "uh oh." That really happened. A plastic lettuce leaf spared our carpet. So what's a mom to do? Heh, heh. Find your child's most desired treat. For Girlie it was chocolate chips. Oh sure, you promise her that she'll get one if she does her thing in the potty but that's not the part that works. What you MUST THEN DO, is reward your mommy self with a chocolate chip every time YOU go to the bathroom. Make sure your child sees you eating those chocolate chips and exclaim quite loudly about their deliciousness. Then say something encouraging like, "I sure hope you get to have a chocolate chip today. Mmmmmm." Girlie was potty trained in about a day after I employed that method. You're welcome.

Where's the logic exactly?

Holy Holidays, Batman. It's almost Peaster.

Tonight is the start of Passover and Easter is on Sunday. Thank you Mom-101 for introducing me to the word, Peaster. Her description of Passover with her family is a hoot. My family tradition is to celebrate Easter. When I was growing up, we awoke on Easter Sunday to baskets of goodies and an Easter egg hunt. Good thing, too, or we wouldn't have the classic family story of the Easter egg hunt at the Oregon coast one year. We spent hours decorating two dozen hard-boiled eggs. Then the Easter Bunny hid them outside while we slept. If ANY of you are from Oregon, you'll guess where this is going. In Oregon there are giant slugs the size of hot dogs with Martian antennae. They love eggs. Who knew? They didn't eat them but they sure as hell slimed them. Then of course my gross brothers started putting salt on the slugs and well, Mom threw up, my little sister cried and Dad and I had a terrific laugh. Good times. These days, being your basic godless heathen, I still enjoy Easter for the jelly beans and stuffed bunnies. I feel a little guilty celebrating a holiday that I don't feel religiously attached to but I love the lack of religious tradition in my family. The result is that I had a grandmother who was a Christian Scientist, I have a cousin who is a Buddhist monk, there's the odd Christian or two in the mix, and as I have such a large extended family, there are most likely Jews and Muslims and Scientologists hanging around the family clan too. Girlie attended a Jewish preschool for a couple of years. Hubby was the President of his church youth group as a kid. It's a splendid mix. It wasn't all peace and harmony growing up in my household but the end result is that we're a very tolerant lot full of strong individual personalities. And for those of you who still think that I need saving, here's a short list of why I'm a good person even though I'm an atheist. 1. I never blog about my inlaws even though they are highly bloggable. 2. I give a lot of money to charity, when I have it. 3. I love my husband and daughter and never beat them. Or my pets. (Okay, inlaws, that's a joke. It doesn't mean that I am suppressing a desire to beat them. Sheesh, now I have to erase number 1.) 4. I like most everybody. I'm a bleeding-heart liberal whose best friend in town is a staunch conservative. Ah, tolerance. 5. I eat my fruits and vegetables. 6. I love my life. See? I don't need fixing. Thanks for stopping by and Happy Peaster!

Oh my God, I won! Well, probably. Maybe.

I am actually going to write this post and not draw a cartoon. After all, it's about writing. At the end of last year, I entered a short short story contest at Writer's Digest. I don't typically write short stories. This was probably the first one I'd written outside of some college fiction writing class a long time ago. Just imagine how good it was. All those years of pent-up short storytelling finally flowing from my pen. Oh the drama, oh the characterizations, oh the descriptive wizardry. All in 1,500 words or less. I was sure the moment I sent it off that I would win. Well, I checked on the Writer's Digest site and they say that the winners have been notified. HOLY SHIT! I'm an AUTHOR. I get TONS of crap mail from places like, well, Writer's Digest. I MUST HAVE THROWN AWAY THE NOTIFICATION!!! I just don't know where to begin turning my house upside down. Oh, and I'll need the name of some good computer forensic scientist to retrieve the email notification that I surely deleted without reading. Imagine my embarrassment. Of course, I won't be half so embarrassed as those Writer's Digest folks will be when they have the awards ceremony and the grand prize winner isn't even there. Shoot, it's almost worth passing up just for the great posting fodder. So if any of you know somebody over at Writer's Digest, just tell 'em I haven't received my notification yet and I wouldn't want them to feel bad. THANKS!

The Temptation of Mom

Five Minutes in the Kitchen

Every little thing she said

Some days, Girlie sounds positively scripted. Today was such a day. a.m. Me: "Mornin' Girlie. Are you hungry?" Girlie: "Sure, I could use a well-balanced breakfast." noonish Girlie: "Me and Daddy are working together to do Mother Nature a favor." [by putting the worms Hubby dug out of the gutter onto plants] Girlie: "No time, no time -- this worm needs surgery NOW!" [proceeding to put tape around the body of a worm that had been cut in half] Girlie: "When training to be a veterinarian, you must start with the classics." [worms, apparently] p.m. Me: "I love you so much I could just eat you up." Girlie: "But I'm not on the menu." [just as well, I only have the one kid]

Running and Screaming

We ran across one of Girlie's spelling assignments from earlier in the year. The best part of her spelling work is where she has to use the words in sentences. Without further ado, I present you with Girlie's Words (unedited). I once wrote a story about sponge Bob square pants. I love mommy her kisses are great. I don't have many house erasers at all. If I had a choice of ice cream with lactose, I would choose the other choise. I love the out doors. I'd love to get out of school so I can go to Bush Gardens. I'd love some food right now. Mommy and daddy are great! I love them so much. I'd love to get out of school rigt now then I could play with my toys. I love these parts of Florida. I love to jump up and down on a trampoleen. If it rains will the rain stop? [she wrote the answer upside down] yes. If I was stolen by a stranger would I run or screem or both? [upside down answer] both. So she can't spell but she's got the stranger danger thing down pat. I'm good with that. And there's something decidedly existential about her rain question. Good job, Girlie. I give you a smiley face.

Keep working on it, George.

Bush involved in leak?

Smelling is bad -- acupuncture treatment #2

My second acupuncture treatment was yesterday. Mmmm. Just as good as the first time. We still haven't even started with specific NAET treatments. I think that they were concerned about the fact that I can barely breathe and haven't been able to smell anything since 1992. I don't know how many pins were stuck in my back and shoulders (and arms and legs) but this time one of them was ouchy. They had to take it out. Otherwise, it was all good. I stayed there on my stomach under a heat lamp for twenty minutes and the sensation was simply exquisite. Then I felt great the whole rest of the day. The euphoria is like how you feel when you get a bit of really great news that you were waiting for. So there's the upside. Feels good both during and after. Here's the downside. My dog needs a bath, the fridge needs cleaning, and the cat box could use a little attention. I knew all that but now I can smell all that. Yay, I can smell. Dang, I can smell. Don't ask me how it works. I have no idea. But my sense of smell is returning and all day yesterday I could breathe through both nostrils. You know what gets better when you have a good sense of smell? Shut up, I was talking about taste. That's a good thing, in general, but Hubby won't get away with buying that cheap wine anymore now that I can taste it. Got any recommendations on a good Pinot?

Is "innocent manipulation" an oxymoron?

Girlie arrived at our bedside at 7:15 this morning -- a normal time for her. She was in her jammies, also normal except when aliens are running experiments. Aliens popped by twice in the last -- well, forever -- and didn't realize that getting dressed before being nagged was normal human behavior for Girlie (thusly they were recognized as aliens). Anyway, last night I'd put a stack of clean clothes in her room so this morning I suggested that she go find an outfit for today before heading downstairs. Girlie: "Why do I have to get dressed so early?" Me: "It's not that early. You need to get dressed before school so why not now before we're all in a rush not to be late?" Girlie: "I only got dressed by myself those two times to keep you away from making me do it every day." Me: laughing on the outside but on the inside being VERY afraid of her teenagerhood. She's only in first grade. Okay, it's plain old manipulation on her part, I just called it "innocent manipulation" because she hasn't figured out that she doesn't need to tell us about it.

Will the next election ever get here?

Sitting on the floor eating stale jelly beans, the president speaks to his speech writers about a rallying cry to members of the United Nations about the Middle East.

Desperate Measures

Pokedly Yours...

Today I had my exam and first actual treatment using Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM), more specifically, acupuncture. The first thing I was asked to do was to stick out my tongue. Huh? She looked at it and wrote something down. Maybe it was, "uses Crest toothpaste." Maybe she could read the lines on my tongue and tell how long I was going to live and therefore whether or not to bother treating me. I really can't say. Then she took my pulse, had me stick out my arm and resist pressure, and breathe a little funny at the same time. She murmured something and made a few more notes. Bring out the needles, already, I'm thinking. So she did. (She reads minds too.) Whatever skepticism I had brought with me finally took a lunch break. It doesn't hurt one bit to get the needles positioned and after lying there for twenty minutes under a warm lamp, I didn't want her to take them out. Seriously, it was wonderful. The needles today were mostly in my back and shoulders. We finished up with a shoulder/back Chinese massage and I was high as a kite all afternoon. Now here's the spooky part. My allergies have damaged my sense of smell so much that I can't smell vinegar. Except today I could have. My dog jumped in my lap and I commented to Girlie that stinky doggie needs a bath. Stinky? Doggie? I could smell the dog? I could smell the dog! My next treatment is on Thursday. I can not wait!

The Importance of knowing what motivates your kids

Tribulations

I made Girlie release the lizard. Sob! Sob!! SOBBBBBB!!! "Deep in my heart, it was like that lizard was my own son!" The son she kept in a dark box with no water and little food. We told her that if she saved her money for a month, we would help her buy the extra-large terrarium required for a lizard. Check back with me in May to see if we haven't moved on to other interests.