Saturday, December 20, 2014

Dear Santa

I'm officially on holiday break! For two whole weeks, I'll get to be with the SP instead of with the Demon Sticks..I mean the Fish Sticks.  And DH is off for the same two weeks! All those days. Together. At home. The good news is we are in so much a better place than we were last year (emotionally, not financially) so this doesn't fill me with "Oh Gawd" like it would have once upon a time.

The point is, now I have time to recall that I used to have a  blog. Hey look, I'm back! (cue the cheers).

I thought I'd share with you some lists because I love lists.  The SP dictated hers to me as follows:

a toy sheep
a toy pig
a flyswatter (because Rabbit in the Pooh Christmas wants one and we've seen the DVD way too often)
a baby doll
a thomas train table (if she potty trains, this is a proviso I cleared with Mr. Claus himself and the man with the bag has agreed to no panties, no train table which is really a good policy for all of us)


The Diva has two lists. The real one and the fantasy one. 

The Fantasy One:

A dining table (this one in black)
all of Rainbow Rowell's books (I'm reading Eleanor & Park and love it so hard but it's gonna be sad as hell but I love it!)
a vacation (Puerto Rico, NYC, Disney, anything)
ridiculously expensive boots


The Real One:

a dust buster for spills and messes (like when I dumped a whole packet of active dry yeast on the floor this week)
a new bathroom scale (ours is broken)
socks (Tucker has eaten a lot of mine)


So, what's on YOUR list this year?

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Sweet Pea Cuteness

Blogging has been backburnered lately, I know. Apologies. I've been ghostwriting whilst trying to manage what I have privately (and with greatest affection of course) nicknamed Satan's Class. And, yeah, it CAN be that bad.

Back to the happy place, now, cause I have lots to be grateful for anyhow.

Last night, SP was watching a video about Mars with DH on his computer and I looked up from writing when she squealed, "THERE IS A OCEAN IN OUR SOLAR SYSTEM? I WOULD NOT BEE_YEEVE THAT!" and clapped her hands with great excitement about the water on one of Mars' moons or something. 

The night before that, she insisted on a PBJ at 8:20 pm after not eating her supper so I made her a sandwich, let her use the cookie cutter on it and asked where she wanted to eat it. 
On my trike, She told me.

So there she is, in the kitchen, sitting on her trike eating a sandwich and I notice my paperback of Eat Pray Love is sticking out the back trunk compartment on the trike.

I asked her why she had the book.

"Tha's my spell book. I casting SPELLS WIV IT." She informed me haughtily.

i enjoyed the hell out of that I can tell you.
Here she is giving me her annoyed look.

Think it's cute? Go buy some Plexus right now. It'll make you healthier and have more energy, plus I'll get paid so Santa can come. Guilt? Me? NEVER!

Thursday, November 6, 2014

This, I Can Fix

Parent teacher conferences are in full swing and there is not much outside working in an ER that I envision as being more stressful.

There's a lot of me apologizing. Like, "I'm sorry. I wish it were different. I've done everything possible to make it different but your child is failing/bites others/is a bully/steals from me all the time". Like, for real, HALF of my furry friends have disappeared when I've only issued three as rewards for AR points. That means they have been systematically funneled out of my room by greedy Fish Sticks who are too lazy/entitled to earn them. I can name at least three people I suspect strongly.

Monday I had to have the "I'm sorry" discussion with a guardian in which I said, you know, he has no empathy. He exhibits zero compassion, no obvious visible connection to or attachment to any other human being. Well, they kinda already knew that which made it still horrible but easier in a way.

Today that kiddo went to the counselor and came back with a happy meal i knew he was getting. He was super good about not taunting anyone with it or trying to get into it before lunch, etc. We were leaving the room for the cafeteria when Adrian, my severely hyperactive and regressive child, flailed into him and knocked his drink to the floor, spilling it completely.

Ned's face went ashy white, his lips absolutely disappearing.

You SPILLED my drink. My lunch is ruined because of YOU.

I thought, *&^% this kid is going to pound Adrian. So I grabbed him and said, hey, was that sweet tea? I can take care of this!

I ensconced him in the cafeteria and brought him a big old styrofoam cup of ice and sweet tea and I could see him physically rearrange out of fight or flight mode. I breathed a sigh of relief for myself because, while I know Adrian's behavior will cause him to run afoul of some pretty dangerous characters, today was NOT that day. Not on my watch.

Sunday, October 12, 2014

Gingerbread Madness

I have an obsessive personality which sometimes collides with Pinterest in a way that defies all logic.

When I was twelve, I went to Colonial Williamsburg. I was so taken with it that I have, by actual count, read Janet Evanovich's loveswept romance Thanksgiving four times for the simple reason that the main character works there. I love the atmosphere. I geek out over the step-back-in-time-itude of it all.

So when I ran across their official gingerbread recipe, am I going to try it? Does Bieber need a haircut? Does Starz need to put Outlander on network TV? Hell to the yeah. (Diva doesn't have cable, y'all. Or netflix. We're not Luddite, just broke.)

According to the recipe, I needed pastry flour. So, like any self respecting adult woman, I texted my mommy to ask what that was. She forwarded me an online article about how to add cornstarch to all purpose flour as a substitution so I didn't have to buy pastry flour. I got fancy and sifted the combo together and made a huge mofo of a mess on my freshly-mopped floor.

Then, I softened the butter and enlisted the Sweet Pea.

Her commentary included:

This looks like peanut butter! (it did)

Not again! (she was so done with the hand mixer because it's loud)

Look--I put it in the cup! (she smushed up freshly cut out cookies and stuffed them in the juice glass we were using to cut out two inch circles)

The recipe also maintains that the yield is 24 cookies. The ones in the picture look normal sized but in actual fact, the recipe yield makes exactly 2.8 shit-tons of gingerbread cookies.

Perhaps if I'd rolled the dough to exactly .25" thickness as directed...dude, I had a three year old standing on a  chair scooping raw flour into her mouth. This diva had shit to do and measuring dough uniformity was not on that list. So we have round cookies, mini gingerbread men, mini snowmen and some little men who came home injured from the Great War, missing limbs or with what must be a traumatic brain injury resulting in a misshapen skull.

I have a normal oven. I had to make six batches of cookies. Six batches. Which means that my oven was at 375 for approximately ever. Likewise the air temperature in my kitchen hovered around blackout level heat. There was sweat in places I am far too delicate a flower to reference specifically.

They're good. Of course they're good. Their freaking spectacular. As they should be with seventeen bajillion steps in the instructions and the resulting army of tiny cookie men.

Now, for cuteness






Thursday, October 9, 2014

Clever Bear and Other Bright Spots

It is, thus far, an extremely rough year with the Fish Sticks. So I'll focus on the positive.

First off, I got a red dollar store valentine bear from a kiddo a few years ago and this year it got a new role in the classroom. Inspired by Phryne Fisher's clever chocolates (the fictional detective rewards her daughters for asking smart questions or creative responses by giving them a fancy candy), I made this valentine guy the Clever Bear. Each morning I write a note to the Fish Sticks on the board and put a mistake in it. Whomever locates the mistake during calendar time gets to have the Clever Bear on his/her desk for the day. I have only one child who is "too big" for it and refused it. I'm working on him. There have also been instances when Fish Sticks gave excellent explanations in Math later on and I issued the CB to that kid, relieving the morning message mistake kid of the bear. Then the effort to regain the bear becomes heated!


I have managed to read them most of Robert Munsch. Because it's funny and often rude, I was able to appeal to them with this author after I failed to reach them with Mr. Men/Little Miss books, the Boxcar Children (who the heck doesn't love them???) and Kevin Henkes. Only Mo Willems and Munsch have gotten any engagement out of them and that is with Diva chewing some serious scenery on delivery.

Um, other positives? Uh...it's a three day weekend.
I've resolved not to bitch about this class on the blog so, short posts! It's a win for everyone, right?