Melyssa Williams's Blog, page 5
August 20, 2012
one more day...one day more
Today's your last chance to enter to win your very own George!
Let's round up those entries to an even 100, for all my O.C.D. friends out there. Come on, you know you wanna!
CLICK HERE
Or scroll down two posts to Give Away Yay
...and leave a comment. Don't forget to leave your contact info in case you win!
Let's round up those entries to an even 100, for all my O.C.D. friends out there. Come on, you know you wanna!
CLICK HERE
Or scroll down two posts to Give Away Yay
...and leave a comment. Don't forget to leave your contact info in case you win!
August 16, 2012
Doing it differently
My apologies if this is copyrighted - I couldn't find out for sure. Originally from the Official Book of Homeschooling Cartoons, by Todd Wilson.Things I plan to do differently this school year:
1. Not force anyone to eat breakfast. Namely, Anna. The other two eat the second they get up, sometimes earlier. I always have this inner voice in my head that tells me if my kids don't have a nutritious breakfast, or at the very least, a bowl of sugar frosted cocoa bombs, then they will not be able to concentrate, fail at school, never graduate, marry a thug, and go to prison.
But fighting over breakfast is not a good way to start the day.
Maybe I'll set out a bowl of grapes, or a bag of pretzels, and if she's hungry over her science lesson, she can munch.
After all, no one knows our own bodies like ourselves. And if she really hates food in the morning, I think I'm just gonna let her hate.
2. Get up earlier and wake the kids earlier. I hate this one, because I really like getting up when I want to, and letting the kids sleep as long as possible. After all, that and the pajamas, are the main reasons we homeschool! My kids are not good morning people, but you know what? They are worse late morning people.
Plus, they go to bed earlier, which you gotta know...can just be nice. Not that I don't love the little gremlins.
“There was never a child so lovely but his mother was glad to get him to sleep.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson
3. Grammar and vocabulary and spelling.
Yeah, we mostly skipped those last year. Don't judge.
4. Tightening up on Anna's schooling (not trusting her to be more independent than she naturally can be) and continuing to loosen up on Cora's. What does this mean, practically? Sitting nearby and NOT doing eleventy-seven other things while Anna struggles with math, and allowing Cora to spend afternoons at the library alone if she wishes.
5. Doing a lot more field trips and meeting more potential friends. Especially for Cora, who finds it hard to find a Bestie. We joined a whole new group this year and are looking forward to getting involved. Last year, I had about as much interest in being involved in anything, as I do in nuclear physics. That is to say, zero.
6. Remembering that while I don't enjoy teaching school, I do enjoy my kids. While Pre-Algebra might not make sunbeams shoot out from anyone's head, unicorns prance by, violins play, or rainbows emerge over the kitchen table, I don't have to come to school kicking and screaming harder than the students. It's bad for morale.
What are you doing differently this year?
August 7, 2012
GIVE AWAY YAY!
I'm a lucky girl and I get to work for the best homeschool magazine and blog out there in the world today. And being sweet as pie, they are offering a coupon code for their ridiculously pretty and handy planning software, here - right here! Right now! I know!
Here's the scoop:
There are lots of planning options out there. I've done everything from the sticky pad method to the laminated index card method to the day planner method to the fly by the seat of my pants method. Lucky for me, I got my very own Well Planned Day planner to use and test and fill out and play with and hug and kiss and name George! I know. It's a perk. I wuv them.
George might be intimidating to those of us who are used to organizing our homeschool by shouting for pencils, frantically renewing library books online, and trying to remember if we loved a particular math program or hated it. You mean, plan things out and then stick to them? What is this nuttiness of which I speak?
Don't get me wrong. I love organizing things. I love routine. And I'm quite unabashedly punctual. But homeschool schedules and I are like mortal enemies. Mostly because when I fail at something - which I will do and probably on the second day of school - or we don't get to a particular subject, then I feel like a big, fat loser. But here's the thing: with George it's easy to go back in and rework something! No trying to erase the entire month of September in Sharpie. Not that I've ever done that. Ahem.
Each student gets their own section and you can fully customize it. This is going to be extra fun for my preteen tech-y wiz, who loves a good schedule, likes to write her own, and adores "looking up" things on the computer.
George doesn't stop there. There are budgeting areas, meal planning, chores, all sorts of things! It's NOT just for homeschooling...
I can't even begin to tell you how cool it is, so you should probably do what I did, and watch this tutorial:
http://vimeopro.com/homeeducatingfamily/my-well-planned-day-live-qanda-session/video/46687089
Isn't Rebecca's voice soothing? It's as if you can hear her say in between the lines, you can do this...you are a stellar calculus teacher...you CAN teach phonics...and you look gorgeous in those pajamas...
For my lovely pajama-ed readers, you can use this code, 07wpdblog12, to get $15 off the price of the $65 planner! Offer expires October 1.
If that wasn't neat enough, you can now enter the big give away, cross your fingers, and wish on a star for your very own FREE Well Planned Day...(and you can name him/her whatever you want...Archibald, Princess Peach, Grisabella, Twinkletoes, Sneezy, Mr. Darcy, Zuzu, George II, George Jr....)
Good luck!
Due to international sweepstakes laws, this giveaway is for US entries only.
This giveaway is not connected to any social media site.
It's always good form to do some "liking" on Facebook, become a follower, sign up for subscriptions, leave comments telling you you love me and will never leave me, and mail me cookies, but those are entirely optional and will have no bearing on the winner. Except for the cookies. Cookies will up your chances of winning.
So don't wait! Do it now! Leave a comment (or twelve. Come on, show us how bad you want this!) and you've officially entered! Scroll down to where it says Comments. Click. Write something. Anything. Tell me how much your unorganized life needs a little lovin' from George. Hit Publish. It's that simple. Make sure you can see your published comment before you leave though - it might take another hit of the ol' Enter button to get through.
You and George are really going to hit it off, I promise. He's the Cary Grant of planners, I'm telling you.
Here's the scoop:
There are lots of planning options out there. I've done everything from the sticky pad method to the laminated index card method to the day planner method to the fly by the seat of my pants method. Lucky for me, I got my very own Well Planned Day planner to use and test and fill out and play with and hug and kiss and name George! I know. It's a perk. I wuv them.
George might be intimidating to those of us who are used to organizing our homeschool by shouting for pencils, frantically renewing library books online, and trying to remember if we loved a particular math program or hated it. You mean, plan things out and then stick to them? What is this nuttiness of which I speak?
Don't get me wrong. I love organizing things. I love routine. And I'm quite unabashedly punctual. But homeschool schedules and I are like mortal enemies. Mostly because when I fail at something - which I will do and probably on the second day of school - or we don't get to a particular subject, then I feel like a big, fat loser. But here's the thing: with George it's easy to go back in and rework something! No trying to erase the entire month of September in Sharpie. Not that I've ever done that. Ahem.
Each student gets their own section and you can fully customize it. This is going to be extra fun for my preteen tech-y wiz, who loves a good schedule, likes to write her own, and adores "looking up" things on the computer.
George doesn't stop there. There are budgeting areas, meal planning, chores, all sorts of things! It's NOT just for homeschooling...
I can't even begin to tell you how cool it is, so you should probably do what I did, and watch this tutorial:
http://vimeopro.com/homeeducatingfamily/my-well-planned-day-live-qanda-session/video/46687089
Isn't Rebecca's voice soothing? It's as if you can hear her say in between the lines, you can do this...you are a stellar calculus teacher...you CAN teach phonics...and you look gorgeous in those pajamas...
For my lovely pajama-ed readers, you can use this code, 07wpdblog12, to get $15 off the price of the $65 planner! Offer expires October 1.
If that wasn't neat enough, you can now enter the big give away, cross your fingers, and wish on a star for your very own FREE Well Planned Day...(and you can name him/her whatever you want...Archibald, Princess Peach, Grisabella, Twinkletoes, Sneezy, Mr. Darcy, Zuzu, George II, George Jr....)
Good luck!
Due to international sweepstakes laws, this giveaway is for US entries only.
This giveaway is not connected to any social media site.
It's always good form to do some "liking" on Facebook, become a follower, sign up for subscriptions, leave comments telling you you love me and will never leave me, and mail me cookies, but those are entirely optional and will have no bearing on the winner. Except for the cookies. Cookies will up your chances of winning.
So don't wait! Do it now! Leave a comment (or twelve. Come on, show us how bad you want this!) and you've officially entered! Scroll down to where it says Comments. Click. Write something. Anything. Tell me how much your unorganized life needs a little lovin' from George. Hit Publish. It's that simple. Make sure you can see your published comment before you leave though - it might take another hit of the ol' Enter button to get through.
You and George are really going to hit it off, I promise. He's the Cary Grant of planners, I'm telling you.
August 6, 2012
Health Plan Promise!
Yesterday, I went running. I had been realizing for quite some time, that I am not the svelte, thin, non-jiggly woman I once was. My body hurts all the time anyway, from too much ballet and too many births, so I figured, maybe I should be sore for a reason. You know? Like from working out.
I convinced Mike to go with me, and part of the reason was for him. He had gone twice with Cora this week and I didn't want him to ruin his streak. So, despite the fact that it was a mere 94 degrees, I strapped on my sports bra and tennies and off we went!
It was so great. I could literally FEEL the fat melting off me. I totally found my rhythm and I could sense that I was getting stronger. Runners say you just have to hit your stride and there I was! The way there was pretty tough, but by the time we turned around, I was really pounding the pavement and my heart was singing its new health song. I could even envision the future:
Me, in nothing but a sports top and short shorts. I'd be tan and toned and even the eighteen year olds would look at me with envy! Mike would be fit and buff, and we'd be the motivation of middle aged frumps everywhere! We'd be ADDICTED to this running stuff, like all those other ADDICTED runners we know!
HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA!!!!!!!!
No, really. It sucked. I never want to do it again. My shins were splintering into a thousand pieces, my face was egg plant colored, I had sweat running down the twins, my toes felt like they'd be hit repeatedly with a hammer, and I had an instant migraine the likes of which I'd never had since New Years Eve 1999 when I was pregnant with Cora and thought I was going to die from the disco lights in my head.
Those feelings cannot possibly be good for my health and I quit.
If you ever see me running again, it is because someone is chasing me with a bloody cleaver and you should intervene.
I remain,
your chubby friend,
me.
I convinced Mike to go with me, and part of the reason was for him. He had gone twice with Cora this week and I didn't want him to ruin his streak. So, despite the fact that it was a mere 94 degrees, I strapped on my sports bra and tennies and off we went!
It was so great. I could literally FEEL the fat melting off me. I totally found my rhythm and I could sense that I was getting stronger. Runners say you just have to hit your stride and there I was! The way there was pretty tough, but by the time we turned around, I was really pounding the pavement and my heart was singing its new health song. I could even envision the future:
Me, in nothing but a sports top and short shorts. I'd be tan and toned and even the eighteen year olds would look at me with envy! Mike would be fit and buff, and we'd be the motivation of middle aged frumps everywhere! We'd be ADDICTED to this running stuff, like all those other ADDICTED runners we know!
HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA!!!!!!!!
No, really. It sucked. I never want to do it again. My shins were splintering into a thousand pieces, my face was egg plant colored, I had sweat running down the twins, my toes felt like they'd be hit repeatedly with a hammer, and I had an instant migraine the likes of which I'd never had since New Years Eve 1999 when I was pregnant with Cora and thought I was going to die from the disco lights in my head.
Those feelings cannot possibly be good for my health and I quit.
If you ever see me running again, it is because someone is chasing me with a bloody cleaver and you should intervene.
I remain,
your chubby friend,
me.
August 5, 2012
Notes to Weird Mothers
Mothers are weird. Not just I-have-barf-on-my-shirt-and-I-don't-care weird, but weird in other ways.
Ways like:
Sacrifice. I don't mean I'm giving up my glamorous day job as a model to stay home and check the newly potty trained toddler's briefs for racing stripes, if you know what I mean, but sacrifice as in, everything I do revolves/involves/is for my kids. Everything I do. That's right. And there's no Bryan Addams or Kevin Costner in tights either. Just me. Even the coffee I drink is for them. For their safety and well being. We sacrifice and dedicate and breathe for them.
And we like it.
Don't you find that weird?
I LIKE working an extra shift so I can buy snow cones at the corner snow cone hut once a week. (Yes, this kind of crazy spending involves strategic planning. Maybe you have jiggle room in your budget for snow cones, Nikes, or paying the utility bill. I do not).
I LIKE not buying myself a gym membership to whip my sorry patooty into shape so that I can afford swim lessons for the little tyke. I'm just going to name my muffin top, Gloria, and learn to love her, for she is squishy and quite dependable, even if she doesn't look good in mid-rise jeans anymore.
I LIKE using Suave shampoo instead of salon brands so that I can afford the organic milk, with which they will use on their organic cereal, leave on the table, and end up washing it down the sink anyway. That milk.
I LIKE spending my only day off sitting in the scorching heat while my pre-teen swims at a meet/middler has a dance recital/toddler takes over the playground.
I LIKE driving the minivan I said I'd never drive back in 2005 because it has room for my kids, plus their rowdy friends, instead of the Jeep Wrangler I only lust after slightly.
I LIKE learning new ways to hide the squash/zucchini/sweet potatoes in the nightly goulash.
I LIKE eating everybody else's leftover crusts of bread and calling it my breakfast.
I LIKE playing Star Wars Go-Fish twenty times a day and letting him win only sometimes.
I LIKE the sound of Spongebob Square Pants in the background while I cook dinner. For Sponge Bob is light hearted and makes me smile in spite of myself.
I LIKE pickles and cheese for lunch because there's only enough lunch meat left for one sandwich and someone will probably graciously save me the crusts anyway.
I LIKE knowing that someday my house will be clean and white and spotless, but also quiet and boring, and at the same time, hopefully not too miles away, my grandkids will be pooping and shouting and barfing and throwing fits in the craft aisle. I LIKE knowing that at those moments, my kids will be thinking, "I love my mom - how did she DO this? I'm going nuts!" and I will send them silent prayers of support and understanding, while I eat croissants and chocolate.
I LIKE that while my days are long and sometimes the same over and over, like Groundhog Day, but without the humor sometimes, the years are long and these child raising times are like childhood: gone all too quickly, never to come back.
So while I can, I sacrifice a little, Gloria and I. All too soon, we'll be alone and have plenty of time to go to the gym, eat a whole sandwich, and plate the zucchini lovingly on a crystal platter instead of hiding it in the creamy chicken casserole.
Until then, I'll just be weird.
Ways like:
Sacrifice. I don't mean I'm giving up my glamorous day job as a model to stay home and check the newly potty trained toddler's briefs for racing stripes, if you know what I mean, but sacrifice as in, everything I do revolves/involves/is for my kids. Everything I do. That's right. And there's no Bryan Addams or Kevin Costner in tights either. Just me. Even the coffee I drink is for them. For their safety and well being. We sacrifice and dedicate and breathe for them.
And we like it.
Don't you find that weird?
I LIKE working an extra shift so I can buy snow cones at the corner snow cone hut once a week. (Yes, this kind of crazy spending involves strategic planning. Maybe you have jiggle room in your budget for snow cones, Nikes, or paying the utility bill. I do not).
I LIKE not buying myself a gym membership to whip my sorry patooty into shape so that I can afford swim lessons for the little tyke. I'm just going to name my muffin top, Gloria, and learn to love her, for she is squishy and quite dependable, even if she doesn't look good in mid-rise jeans anymore.
I LIKE using Suave shampoo instead of salon brands so that I can afford the organic milk, with which they will use on their organic cereal, leave on the table, and end up washing it down the sink anyway. That milk.
I LIKE spending my only day off sitting in the scorching heat while my pre-teen swims at a meet/middler has a dance recital/toddler takes over the playground.
I LIKE driving the minivan I said I'd never drive back in 2005 because it has room for my kids, plus their rowdy friends, instead of the Jeep Wrangler I only lust after slightly.
I LIKE learning new ways to hide the squash/zucchini/sweet potatoes in the nightly goulash.
I LIKE eating everybody else's leftover crusts of bread and calling it my breakfast.
I LIKE playing Star Wars Go-Fish twenty times a day and letting him win only sometimes.
I LIKE the sound of Spongebob Square Pants in the background while I cook dinner. For Sponge Bob is light hearted and makes me smile in spite of myself.
I LIKE pickles and cheese for lunch because there's only enough lunch meat left for one sandwich and someone will probably graciously save me the crusts anyway.
I LIKE knowing that someday my house will be clean and white and spotless, but also quiet and boring, and at the same time, hopefully not too miles away, my grandkids will be pooping and shouting and barfing and throwing fits in the craft aisle. I LIKE knowing that at those moments, my kids will be thinking, "I love my mom - how did she DO this? I'm going nuts!" and I will send them silent prayers of support and understanding, while I eat croissants and chocolate.
I LIKE that while my days are long and sometimes the same over and over, like Groundhog Day, but without the humor sometimes, the years are long and these child raising times are like childhood: gone all too quickly, never to come back.
So while I can, I sacrifice a little, Gloria and I. All too soon, we'll be alone and have plenty of time to go to the gym, eat a whole sandwich, and plate the zucchini lovingly on a crystal platter instead of hiding it in the creamy chicken casserole.
Until then, I'll just be weird.
August 3, 2012
Whenever I see Bela Karolyi....I think of Benny Hill, the...
Whenever I see Bela Karolyi
....I think of Benny Hill, the toy maker from Vulgaria
Every.
Single.
Olympics.
....I think of Benny Hill, the toy maker from Vulgaria
Every.
Single.
Olympics.
August 1, 2012
Getting Down With Your Crafty Self
Every once in a while, I get down with my crafty, bad self (bad being the key word). I used to be quite crafty...before I had tiny human beings who sucked away my creativity along with most of my brain cells.
I could draw, I could paint, I could sketch, I could sew. I could also put my legs behind my head, so I guess most of my talents are kapoot.
Now I'm lucky if I don't super glue my fingers together or sew all my arm holes closed. I made Milo a dog bed the other day and I was so distracted by the three ring circus around me, I put the buttons on the wrong side. No way was I gonna rip em off and start over because I have the Universe's Smallest Needles and I didn't want to thread them again. Besides, it's not as if he has thumbs with which to button.
Lick thread...squint...poke...miss...trim thread...drop needle...lick thread...squint...draw blood...lose button...
But if it's super easy, we're talking mega simple, and CHEAP, I just may get out the ol' hot glue gun, and go nuts.
Did I mention cheap? I heart cheap. You're talking to a person who literally has a shoelace in her hair as a headband at this moment. This is how cheap I am today:
I needed a scrap of lace and surprisingly, had none. Not the teensiest bit. Not a smidge. Not even a tad bit of lace ribbon. I had seen something on pinterest with a empty picture frame (of which I have several that languish sadly in my cupboard because my hubby called them creepy hanging on the wall). Behind the picture frame is either ribbons of lace, or just lace. This lace is perfect for earrings. I used a mixture of nails and fabric glue to stick it into place. I also may or may not have glued my fingers together.
I also needed something for my necklace collection. I took the largest frame and hammered in a bunch of nails. This looked terrible when done, I confess. But once hung on the wall and adorned with necklaces, it looked super cool!
Wait. I was talking about cheap lace. So, anyway, I went to Goodwill, my home away from home, and when I refused to spend the $2.99 they wanted for a lace table runner, I snagged a lacy baby girl's dress for .99 . Voila!
Pardon the cell phone pictures. I still have no camera - hence the phone shots, sent to Facebook, then downloaded.
Here's the earring one:
And here are the two of them together. They're getting along great.
I could draw, I could paint, I could sketch, I could sew. I could also put my legs behind my head, so I guess most of my talents are kapoot.
Now I'm lucky if I don't super glue my fingers together or sew all my arm holes closed. I made Milo a dog bed the other day and I was so distracted by the three ring circus around me, I put the buttons on the wrong side. No way was I gonna rip em off and start over because I have the Universe's Smallest Needles and I didn't want to thread them again. Besides, it's not as if he has thumbs with which to button.
Lick thread...squint...poke...miss...trim thread...drop needle...lick thread...squint...draw blood...lose button...
But if it's super easy, we're talking mega simple, and CHEAP, I just may get out the ol' hot glue gun, and go nuts.
Did I mention cheap? I heart cheap. You're talking to a person who literally has a shoelace in her hair as a headband at this moment. This is how cheap I am today:
I needed a scrap of lace and surprisingly, had none. Not the teensiest bit. Not a smidge. Not even a tad bit of lace ribbon. I had seen something on pinterest with a empty picture frame (of which I have several that languish sadly in my cupboard because my hubby called them creepy hanging on the wall). Behind the picture frame is either ribbons of lace, or just lace. This lace is perfect for earrings. I used a mixture of nails and fabric glue to stick it into place. I also may or may not have glued my fingers together.
I also needed something for my necklace collection. I took the largest frame and hammered in a bunch of nails. This looked terrible when done, I confess. But once hung on the wall and adorned with necklaces, it looked super cool!
Wait. I was talking about cheap lace. So, anyway, I went to Goodwill, my home away from home, and when I refused to spend the $2.99 they wanted for a lace table runner, I snagged a lacy baby girl's dress for .99 . Voila!
Pardon the cell phone pictures. I still have no camera - hence the phone shots, sent to Facebook, then downloaded.
Here's the earring one:
And here are the two of them together. They're getting along great.
July 31, 2012
Top Parenting Tips
Once upon a time, I started blogging on a different site. It was free for a limited time, I got a lot of spam comments, and then the whole site went up for sale. I don't think they exist anymore. Anyway, this was back before I could do wayyyyy technologically advanced things like copy and paste, so instead of transferring my old stuff over to blogger, I just deleted everything. Long story short, one of my most popular posts was something like this:
TOP TECHNIQUES TO PARENTING
1. "The Disappointed Look." This is useful for when you need to pack your kid's bags and take them on a guilt trip. It only works for sensitive souls though. Actually, it doesn't really work at all, but we still use it frequently. You can partner it with a long, drawn out sigh. Maybe squeeze a few tears if you can, but don't try too hard. Kids can smell manipulation, just like they can smell fear. The only child of mine that The Disappointed Look works on, is Anna. Sometimes I shake my head sorrowfully to go along with it. She immediately starts yelling, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't really eat my green beans - look! I'm eating them now! I'm SORRY!"
2. "The Furry Hand of Discipline." This was is a misnomer. I think once Mike gently tried to explain to his little angels the term, the firm hand of discipline. It didn't go over well since they burst out laughing and shouted, "the furry hand! Not the furry hand! aaagh!" To this day, we still call it the furry hand of discipline, and we picture it like Grover's blue hand coming out of the blue to strike fear and obedience into the hearts of little sinners everywhere.
Unless your kid has a fear of blue muppets though, this probably isn't the most effective threat. Which leads me to my next technique:
3. "The Idle Threat." This technique is as old as time. Eve probably used it on Cain and Abel, and look how - um, never mind. Bad example. But we can't seem to stop ourselves as parents with this one. We know we have to NOT let little Sue slide with whatever naughtiness she is currently involved in, but we really don't feel like full-on parenting at the moment. So we idly say something like,
Stop these shenanigans immediately or I will cancel Christmas!
Sometimes it's not that scary or over the top. Sometimes it's something like,
Stop these shenanigans immediately or I will come in there, so help me, God!
Either way, we're lying and we're not canceling anything or getting off the couch.
4. "Talking Them Half to Death" or "Preaching." This is especially effective with teenagers. They will do anything, ANYTHING, to get you to stop preaching. Even delete bad songs off their Ipods. Even if Lil' Wayne is the only one who understands them.
I'll leave you with some great parenting quotes. If you know of any others, or have one yourself, leave em in the comments! (and admire my copying and pasting skillz, will ya?!)
A child is a curly dimpled lunatic.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
No one ever died from sleeping in an unmade bed. I have known mothers who remake the bed after their children do it because there is wrinkle in the spread or the blanket is on crooked. This is sick.
Erma Bombeck
My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first one being hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint.
Erma again
Most children threaten at times to run away from home. This is the only thing that keeps some parents going.
Phyllis Diller
The most remarkable thing about my mother is that for thirty years she served the family nothing but leftovers. The original meal has never been found."
Calvin Trillin
To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.
Oscar Wilde
Even very young children need to be informed about dying. Explain the concept of death very carefully to your child. This will make threatening him with it much more effective.
P. J. O'Rourke
TOP TECHNIQUES TO PARENTING
1. "The Disappointed Look." This is useful for when you need to pack your kid's bags and take them on a guilt trip. It only works for sensitive souls though. Actually, it doesn't really work at all, but we still use it frequently. You can partner it with a long, drawn out sigh. Maybe squeeze a few tears if you can, but don't try too hard. Kids can smell manipulation, just like they can smell fear. The only child of mine that The Disappointed Look works on, is Anna. Sometimes I shake my head sorrowfully to go along with it. She immediately starts yelling, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't really eat my green beans - look! I'm eating them now! I'm SORRY!"
2. "The Furry Hand of Discipline." This was is a misnomer. I think once Mike gently tried to explain to his little angels the term, the firm hand of discipline. It didn't go over well since they burst out laughing and shouted, "the furry hand! Not the furry hand! aaagh!" To this day, we still call it the furry hand of discipline, and we picture it like Grover's blue hand coming out of the blue to strike fear and obedience into the hearts of little sinners everywhere.
Unless your kid has a fear of blue muppets though, this probably isn't the most effective threat. Which leads me to my next technique:
3. "The Idle Threat." This technique is as old as time. Eve probably used it on Cain and Abel, and look how - um, never mind. Bad example. But we can't seem to stop ourselves as parents with this one. We know we have to NOT let little Sue slide with whatever naughtiness she is currently involved in, but we really don't feel like full-on parenting at the moment. So we idly say something like,
Stop these shenanigans immediately or I will cancel Christmas!
Sometimes it's not that scary or over the top. Sometimes it's something like,
Stop these shenanigans immediately or I will come in there, so help me, God!
Either way, we're lying and we're not canceling anything or getting off the couch.
4. "Talking Them Half to Death" or "Preaching." This is especially effective with teenagers. They will do anything, ANYTHING, to get you to stop preaching. Even delete bad songs off their Ipods. Even if Lil' Wayne is the only one who understands them.
I'll leave you with some great parenting quotes. If you know of any others, or have one yourself, leave em in the comments! (and admire my copying and pasting skillz, will ya?!)
A child is a curly dimpled lunatic.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
No one ever died from sleeping in an unmade bed. I have known mothers who remake the bed after their children do it because there is wrinkle in the spread or the blanket is on crooked. This is sick.
Erma Bombeck
My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first one being hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint.
Erma again
Most children threaten at times to run away from home. This is the only thing that keeps some parents going.
Phyllis Diller
The most remarkable thing about my mother is that for thirty years she served the family nothing but leftovers. The original meal has never been found."
Calvin Trillin
To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.
Oscar Wilde
Even very young children need to be informed about dying. Explain the concept of death very carefully to your child. This will make threatening him with it much more effective.
P. J. O'Rourke
July 26, 2012
I love throwing stuff away
My garage is calling me. It's saying,
Come get these free craigslist chairs you acquired last year and put them out on the curb.
If I obey the call, I can get to the important stuff in there - like my box of sewing supplies, the kid's off season clothing, and the contraband supply of Hagan Daaz in my freezer.
Truer words were never spoken.
Anyway, one of the best feelings in the world (okay, yes, that's an exaggeration. There are probably better feelings: feeding orphans, saving lives, winning the lottery, a really good sneeze, eating secret ice cream, etc) is the feeling I get when I throw things away.
Not only do I love shopping at the Goodwill, but I love having a pile of stuff to give to the Goodwill. This is recycling at its finest.
It works for toys too. Want that ridiculous, overpriced piece of junk, do you? Okay, but you'll have to give away two ridiculous, overpriced pieces of junk out of your exploding bedroom, kid. Win, win.
Today, I threw out an empty shampoo bottle and a very nearly empty bottle of conditioner. I probably could have added some water in there, shook it around, and had enough to rinse my curly locks with, but I was feeling giddy with the thrill of throwing things out. This gave me opportunity - nay, NEED - to replace them with two shiny new bottles. Which, if you're a girl, is super exciting. Or maybe I don't get out much. Don't rain on my parade. I like products.
As much as I like em though, I limit myself. Once upon a marriage, Mike had this in our shower:
A bottle of Suave shampoo.
A dull razor.
And I had in the same shower:
Apricot scrub.
Four half empty bottles of shampoo.
Regular conditioner.
Deep conditioner.
Leave in conditioner.
Conditioner that didn't work well, but smelled great.
Conditioner that didn't smell great, but worked well.
Two razors. (I dunno why, stop interrogating me!)
Make up remover.
Face mask.
Shave cream.
Body scrub.
Soap.
Homemade oatmeal facial exfoliating scrub.
Apple cider vinegar for rinsing.
A book for baths.
Bubble bath.
Candles.
Nail clippers.
Tooth brush.
Anyhoo, a few years later, and I think I've gotten better. We can now move a fraction of an inch without causing a domino effect. Now I have:
One shampoo.
One conditioner.
One body wash that I don't actually use, but someone gave me and it looks cute sitting there.
One razor.
Soap.
Small bottle of olive oil for removing make up.
Speaking of showers, does anyone else do this:
You're showering, minding your own business, singing television theme songs from the eighties and nineties, and everything's fine, all's good, the kids wander in and out, the dog walks by, yada yada. Then you go to wash your face and have to close your eyes. Instant mental imagery of a ax murderer outside the shower curtain.
No? Just me? Never mind. Forget I said anything.
So, the point is, throw something away today. You'll be glad you did.
P.S. If you need a place to start, think under the sinks. Kitchen, bathroom, it doesn't matter. Odds are there are things under there you DO NOT NEED. No one needs six different kinds of cleaners or seven bottles of body lotion you didn't like anyway, or three deodorants that didn't work for you, or candles with the wicks lost inside the wax. Throw it all out! Really. You're going to feel so much better. Today, the under the sink cabinets, tomorrow the garage!
Come get these free craigslist chairs you acquired last year and put them out on the curb.
If I obey the call, I can get to the important stuff in there - like my box of sewing supplies, the kid's off season clothing, and the contraband supply of Hagan Daaz in my freezer.
Truer words were never spoken.
Anyway, one of the best feelings in the world (okay, yes, that's an exaggeration. There are probably better feelings: feeding orphans, saving lives, winning the lottery, a really good sneeze, eating secret ice cream, etc) is the feeling I get when I throw things away.
Not only do I love shopping at the Goodwill, but I love having a pile of stuff to give to the Goodwill. This is recycling at its finest.
It works for toys too. Want that ridiculous, overpriced piece of junk, do you? Okay, but you'll have to give away two ridiculous, overpriced pieces of junk out of your exploding bedroom, kid. Win, win.
Today, I threw out an empty shampoo bottle and a very nearly empty bottle of conditioner. I probably could have added some water in there, shook it around, and had enough to rinse my curly locks with, but I was feeling giddy with the thrill of throwing things out. This gave me opportunity - nay, NEED - to replace them with two shiny new bottles. Which, if you're a girl, is super exciting. Or maybe I don't get out much. Don't rain on my parade. I like products.
As much as I like em though, I limit myself. Once upon a marriage, Mike had this in our shower:
A bottle of Suave shampoo.
A dull razor.
And I had in the same shower:
Apricot scrub.
Four half empty bottles of shampoo.
Regular conditioner.
Deep conditioner.
Leave in conditioner.
Conditioner that didn't work well, but smelled great.
Conditioner that didn't smell great, but worked well.
Two razors. (I dunno why, stop interrogating me!)
Make up remover.
Face mask.
Shave cream.
Body scrub.
Soap.
Homemade oatmeal facial exfoliating scrub.
Apple cider vinegar for rinsing.
A book for baths.
Bubble bath.
Candles.
Nail clippers.
Tooth brush.
Anyhoo, a few years later, and I think I've gotten better. We can now move a fraction of an inch without causing a domino effect. Now I have:
One shampoo.
One conditioner.
One body wash that I don't actually use, but someone gave me and it looks cute sitting there.
One razor.
Soap.
Small bottle of olive oil for removing make up.
Speaking of showers, does anyone else do this:
You're showering, minding your own business, singing television theme songs from the eighties and nineties, and everything's fine, all's good, the kids wander in and out, the dog walks by, yada yada. Then you go to wash your face and have to close your eyes. Instant mental imagery of a ax murderer outside the shower curtain.
No? Just me? Never mind. Forget I said anything.
So, the point is, throw something away today. You'll be glad you did.
P.S. If you need a place to start, think under the sinks. Kitchen, bathroom, it doesn't matter. Odds are there are things under there you DO NOT NEED. No one needs six different kinds of cleaners or seven bottles of body lotion you didn't like anyway, or three deodorants that didn't work for you, or candles with the wicks lost inside the wax. Throw it all out! Really. You're going to feel so much better. Today, the under the sink cabinets, tomorrow the garage!
July 23, 2012
Gianni Be Good (Part Two)
Don't let the charming Ferris Bueller impression throw you.
Or the innocent toothless grin.
This kid has shenanigans down to a science.An evil science.The kind with splattered lab coats and twirly swirly mustaches.
Today? I caught him with his pet chicken, CurlyFurly II. But he wasn't lovin' up on said chickie, no, no. He was spinning her around by her tail feathers like this:
The poor chickens aren't ever going to lay. They're too stressed out. And who could blame them?
Not I, said the little red hen.
So, remember, when you see a cute little boy named Gianni coming your way, don't be fooled by his sweet smile and offer to cuddle.Cuz sometimes I look outside and this is what I see:
My only guess is that he knows just how rotten to the core he can be, and in order to save mankind, he periodically ties himself to the garden hose, wearing nothing but his jammies and rain boots.
Please.Whatever you do.Don't untie him.
And pray for the livestock.Amen.
