I'm happy to announce that Mr. Wonderful successfully changed the battery in his truck without incident...unless you count sparks shooting from the battery terminal! Apparently, he was under the impression that I was an expert in the "changing a car battery" field since I have changed my own a couple of times and advised him on how to get his out. So he asked me if it mattered which order the cables were hooked back up. To which I responded...uhhhhh...I don't think so...just put 'em back on. Are you sure? No, but just try it! (I'm cracking up just telling the story now....please be advised to swallow anything you might have in your mouth at this moment before reading further.) He wanders back off to the garage with the utmost confidence in my terminal advice. Two minutes later, over the dishwasher running, through the laundry room and kitchen, into the living room, I catch the faint sound of his voice, in a panic, screaming "MMMMMMMMMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNN!" "MMMMMMMMMMMMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!"
Thinking the worst, I'm on a dead sprint to the garage (which isn't an easy task when the "girls" aren't confined) to find him standing there, with panic in his eyes and breathing heavily. He says to me "I thought you said it didn't matter which cable went on first. When I put the red one on first, then tried the black one, sparks flew everywhere, I thought I was going to catch the truck on fire!" From a battery spark? OK. Try it the other way, I just remembered my dad always told me "smoke before fire" when changing car battery (wince) (giggle)...His response..."NO FUCKING SHIT SHERLOCK! THANKS FOR THE HELP! " Surprisingly, he was laughing when he said it and was in a good mood the rest of the day.
Side note: I didn't let him being home ruin my cleaning plans...my house was clean and scrubbed by 1pm and I was able to watch Days and read blogs as planned...made it to the bank and Wally-hell and back before dinner! As an added bonus, I didn't have to drag three screaming, hot, nit-picking at each other, kids along with me...BONUS! Maybe Mr. Wonderful working from home isn't so bad afterall, it does have it's advantages!
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Mechanically challenged...
One would think that after 12+ years in a relationship that one would not be surprised by the other's inability to "fix" things...
My plan to get up early, knock out the cleaning duties before kids woke and started wreaking havoc, run to Wally-hell for a few birthday party items, and back in time to watch days and read blogs the rest of the afternoon have been SHOT! Mr. Wonderful walks out to leave for work and comes right back in with "guess I'm working from home today...battery is dead...that's what that clicking sound is when I turn the key, right?" Yeah, normally.
30 min and a plethora of obscenities later...I can't get the bleeeep bleeeep bleeeepin' battery out of the bleeeeep bleeeeeeeeeepin' truck (too early to cuss). He continues on about how the manual is "800 pages long and no where does it tell you how to get the bleeep bleeep bleeep bleeepin battery out". So I asked if he needed my help. "I don't know...!" I followed him to the garage. While he is flipping through owners manual, I'm like did you try taking this bolt off that is holding the battery in? "I can't can't get to the bleep bleep bleepin thing." Did you try a ratchet? Mr. Wonderful fuming by this point proceeds to find a ratchet and struggles with finding the right size socket, huffed when I told him 3/8 and it worked had the battery out in a matter of 2 minutes, after I had to tell him I thought he was tightening instead of loosening. The old righty tighty, lefty loosey.
So Mr. Wonderful headed off to Wally-hell to get a new battery. We will see how he does getting the battery back in...update to come!
My plan to get up early, knock out the cleaning duties before kids woke and started wreaking havoc, run to Wally-hell for a few birthday party items, and back in time to watch days and read blogs the rest of the afternoon have been SHOT! Mr. Wonderful walks out to leave for work and comes right back in with "guess I'm working from home today...battery is dead...that's what that clicking sound is when I turn the key, right?" Yeah, normally.
30 min and a plethora of obscenities later...I can't get the bleeeep bleeeep bleeeepin' battery out of the bleeeeep bleeeeeeeeeepin' truck (too early to cuss). He continues on about how the manual is "800 pages long and no where does it tell you how to get the bleeep bleeep bleeep bleeepin battery out". So I asked if he needed my help. "I don't know...!" I followed him to the garage. While he is flipping through owners manual, I'm like did you try taking this bolt off that is holding the battery in? "I can't can't get to the bleep bleep bleepin thing." Did you try a ratchet? Mr. Wonderful fuming by this point proceeds to find a ratchet and struggles with finding the right size socket, huffed when I told him 3/8 and it worked had the battery out in a matter of 2 minutes, after I had to tell him I thought he was tightening instead of loosening. The old righty tighty, lefty loosey.
So Mr. Wonderful headed off to Wally-hell to get a new battery. We will see how he does getting the battery back in...update to come!
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Tattles in my jar...
I started a "tattle jar" for my little darlin's a couple of weeks ago. It has been quite the miracle tool around here and my sanity is still hanging on by a thread!
The "tattle jar" itself came about last year when I taught 4th grade. After the first couple of weeks, I quickly realized that at that age EVERYTHING is a big deal and I apparently NEEDED to know about it. I had to put on my creative thinking cap or pull out my hair...and I eventually came up with a "tattle jar". (I'm sure I have read about this or something similar in my adventures, but the when and where have escaped me over the years.)
This is how it works...I provide "tattle jar", paper squares, and writing utensil. You write your "tattles" on the paper and date it. You can sign it if you want, but signing is not required. (I could easily recognize handwriting, but they didn't know that!) "Tattles" get read on Friday at 4pm. (Yes, school was already dismissed! Genius, I know! ) I also gave the guideline that if someone was hurt or in danger or if it was something really serious or borderlining serious, I needed to know immediately. Not to hesitate to tell me anything they felt needed my attention right away. (I could always refer them to the "tattle jar" if it need be.) They were also free to put tattles into the jar at anytime unless I was giving instructions, then it had to wait. I also made it very clear that I would be the only one to read them and no one else had permission to touch anything inside the jar....DEPOSIT ONLY! (Security factor is very important!) Unless there was an issue that needed addressed, tattles were never read or discussed in class.
This worked like a gem! The first couple of weeks the kids were like Mexican jumping beans and waiting in line to drop a tattle. In fact, there were days I had to read and empty the jar after school, it was too full to wait until Friday to read. After the newness wore off and the kids were actually able to SEE how many tattles were being dropped in the jar, the number of tattles dramatically decreased and eventually stopped and the ones I was being told were the ones that really needed addressed. Mission accomplished!
End of second week of summer break, my little darlin's were running to me every two minutes with he did this and she did that and....AAAAAKKKKKKK!!! STOP! (Think....think....what can I do?.....AH HA!! TATTLE JAR!) Sure enough, it worked like a charm once again!
First day out that sucker was filled within three hours. Monster man even had a couple in there! Right now, the jar sits empty with paper and pen collecting dust. I had a few trickle in last week, but the volume has diminished and the kids have realized that the effort involved isn't worth it (at least I hope). I have reminded them a time or two, when they come to me with the occasional she did this or he did that, the "proper way" to handle tattles unless someone is bleeding, but for the most part it deters the tattling!
I feel the need to share those "tattles" because, quite honestly, they make me smile when I read them! It truly captures the innocence of childhood, I wish these were the only problems I had to deal with....
(Please note, these are actual spellings.)
A= oldest child
B= middle child
H= monster man
Tattles from oldest child (11):
H kicked me in the arm.
H won't get out of our room after you told him to get out.
Shanook (alaskan malamute) barked at me. (she has my sense of humor)
We asked H to stop making his phteradactal toy make noise but he won't.
H won't quit making his bird squak.
H called me a little liar.
H includes himself in everyone's buisness. It's annoying. (my favorite)
H stole a thing of change from me last year.
H is trying to get us to play the DS after you told us not to.
Tattles from middle child (10 in two weeks, can't spell worth a hooey):
H blocked the stairs and made me hit my elbow.
H pocked me in the eye with a card.
H took a tiny grape said"you can't have it." ate it and ran off. (ROFL)
I was talking and H know it and he made his dinsor go off.
H played electronics.
H lied.
Starting to see a pattern?
Tattles from Monster Man (6):
A lied.
A my stupid. (translation...A called me stupid.)
A tutid in my face. (translation...A tooted in my face. I found out later that middle child spelled "tutid" for him. :)
I hope this helps some other mom whose ears are burning and hair is turning gray and nerves are shot from filtering all those tattles! Oh, one more thing...make sure you label it "TATTLE JAR", decorate it with kids help, and place it where all can reach (and SEE). It's always fun to hear the kids explain to family members and friends what the tattle jar is all about!
The "tattle jar" itself came about last year when I taught 4th grade. After the first couple of weeks, I quickly realized that at that age EVERYTHING is a big deal and I apparently NEEDED to know about it. I had to put on my creative thinking cap or pull out my hair...and I eventually came up with a "tattle jar". (I'm sure I have read about this or something similar in my adventures, but the when and where have escaped me over the years.)
This is how it works...I provide "tattle jar", paper squares, and writing utensil. You write your "tattles" on the paper and date it. You can sign it if you want, but signing is not required. (I could easily recognize handwriting, but they didn't know that!) "Tattles" get read on Friday at 4pm. (Yes, school was already dismissed! Genius, I know! ) I also gave the guideline that if someone was hurt or in danger or if it was something really serious or borderlining serious, I needed to know immediately. Not to hesitate to tell me anything they felt needed my attention right away. (I could always refer them to the "tattle jar" if it need be.) They were also free to put tattles into the jar at anytime unless I was giving instructions, then it had to wait. I also made it very clear that I would be the only one to read them and no one else had permission to touch anything inside the jar....DEPOSIT ONLY! (Security factor is very important!) Unless there was an issue that needed addressed, tattles were never read or discussed in class.
This worked like a gem! The first couple of weeks the kids were like Mexican jumping beans and waiting in line to drop a tattle. In fact, there were days I had to read and empty the jar after school, it was too full to wait until Friday to read. After the newness wore off and the kids were actually able to SEE how many tattles were being dropped in the jar, the number of tattles dramatically decreased and eventually stopped and the ones I was being told were the ones that really needed addressed. Mission accomplished!
End of second week of summer break, my little darlin's were running to me every two minutes with he did this and she did that and....AAAAAKKKKKKK!!! STOP! (Think....think....what can I do?.....AH HA!! TATTLE JAR!) Sure enough, it worked like a charm once again!
First day out that sucker was filled within three hours. Monster man even had a couple in there! Right now, the jar sits empty with paper and pen collecting dust. I had a few trickle in last week, but the volume has diminished and the kids have realized that the effort involved isn't worth it (at least I hope). I have reminded them a time or two, when they come to me with the occasional she did this or he did that, the "proper way" to handle tattles unless someone is bleeding, but for the most part it deters the tattling!
I feel the need to share those "tattles" because, quite honestly, they make me smile when I read them! It truly captures the innocence of childhood, I wish these were the only problems I had to deal with....
(Please note, these are actual spellings.)
A= oldest child
B= middle child
H= monster man
Tattles from oldest child (11):
H kicked me in the arm.
H won't get out of our room after you told him to get out.
Shanook (alaskan malamute) barked at me. (she has my sense of humor)
We asked H to stop making his phteradactal toy make noise but he won't.
H won't quit making his bird squak.
H called me a little liar.
H includes himself in everyone's buisness. It's annoying. (my favorite)
H stole a thing of change from me last year.
H is trying to get us to play the DS after you told us not to.
Tattles from middle child (10 in two weeks, can't spell worth a hooey):
H blocked the stairs and made me hit my elbow.
H pocked me in the eye with a card.
H took a tiny grape said"you can't have it." ate it and ran off. (ROFL)
I was talking and H know it and he made his dinsor go off.
H played electronics.
H lied.
Starting to see a pattern?
Tattles from Monster Man (6):
A lied.
A my stupid. (translation...A called me stupid.)
A tutid in my face. (translation...A tooted in my face. I found out later that middle child spelled "tutid" for him. :)
I hope this helps some other mom whose ears are burning and hair is turning gray and nerves are shot from filtering all those tattles! Oh, one more thing...make sure you label it "TATTLE JAR", decorate it with kids help, and place it where all can reach (and SEE). It's always fun to hear the kids explain to family members and friends what the tattle jar is all about!
Monday, June 23, 2008
TP for my bunghole...
Noticing we were getting low on TP, Mr. Wonderful offered to pick some up while he was out. GREAT! That saves me a trip to Wally-hell on a Saturday afternoon, have at it!
Obviously if I'm telling the story, there is a history behind TP in our household. When we met, I had always used Charmin and his mom had always used Charmin. The logical choice when buying toilet paper after we were married was Charmin, right?
After the first couple of packages, Mr. Wonderful comes to the conclusion that after wiping with Charmin for 26 years that it leaves "butt fuzzies" and he would like to try something different. The next time TP was on the list, I tried quilted Northeren and we've been using that for the past 11 years.
Imagine the shock on my face when he walked through the door with a 36 pack of Charmin!
I didn't say anything right away. In fact, I left it sit in the kitchen for a couple of hours contemplating how to approach the subject of Northeren vs Charmin.
Mr. Wonderful must have been anticipating my questioning coming because when I casually said to him, "Out of pure curiosity..." (didn't get the rest of the question out) He replied, "This is QUILTED Charmin, thought I'd give it a try, see if it has improved." OK. Didn't voice my concern of having 36 rolls worth of griping if it hadn't improved and started leaving "butt fuzzies".
Picture the scene of him coming out of the bathroom yesterday morning...scary I know...but stay with me here. He comes out exclaiming "MAN! Have you tried that new Charmin? That is some good toilet paper! It didn't leave butt fuzzies either!" I am so glad he found something positive to start his day! I'm having a hard time adjusting... I keep having squares to spare.
Obviously if I'm telling the story, there is a history behind TP in our household. When we met, I had always used Charmin and his mom had always used Charmin. The logical choice when buying toilet paper after we were married was Charmin, right?
After the first couple of packages, Mr. Wonderful comes to the conclusion that after wiping with Charmin for 26 years that it leaves "butt fuzzies" and he would like to try something different. The next time TP was on the list, I tried quilted Northeren and we've been using that for the past 11 years.
Imagine the shock on my face when he walked through the door with a 36 pack of Charmin!
I didn't say anything right away. In fact, I left it sit in the kitchen for a couple of hours contemplating how to approach the subject of Northeren vs Charmin.
Mr. Wonderful must have been anticipating my questioning coming because when I casually said to him, "Out of pure curiosity..." (didn't get the rest of the question out) He replied, "This is QUILTED Charmin, thought I'd give it a try, see if it has improved." OK. Didn't voice my concern of having 36 rolls worth of griping if it hadn't improved and started leaving "butt fuzzies".
Picture the scene of him coming out of the bathroom yesterday morning...scary I know...but stay with me here. He comes out exclaiming "MAN! Have you tried that new Charmin? That is some good toilet paper! It didn't leave butt fuzzies either!" I am so glad he found something positive to start his day! I'm having a hard time adjusting... I keep having squares to spare.
Kid funnies...
We all know kids say the darndest things...
Here are a couple from last week....
Middle Child: "Mom, my 'boulders' really hurt!" Me: "?blink?huh?" Middle Child: (opening mouth and pointing) "MY BOULDERS!!! See them clear in the back, they HURT!!"
Interpretation: boulders = molars!
Little Man: (in Wal-Mart) "MOM! CATALONE CHEESE! We are almost out! You NEED to get more catalone!" Me: "?blink?huh?" Little Man: (now pointing and raising voice) "RIGHT THERE! SEE! CATOLONE CHEESE!"
Interpretation: catalone cheese = parmesan cheese!
Little Man: (reading sight words) "FFFFFFFFFFF-EH-T" Me: (stifled snicker) "Try again honey, sound it out." Little Man: ( proud as can be) "FFFFFF-EH-EH-T! FET!" Me: "FET? So you walk on your FET? Little Man: (rolling in hysterics) "FFFFFFFFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET! I walk on my FFFFFFFFFFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET, MAMA!" (falls on floor with 'FET' in air) See my FET? (still cracking up)"
Here are a couple from last week....
Middle Child: "Mom, my 'boulders' really hurt!" Me: "?blink?huh?" Middle Child: (opening mouth and pointing) "MY BOULDERS!!! See them clear in the back, they HURT!!"
Interpretation: boulders = molars!
Little Man: (in Wal-Mart) "MOM! CATALONE CHEESE! We are almost out! You NEED to get more catalone!" Me: "?blink?huh?" Little Man: (now pointing and raising voice) "RIGHT THERE! SEE! CATOLONE CHEESE!"
Interpretation: catalone cheese = parmesan cheese!
Little Man: (reading sight words) "FFFFFFFFFFF-EH-T" Me: (stifled snicker) "Try again honey, sound it out." Little Man: ( proud as can be) "FFFFFF-EH-EH-T! FET!" Me: "FET? So you walk on your FET? Little Man: (rolling in hysterics) "FFFFFFFFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET! I walk on my FFFFFFFFFFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET, MAMA!" (falls on floor with 'FET' in air) See my FET? (still cracking up)"
Friday, June 20, 2008
Stinky Situation
Last September, I bought an awesome pair of shoes. Awesome because they were not only comfortable, but awesome because they were tennis shoes that I could pass off as dress shoes. Oh man were my feet thankful for that $40 purchase of what soon became my favorite pair of shoes!
I wore these shoes nearly everyday throughout the fall season without socks, and through the winter with socks, and throughout the spring both ways depending on weather. I wore them with skirts. I wore them with capris. I wore them with jeans and dress pants. I wore them to church and to sporting events. I even wore them on a 17 hr bus trip with 40 wild Jr. High students. They were like green eggs and ham!! I would wear them anywhere!
Needless to say by about January, my wonderful shoes started to develop a funk about them. So, I did what any other sane person in my situation would do, I washed them! I let them air dry. I sprayed them with Odo-ban. WOOHOOO! Problem solved! Well, at least until I wore them without socks again. It became a challenge to rid these shoes of odor, because I was not about to give them up! I wore them only with socks and sprayed them with Odo-ban after each use. This seemed to be working.
It worked until the weather started getting warmer and my feet were too hot to wear socks any longer. I continued to wear them, stink and all, and continued the Odo-ban therapy after each use, but the stink became worse and the inside became slippery after wearing them for a couple of hours. Yet, I was still not willing to part with these shoes! I was determined to "save" them! Yes, I washed them again. This time, I added the Odo-ban to the wash. Mission accomplished, stink gone. I knew I could bring them back from the depths of foot funk!
At least for the first two wearings without socks. This is when Mr. Wonderful tried to intervene. I had slipped off the shoes and left them in front of his dresser. Two days later, he bent over to pick up a pair of shorts to put in the hamper when his olfactory nerves were awaken from the stench coming from my favorite shoes. When I got home from work that night, he was quick to tell me following ..."I bent over to pick up my shorts and got a huge whiff of something. I didn't know what the fuck that horrible smell was, but it didn't take me long to figure out it was your fucking shoes! Please don't tell me you are STILL wearing those NASTY things! You're lucky I didn't throw those mofo's out in the trash! I damn near puked!" Of course, I did the only logical thing I could do...I laughed my ass off and tossed the shoes into the closet! I didn't wear them for at least two weeks after that. They just needed to air out!
A couple of weeks before school was out, I decided that my favorite shoes had aired out enough that I could once again wear them. I Odo-banned them the night before just for good measure. About two hours into the day, I started smelling something funky myself. The day went on and the funk got worse. Picture me sitting at my desk, sniffing the air, with a look of confusion on my face... I began digging through my bags, sure that I had missed taking out a bowl or piece of fruit or something, but couldn't find the source. I began to think that maybe a mouse had died in the wall behind me, the smell was obviously that of something dead, I was sure of it! I looked for the source all morning!
Later that day, I was in the science lab and started smelling the same funk. I thought to myself, my room is adjacent to the science lab, must be something dead in the walls. And I went on about my teaching and didn't think another thing about it until I was back in my classroom during planning period, sitting at my desk when the funk once again permeated the air around me. By this point in the day, my feet were hot and sweaty and I kicked off my shoes. That's when it hit me, damn near knocked my out of my chair, that the stench was my own feet! HOLY HELL! Why didn't someone tell me my shoes were this bad?
That's when the maintenance man walked into my room and exclaimed, "Good lord! What is that smell? You got something dead in the wall or what?" Of course, I LAUGHED!! And through the snickers and bouts of uncontrollable laughter, I finally explained to him that it wasn't anything "dead in the walls" it was actually my feet. Keep in mind he's from Louisiana...He said, there's NO WAY your feet smell THAT bad. Wrong person to say that to! I handed him my shoe. In total confidence that it was not my shoe that smelled that bad, he took a giant whiff! At this point I'm rolling out of my chair! The look on his face when his brain processed the stench was priceless. First his eyes got really big, then his face turned all shades of green while choking back a gag, then he started to sweat and his face turned red, and the poor man was speechless for about 2 minutes! Now, if anyone knows Mr. Joe, he is NEVER speechless! The only thing he could do was shake his head as he walked away. He later returned and told me that that was the WORST thing he had ever smelled...except for one. Was too afraid to ask what. I haven't worn those shoes since that day.
Now, a logically thinking person would have pitched the shoes as soon as they got home, but not me! No siree, after a month and a half the shoes are still in my closet. I picked them up the other day when I was cleaning my closet, took a cautious whiff, near gagged, pulled in insoles out and pitched them, put the shoes back in the closet(they didn't smell w/o insoles), and replaced them with some Dr. Scholl's insoles. I still haven't worn them, it's flip flop weather, but hopefully the smell problem is no longer there. If by chance it is, I will toss those and buy a new pair or maybe two!
I wore these shoes nearly everyday throughout the fall season without socks, and through the winter with socks, and throughout the spring both ways depending on weather. I wore them with skirts. I wore them with capris. I wore them with jeans and dress pants. I wore them to church and to sporting events. I even wore them on a 17 hr bus trip with 40 wild Jr. High students. They were like green eggs and ham!! I would wear them anywhere!
Needless to say by about January, my wonderful shoes started to develop a funk about them. So, I did what any other sane person in my situation would do, I washed them! I let them air dry. I sprayed them with Odo-ban. WOOHOOO! Problem solved! Well, at least until I wore them without socks again. It became a challenge to rid these shoes of odor, because I was not about to give them up! I wore them only with socks and sprayed them with Odo-ban after each use. This seemed to be working.
It worked until the weather started getting warmer and my feet were too hot to wear socks any longer. I continued to wear them, stink and all, and continued the Odo-ban therapy after each use, but the stink became worse and the inside became slippery after wearing them for a couple of hours. Yet, I was still not willing to part with these shoes! I was determined to "save" them! Yes, I washed them again. This time, I added the Odo-ban to the wash. Mission accomplished, stink gone. I knew I could bring them back from the depths of foot funk!
At least for the first two wearings without socks. This is when Mr. Wonderful tried to intervene. I had slipped off the shoes and left them in front of his dresser. Two days later, he bent over to pick up a pair of shorts to put in the hamper when his olfactory nerves were awaken from the stench coming from my favorite shoes. When I got home from work that night, he was quick to tell me following ..."I bent over to pick up my shorts and got a huge whiff of something. I didn't know what the fuck that horrible smell was, but it didn't take me long to figure out it was your fucking shoes! Please don't tell me you are STILL wearing those NASTY things! You're lucky I didn't throw those mofo's out in the trash! I damn near puked!" Of course, I did the only logical thing I could do...I laughed my ass off and tossed the shoes into the closet! I didn't wear them for at least two weeks after that. They just needed to air out!
A couple of weeks before school was out, I decided that my favorite shoes had aired out enough that I could once again wear them. I Odo-banned them the night before just for good measure. About two hours into the day, I started smelling something funky myself. The day went on and the funk got worse. Picture me sitting at my desk, sniffing the air, with a look of confusion on my face... I began digging through my bags, sure that I had missed taking out a bowl or piece of fruit or something, but couldn't find the source. I began to think that maybe a mouse had died in the wall behind me, the smell was obviously that of something dead, I was sure of it! I looked for the source all morning!
Later that day, I was in the science lab and started smelling the same funk. I thought to myself, my room is adjacent to the science lab, must be something dead in the walls. And I went on about my teaching and didn't think another thing about it until I was back in my classroom during planning period, sitting at my desk when the funk once again permeated the air around me. By this point in the day, my feet were hot and sweaty and I kicked off my shoes. That's when it hit me, damn near knocked my out of my chair, that the stench was my own feet! HOLY HELL! Why didn't someone tell me my shoes were this bad?
That's when the maintenance man walked into my room and exclaimed, "Good lord! What is that smell? You got something dead in the wall or what?" Of course, I LAUGHED!! And through the snickers and bouts of uncontrollable laughter, I finally explained to him that it wasn't anything "dead in the walls" it was actually my feet. Keep in mind he's from Louisiana...He said, there's NO WAY your feet smell THAT bad. Wrong person to say that to! I handed him my shoe. In total confidence that it was not my shoe that smelled that bad, he took a giant whiff! At this point I'm rolling out of my chair! The look on his face when his brain processed the stench was priceless. First his eyes got really big, then his face turned all shades of green while choking back a gag, then he started to sweat and his face turned red, and the poor man was speechless for about 2 minutes! Now, if anyone knows Mr. Joe, he is NEVER speechless! The only thing he could do was shake his head as he walked away. He later returned and told me that that was the WORST thing he had ever smelled...except for one. Was too afraid to ask what. I haven't worn those shoes since that day.
Now, a logically thinking person would have pitched the shoes as soon as they got home, but not me! No siree, after a month and a half the shoes are still in my closet. I picked them up the other day when I was cleaning my closet, took a cautious whiff, near gagged, pulled in insoles out and pitched them, put the shoes back in the closet(they didn't smell w/o insoles), and replaced them with some Dr. Scholl's insoles. I still haven't worn them, it's flip flop weather, but hopefully the smell problem is no longer there. If by chance it is, I will toss those and buy a new pair or maybe two!
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Mom school update
Today marks the third day of my little darlin's being in Mom school...I must say that I am a bit surprised at their response to doing school work over the summer. I totally expected kicking and screaming, especially from the youngest, but instead they are bummed when their daily assignments are complete and I tell them no more, go play! In fact, they keep asking for more.
A typical Mom school morning is up and dressed and fed by 9:30 for a bit of exercise. Cool down, drink and snack while I give instructions individually, usually started by around 10am. Older girls have journal entry/story, english, math, and science daily, and book report every two weeks. Little one has two math sheets, two color/reading sheets, daily writing practice, and one-on-one reading time. All finished by lunch time. While kids are working, mom is working on house and we have the afternoon free to do whatever we choose.
The oldest (11) is working on a quilt, middle child (9) is crocheting, little man (6) is wreaking havoc on the household (not really), and my house is getting cleaned. He is actually discovering all the fun toys he has in his room. Cutting out TV was one of the smartest things I could have done for them. They have all found ways of being creative with toys they had forgotten about, they are playing games, and putting together puzzles. It has also forced them to get along with each other.
Tattle jar was also a hit. After the first day, I have only had a couple tattles dropped in the jar and had ZERO kids running to me every five minutes to tattle. Apparently they have decided it is too much work to write down meaningless tattles. Mission accomplished!
A typical Mom school morning is up and dressed and fed by 9:30 for a bit of exercise. Cool down, drink and snack while I give instructions individually, usually started by around 10am. Older girls have journal entry/story, english, math, and science daily, and book report every two weeks. Little one has two math sheets, two color/reading sheets, daily writing practice, and one-on-one reading time. All finished by lunch time. While kids are working, mom is working on house and we have the afternoon free to do whatever we choose.
The oldest (11) is working on a quilt, middle child (9) is crocheting, little man (6) is wreaking havoc on the household (not really), and my house is getting cleaned. He is actually discovering all the fun toys he has in his room. Cutting out TV was one of the smartest things I could have done for them. They have all found ways of being creative with toys they had forgotten about, they are playing games, and putting together puzzles. It has also forced them to get along with each other.
Tattle jar was also a hit. After the first day, I have only had a couple tattles dropped in the jar and had ZERO kids running to me every five minutes to tattle. Apparently they have decided it is too much work to write down meaningless tattles. Mission accomplished!
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