I never outgrew sugary cereals. Every morning I say to myself, "Self, it would be very good to have Special K for breakfast this morning." But Self disagrees. Self wants Lucky Charms or, if I'm really having a blessed day, Apple Jacks. Self usually wins, and then I must punish Self by making us do Cardioke for an hour. (Okay, 20 minutes...I'm no Suzanne Sommers, gimme a break).
And yes, there really is such a thing as cardioke. I discovered it on Cox's On Demand channel. It's a special combination of cardio exercise and karaoke singing which allows me to use two of my lesser talents at once, for a truly scary sight. One or the other of those things is usually enough of a challenge for me. I do okay with cardio until it gets dance-y, then my lack of coordination starts working against me. It generally goes something like this:
(The truly brave-hearted can take a moment here to visualize me standing in my living room exercising in front of the TV):
Me: Okay, step touch, step touch, I got this. Why does she keep saying left and moving right?
Aerobic Goddess with six-pack and buns of steel: Let's add in some arms.
Me: Uh-oh. Okay, focus. Step touch, arms out, step touch, arms in. This doesn't look quite like what they're doing.
Aerobic Goddess with six-pack and buns of steel: Adding a new step here, grapevine...and go!
Me: Grapevine, what's that? Step, cross, step, heel. Wow, the girl in the back really puts a flair into it with those hips, doesn't she? Step, heel, cross, oops... (trip, fall back onto couch, be grateful, once again, that I'm doing this in the privacy of my own home).
My karaoke's even worse. I have a range of about 5 notes, and even Paula Abdul would have to concede that I'm "a little pitchy". Worse yet, I have singing enthusiasm. So, basically, I sing five notes, off-key, but with enthusiasm - a deadly combination.
It should be obvious, then, that Cardioke was a natural choice for me. The chance to be able to trip over my own two feet while singing "It's your thing...do what you wanna do" at the top of my lungs is priceless. It wasn't so bad when my kids were at school and I exercised in peace, but now that my flailing has an audience of four, it's worse. I mean, it can be really hard to hear what the Goddess is saying with everyone laughing so hard.
Come to think of it, they say that laughter can burn up to 40 calories a day. There's a chance my kids may be getting a better workout than me.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
Keepin' It Real
So I'm sitting here skimming through a women's magazine when I spot an article titled "Holiday Fun". Since I would like to have fun this holiday season, I decide to read the article. Mostly when I skim magazines I read the article's title only, make a hasty judgment call about its worth (usually negative), and then move on. So far today I've already passed on "Eat Your Way to a Healthy Heart" (if it doesn't involve cookies, I'm not into it), "Look Sexy in a Swimsuit Again!" (never did before, so probably not gonna happen now), and "De-Clutter Your Closets For Good" (puh-lease).
There should really be more honesty in writing. I mean, wouldn't it be great to see an article called, "I Threw a Rock at My Neighbor's Dog at 3:00 This Morning, Then Felt Guilty and Couldn't Sleep, So I Should Have Just Stayed In Bed To Begin With". Kind of wordy for a title, but at least we can all relate.
And what about that Ladies' Home Journal standard, "Can This Marriage Be Saved?" I used to get all excited reading that question every month, because I really wondered, can it? Sometimes I would make myself wait three full minutes to read the actual article just to increase the suspense. But guess what? It's saved. Every single month, month after month after month, always the same. Saved. And I'm left sitting there thinking, "I thought the divorce rate was much higher than this." I mean, it's good news and all, but shouldn't they just call their feature, "Another Marriage Saved" and stop the charade?
People should know what they're getting into when they start reading something. That's what's so great about children's books. When you see a book called, Anthony's Purple Hat, you can be pretty sure what that book is about. It's refreshing.
You know what else is refreshing? According to my "Holiday Fun" article, "making homemade wassail, putting on your holiday finery and entertaining those you love". Sigh. It would have been more honest to say, "Work yourself into a frenzy cleaning your house, try to find 5 friends who would want to come over for a refreshing sip of wassail, whatever that is, and then quickly sew yourself a holiday frock, since you can't afford finery." How fun!
Instead, I think I'll go get a cookie to eat while I read the rest of this magazine. And that's the honest truth.
There should really be more honesty in writing. I mean, wouldn't it be great to see an article called, "I Threw a Rock at My Neighbor's Dog at 3:00 This Morning, Then Felt Guilty and Couldn't Sleep, So I Should Have Just Stayed In Bed To Begin With". Kind of wordy for a title, but at least we can all relate.
And what about that Ladies' Home Journal standard, "Can This Marriage Be Saved?" I used to get all excited reading that question every month, because I really wondered, can it? Sometimes I would make myself wait three full minutes to read the actual article just to increase the suspense. But guess what? It's saved. Every single month, month after month after month, always the same. Saved. And I'm left sitting there thinking, "I thought the divorce rate was much higher than this." I mean, it's good news and all, but shouldn't they just call their feature, "Another Marriage Saved" and stop the charade?
People should know what they're getting into when they start reading something. That's what's so great about children's books. When you see a book called, Anthony's Purple Hat, you can be pretty sure what that book is about. It's refreshing.
You know what else is refreshing? According to my "Holiday Fun" article, "making homemade wassail, putting on your holiday finery and entertaining those you love". Sigh. It would have been more honest to say, "Work yourself into a frenzy cleaning your house, try to find 5 friends who would want to come over for a refreshing sip of wassail, whatever that is, and then quickly sew yourself a holiday frock, since you can't afford finery." How fun!
Instead, I think I'll go get a cookie to eat while I read the rest of this magazine. And that's the honest truth.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
A Season of Selling
If you need some extra money, think of selling things. A wise sage once told me, "You can make money when you sell stuff. " That was either a wise sage or my friend Craig Slist, I can't remember. Anyway, my family decided to try it out.
DDawg sold homemade soft pretzels and made enough money to pay for football camp.
TLC whipped together a few ingredients and made his own laundry soap, earning enough to pay for scout camp.
Angelface conned her great-grandma into saving pop cans for her, and she earned enough to put up a tent in the living room and eat marshmallows, as if she were at camp.
AJ didn't sell anything, but she's cute and people (aka her grandmas) give her money all the time. She has enough for a pint of Ben & Jerry's, although she's too young to appreciate that fact.
I tried to sell my autograph on Ebay, because my friend at work told me autographs bring big money on Ebay. Nobody bought mine, though. Maybe my reserve was too high.
My failure prompted Hubby to buy me some Tony Robbins CDs (on Ebay, of course. It seems like everyone is making money there but me). Apparently Tony thinks I can do anything I put my mind to, so Hubby suggested I listen to the T-Rob every morning while styling my hair. I just started yesterday, but it turns out he was right! Just for fun, I started thinking about those old beehive hairdos people used to have, and I ended up making the BIGGEST hairdo ever! It was so crazy! Still no money though.
In my sorrow I walked down the street to commiserate with my sister-in-law, but she was busy helping her 6-year-old with a lemonade stand. They made $26. Man, I should have thought of that.
DDawg sold homemade soft pretzels and made enough money to pay for football camp.
TLC whipped together a few ingredients and made his own laundry soap, earning enough to pay for scout camp.
Angelface conned her great-grandma into saving pop cans for her, and she earned enough to put up a tent in the living room and eat marshmallows, as if she were at camp.
AJ didn't sell anything, but she's cute and people (aka her grandmas) give her money all the time. She has enough for a pint of Ben & Jerry's, although she's too young to appreciate that fact.
I tried to sell my autograph on Ebay, because my friend at work told me autographs bring big money on Ebay. Nobody bought mine, though. Maybe my reserve was too high.
My failure prompted Hubby to buy me some Tony Robbins CDs (on Ebay, of course. It seems like everyone is making money there but me). Apparently Tony thinks I can do anything I put my mind to, so Hubby suggested I listen to the T-Rob every morning while styling my hair. I just started yesterday, but it turns out he was right! Just for fun, I started thinking about those old beehive hairdos people used to have, and I ended up making the BIGGEST hairdo ever! It was so crazy! Still no money though.
In my sorrow I walked down the street to commiserate with my sister-in-law, but she was busy helping her 6-year-old with a lemonade stand. They made $26. Man, I should have thought of that.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
A Prayer for Me
From Luke Chapter 22:
"And he was withdrawn from them about a stone's cast, and kneeled down and prayed. Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done. And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him.
And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground."
It's common to pray more earnestly in moments of great pain. A natural, and welcome, result of pain is being driven to your knees, where you can find a measure of relief. When I am in pain, physical or emotional, I often pray more frequently and more earnestly. I pray for myself: for relief, for strength, for understanding, for deliverance.
But I'm human. My natural man is inclined to be selfish. I pray for myself a lot, even when I'm not in pain! But Jesus Christ is the opposite of selfish.
Could he have been praying for me?
Is it possible that, being in agony, he prayed more earnestly for me, not for himself? I know I was part of the agony. I know part of His agony was because He saw, felt and understood all my future sins, sorrows and heartaches. In the midst of his own great and terrible pain, did He pray over mine?
Amazing.
"And he was withdrawn from them about a stone's cast, and kneeled down and prayed. Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done. And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him.
And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground."
It's common to pray more earnestly in moments of great pain. A natural, and welcome, result of pain is being driven to your knees, where you can find a measure of relief. When I am in pain, physical or emotional, I often pray more frequently and more earnestly. I pray for myself: for relief, for strength, for understanding, for deliverance.
But I'm human. My natural man is inclined to be selfish. I pray for myself a lot, even when I'm not in pain! But Jesus Christ is the opposite of selfish.
Could he have been praying for me?
Is it possible that, being in agony, he prayed more earnestly for me, not for himself? I know I was part of the agony. I know part of His agony was because He saw, felt and understood all my future sins, sorrows and heartaches. In the midst of his own great and terrible pain, did He pray over mine?
Amazing.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Summer Fun
Summer's coming
Better gear up.
Do jumping jacks,
Get a tummy tuck.
Enroll those kids
In swim team, now!
If you hesitate
You'll be left out.
Must, must, must
Go to EFY.
Everyone's going, Mom,
That's why.
Dance lessons, really?
It's such a joke.
My 3-yr-old plies,
While I go broke.
Horse riding, piano,
Gymnastics, bale hay.
Private cooking classes,
Make things out of clay.
We'll be bored, we must go,
My kids cry and sob!
What else can I do?
I get them all jobs!
Better gear up.
Do jumping jacks,
Get a tummy tuck.
Enroll those kids
In swim team, now!
If you hesitate
You'll be left out.
Must, must, must
Go to EFY.
Everyone's going, Mom,
That's why.
Dance lessons, really?
It's such a joke.
My 3-yr-old plies,
While I go broke.
Horse riding, piano,
Gymnastics, bale hay.
Private cooking classes,
Make things out of clay.
We'll be bored, we must go,
My kids cry and sob!
What else can I do?
I get them all jobs!
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Give Your Laundry A Little TLC
I don't remember going on any $300 field trips when I was a kid. Actually, I don't remember going on any field trips, but that's probably because they weren't of the $300 variety, and so were not very memorable.
TLC has one of these absurdly expensive field trips coming up. His whole grade is going on some sort of oceanic exploration trip in San Diego. Of course, attendance is optional. But when you've been subjected to the nostril flare of total rejection by your 11-year-old child, it kind of takes the fun out of optional.
What to do? What to do? TLC, an entrepreneur at heart, decided to take matters into his own hands. He tried to get a little space at the Christmas shop at his school for some wooden bead bracelets he made, but he got shot down by the PTA. Strike one. His brother's had good success selling his homemade soft pretzels, so he set me to work trying to replicate the Krispy Kreme donut recipe. Three or four recipes and several pounds later, strike two. Finally, after reading a book called The Toothpaste Millionaire, about a boy who makes toothpaste that works and is way cheaper than the paste at the store and, natch, makes a million, he whipped up a batch of homemade laundry detergent.
I used it today on all my laundry. It was actually pretty great! It has a nice mild, clean smell and my clothes got just as clean as ever. It didn't get out the tar that somehow got on Lynnie's pant leg, but hey, it's detergent, not boric acid. The best part is, it's only $1.50 a gallon (that's enough for 32 loads in a top loading washer or 64 loads in a front loading washer). Leave me a comment if you want some, he's taking orders!
TLC has one of these absurdly expensive field trips coming up. His whole grade is going on some sort of oceanic exploration trip in San Diego. Of course, attendance is optional. But when you've been subjected to the nostril flare of total rejection by your 11-year-old child, it kind of takes the fun out of optional.
What to do? What to do? TLC, an entrepreneur at heart, decided to take matters into his own hands. He tried to get a little space at the Christmas shop at his school for some wooden bead bracelets he made, but he got shot down by the PTA. Strike one. His brother's had good success selling his homemade soft pretzels, so he set me to work trying to replicate the Krispy Kreme donut recipe. Three or four recipes and several pounds later, strike two. Finally, after reading a book called The Toothpaste Millionaire, about a boy who makes toothpaste that works and is way cheaper than the paste at the store and, natch, makes a million, he whipped up a batch of homemade laundry detergent.
I used it today on all my laundry. It was actually pretty great! It has a nice mild, clean smell and my clothes got just as clean as ever. It didn't get out the tar that somehow got on Lynnie's pant leg, but hey, it's detergent, not boric acid. The best part is, it's only $1.50 a gallon (that's enough for 32 loads in a top loading washer or 64 loads in a front loading washer). Leave me a comment if you want some, he's taking orders!
Monday, March 16, 2009
The Design Diva in Me
I watch HGTV a lot at night. Last night I went to sleep with my little head full of designer drapes and complete kitchen remodels. As I rested, all those creative ideas percolated through my subconscious, and I woke up ready to revolutionize my house, design-wise at least.
One of the first things I did was organize. I put all my little hair elastics, sorted by color, into an empty egg carton. Then I closed the lid and put the whole thing in a small drawer in the bathroom vanity. It didn't fit. I tried to jam it in by pushing down on the top with one hand while I forced the drawer closed with the other, but it still wouldn't fit, plus it hurt my hand. Then I was inspired to cut the lid off. Now it fits, but every time I open or close the drawer, the little elastics go flying. I hate bending over to pick them all up. Luckily, I've found that a little bit of color on the tile looks really quite nice.
The second thing I did was to purge. Only our stuff, of course, although the hair elastic Incident did make me feel slightly nauseous. I put a box in the hallway labeled Charity and forced each of my children to contribute ten items. I probably should have specified that the items they contributed had to be their own. My unwitting 3-year-old has nothing left to play with.
Next I went to work on those curtains. Just so you know my background, my mom used to tie our curtains back with whichever hair ribbons her girls weren't using that day. I myself have tried to go a little classier, using a scarf rather than ribbons. Although I'll admit, when I'm feeling sassy, I sometimes steal the scarf and use it for a belt. My curtains stay closed on belt days, and also my pants don't sag. But if they did it would be okay because my curtains are closed, so no one would know.
Anyway, inspired by HGTV, I decided to sew a valance for the bare window over my kitchen sink. I was a little delayed in my sewing as I tried to figure out if it's pronounced vuh-lahns, or val-ince. Then I was further delayed when I couldn't find my sewing machine. Then I remembered that I don't have a sewing machine, plus I don't know how to sew. So, the vuh-lans or whatever will have to wait.
I thought I would play to my strengths next and refinish the table. This would involve stripping, sanding and staining it. I know that sounds like a lot of work, but if there's one thing I can do it's strip. I learned to strip in the workshop behind my house when I was just a little girl. My parents really encouraged me in this pursuit. I think they saw something of a future in it for me, but I haven't really done it much since I got married. I really planned on getting that table done too, but when it came down to it, I couldn't bring myself to touch it. It's a family heirloom, and I was afraid if I refinished it I would wipe out all the pencil scratchings dug into the wood surface during homework time, or the little specks of nail polish from beauty salon days, or even the glossy patch left there when I tried my hand at jewelry making one time and pretty much sheened up the whole room, instead of just the wooden beads I was working with.
By this time my day was pretty much gone. I know I'm no match for the design divas on TV, but I do feel pretty good about what I did with those hair elastics. Tomorrow I'm planning to tackle home repairs. Can someone please call that Phillip guy I've been hearing so much about?
One of the first things I did was organize. I put all my little hair elastics, sorted by color, into an empty egg carton. Then I closed the lid and put the whole thing in a small drawer in the bathroom vanity. It didn't fit. I tried to jam it in by pushing down on the top with one hand while I forced the drawer closed with the other, but it still wouldn't fit, plus it hurt my hand. Then I was inspired to cut the lid off. Now it fits, but every time I open or close the drawer, the little elastics go flying. I hate bending over to pick them all up. Luckily, I've found that a little bit of color on the tile looks really quite nice.
The second thing I did was to purge. Only our stuff, of course, although the hair elastic Incident did make me feel slightly nauseous. I put a box in the hallway labeled Charity and forced each of my children to contribute ten items. I probably should have specified that the items they contributed had to be their own. My unwitting 3-year-old has nothing left to play with.
Next I went to work on those curtains. Just so you know my background, my mom used to tie our curtains back with whichever hair ribbons her girls weren't using that day. I myself have tried to go a little classier, using a scarf rather than ribbons. Although I'll admit, when I'm feeling sassy, I sometimes steal the scarf and use it for a belt. My curtains stay closed on belt days, and also my pants don't sag. But if they did it would be okay because my curtains are closed, so no one would know.
Anyway, inspired by HGTV, I decided to sew a valance for the bare window over my kitchen sink. I was a little delayed in my sewing as I tried to figure out if it's pronounced vuh-lahns, or val-ince. Then I was further delayed when I couldn't find my sewing machine. Then I remembered that I don't have a sewing machine, plus I don't know how to sew. So, the vuh-lans or whatever will have to wait.
I thought I would play to my strengths next and refinish the table. This would involve stripping, sanding and staining it. I know that sounds like a lot of work, but if there's one thing I can do it's strip. I learned to strip in the workshop behind my house when I was just a little girl. My parents really encouraged me in this pursuit. I think they saw something of a future in it for me, but I haven't really done it much since I got married. I really planned on getting that table done too, but when it came down to it, I couldn't bring myself to touch it. It's a family heirloom, and I was afraid if I refinished it I would wipe out all the pencil scratchings dug into the wood surface during homework time, or the little specks of nail polish from beauty salon days, or even the glossy patch left there when I tried my hand at jewelry making one time and pretty much sheened up the whole room, instead of just the wooden beads I was working with.
By this time my day was pretty much gone. I know I'm no match for the design divas on TV, but I do feel pretty good about what I did with those hair elastics. Tomorrow I'm planning to tackle home repairs. Can someone please call that Phillip guy I've been hearing so much about?
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Making Money in the New Economy
Ways to make some extra cash while riding out these tough times:
1. Start a bank but refuse to lend money to anyone. I already do this at home and it's a pretty good business model. When my kids reach for my wallet I just say, "Sorry, the bank is closed for the day." I can't say my profits are that great, but no losses either.
2. Get together with three or four other families and move in together. Share the rent, grocery bill, utilities, lice and pneumonia.
3. Become a TV evangelist. Sort of a dying breed, but hey, you've always done your own thing.
4. 2 words - Potato Farm. If you grew just one really huge potato with 100 eyes, you could then plant the eyes and grow 100 new potatoes. Where else can you get that kind of return? On a related note, does anyone else think it's kind of spooky that potatoes have eyes?
5. Become president of the Human Fund. (That was for you, Connie, as a thank you for being one of my five loyal readers)
6. Turn this blog posting into a spiral bound mini-book and sell it on Craigslist.
7. Go door to door and....oh, wait, there's nobody living in any of those houses anymore.
1. Start a bank but refuse to lend money to anyone. I already do this at home and it's a pretty good business model. When my kids reach for my wallet I just say, "Sorry, the bank is closed for the day." I can't say my profits are that great, but no losses either.
2. Get together with three or four other families and move in together. Share the rent, grocery bill, utilities, lice and pneumonia.
3. Become a TV evangelist. Sort of a dying breed, but hey, you've always done your own thing.
4. 2 words - Potato Farm. If you grew just one really huge potato with 100 eyes, you could then plant the eyes and grow 100 new potatoes. Where else can you get that kind of return? On a related note, does anyone else think it's kind of spooky that potatoes have eyes?
5. Become president of the Human Fund. (That was for you, Connie, as a thank you for being one of my five loyal readers)
6. Turn this blog posting into a spiral bound mini-book and sell it on Craigslist.
7. Go door to door and....oh, wait, there's nobody living in any of those houses anymore.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
My Funny Valentine ('s Day)
Ever watch Jon & Kate Plus 8 on TV? Well, if not, it's a reality show that follows a couple who have a set of twins about 5 or 6 years old, and a set of sextuplets who are maybe 3. This is how they celebrated Valentine's Day:
Jon and Kate bought each other lovely, thoughtful gifts. They were beautifully wrapped. Kate took the extra time to cut out and paste little hearts all over her present to Jon.
Kate made heart shaped pancakes for breakfast. Then she made heart shaped sandwiches for lunch. I can't remember what she made for dinner, but I'm guessing it was spaghetti with all the little noodles tied together to make hearts.
The kids all had little backpacks on their chairs when they came down for breakfast. The bags (red and white, of course) were filled with V-Day goodies.
Jon and Kate put together a little treasure hunt for the children. They wrote and hid clues all over the house, with the treasure being this huge (and beautifully wrapped) box full of dollar store toys for them to choose from.
It was a wonderful day for them. Our clan also celebrated Valentine's Day. Here is what we did:
We waited for TLC to get home from his scout campout and then left immediately for his basketball game, where he was given a personal foul for smelling like smoke/day old clothes/dutch oven cobbler.
From there we went to Lynnie's basketball game, where she would have loved to get a foul, but she's still learning that you only stick to your "man" like glue when you're on DEFENSE!
Mom realized she forgot to give AJ any breakfast and that might account for her crankiness at said basketball games, so we all went home for some festive peanut butter sandwiches, not cut into hearts, but made with almost no complaining by mom.
Mom took D-Dawg to buy some running shorts for track. These shorts had to be a particular shade of maroon. VERY particular. In a fit of rage, Mom cut the shorts D-Dawg was wearing into little heart shaped scraps while he was in the changing room.
Mom went to a baptism, where she thought about the shorts incident with regret. Dad forced the kids to do chores while she was gone.
Mom picked up Mexican food, our Valentine's Day tradition, took it home, and served it on a table that she decorated with a little red votive candle left by a concerned visiting teacher, who noted Mom's lack of holiday decorating back at Thanksgiving.
Dad and Mom gave everyone a chocolate bar that said I Love You on it and we all made s'mores in the fireplace, which I've heard can be toxic and maybe even deadly.
I'm really glad no TV crews were following us.
Jon and Kate bought each other lovely, thoughtful gifts. They were beautifully wrapped. Kate took the extra time to cut out and paste little hearts all over her present to Jon.
Kate made heart shaped pancakes for breakfast. Then she made heart shaped sandwiches for lunch. I can't remember what she made for dinner, but I'm guessing it was spaghetti with all the little noodles tied together to make hearts.
The kids all had little backpacks on their chairs when they came down for breakfast. The bags (red and white, of course) were filled with V-Day goodies.
Jon and Kate put together a little treasure hunt for the children. They wrote and hid clues all over the house, with the treasure being this huge (and beautifully wrapped) box full of dollar store toys for them to choose from.
It was a wonderful day for them. Our clan also celebrated Valentine's Day. Here is what we did:
We waited for TLC to get home from his scout campout and then left immediately for his basketball game, where he was given a personal foul for smelling like smoke/day old clothes/dutch oven cobbler.
From there we went to Lynnie's basketball game, where she would have loved to get a foul, but she's still learning that you only stick to your "man" like glue when you're on DEFENSE!
Mom realized she forgot to give AJ any breakfast and that might account for her crankiness at said basketball games, so we all went home for some festive peanut butter sandwiches, not cut into hearts, but made with almost no complaining by mom.
Mom took D-Dawg to buy some running shorts for track. These shorts had to be a particular shade of maroon. VERY particular. In a fit of rage, Mom cut the shorts D-Dawg was wearing into little heart shaped scraps while he was in the changing room.
Mom went to a baptism, where she thought about the shorts incident with regret. Dad forced the kids to do chores while she was gone.
Mom picked up Mexican food, our Valentine's Day tradition, took it home, and served it on a table that she decorated with a little red votive candle left by a concerned visiting teacher, who noted Mom's lack of holiday decorating back at Thanksgiving.
Dad and Mom gave everyone a chocolate bar that said I Love You on it and we all made s'mores in the fireplace, which I've heard can be toxic and maybe even deadly.
I'm really glad no TV crews were following us.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
The Dreaded Moment
It comes without fail every weekday, and sometimes on weekends too. The dreaded moment. "Mom, I need help with my math."
I have a little routine I use to deal with this alarming situation. Whenever someone asks me to help with their math, I immediately break into a mournful rendition of "Greensleeves". I don't actually know any of the words to Greensleeves except for, well, greensleeves. So my version goes like this:
"Greensleeves was all she wore,
From head to toe, it was quite a bore."
Although well-rhymed and most likely publishable, I sing this song for one reason and one reason only: to try to distract my hapless child from his appointed task. I'm always hoping he'll get that vacant look in his eyes and suddenly say, "I forgot what I came in here for."
Yes, it's true. I would rather have my children turn in blank math pages than have to reveal to them what a hopeless math-o-phobe I am. It's not even so much about doing the math, it's about remembering math that I learned several to many years ago. I can never remember the difference between Least Common Multiple and Greatest Common Factor, among other things. So in order to help, I either need to read the whole chapter in the math book first, look it up online, or call the homework helpline.
One time I tried the homework helpline. It went a little something like this:
Me: When I multiply fractions, do I multiply straight across or cross across?
Helpful Homework Person (HHP): Huh?
Me: I need to multiply 1 and 7/8 by 2 and 3/4. I'm just wondering if I should add the fractions to themselves first and then multiply in a diagonal way...
HHP: You mean cross multiply?
Me: Ummm....yes?
HHP: Okay, to cross multiply you simply multiply the top of the first fraction with the bottom of the second fraction, and vice versa.
Me: Right. That much I know. But is that what I'm supposed to do here? I'm just not sure if I use the multiplying when I'm adding or if I should skip the adding and go straight to the multiplying across or if I should multiply straight and then add and simplify.
HHP: Could I speak to your child?
Child: Hello?
HHP: I've been on the phone with your mom for the last ten minutes and I still haven't figured out what the question is. Can you help me with that?
Child: That's okay, I figured it out while you guys were on the phone.
The next day I got a letter from the Homework Helpline directing me to call the new Remedial Homework Helpline at 1-800-IMSTUPD next time I had a question. Unfortunately, I'm very good at English and so I was quickly able to decipher that phone number as a cleverly disguised insult. (It's short for I'm Stupid. Don't worry if you didn't get it, a lot of people don't.)
I'll never sink to that level though. I won't call the Remedial Homework Helpline as long as I've got ten good fingers to count on. And the internet.
I have a little routine I use to deal with this alarming situation. Whenever someone asks me to help with their math, I immediately break into a mournful rendition of "Greensleeves". I don't actually know any of the words to Greensleeves except for, well, greensleeves. So my version goes like this:
"Greensleeves was all she wore,
From head to toe, it was quite a bore."
Although well-rhymed and most likely publishable, I sing this song for one reason and one reason only: to try to distract my hapless child from his appointed task. I'm always hoping he'll get that vacant look in his eyes and suddenly say, "I forgot what I came in here for."
Yes, it's true. I would rather have my children turn in blank math pages than have to reveal to them what a hopeless math-o-phobe I am. It's not even so much about doing the math, it's about remembering math that I learned several to many years ago. I can never remember the difference between Least Common Multiple and Greatest Common Factor, among other things. So in order to help, I either need to read the whole chapter in the math book first, look it up online, or call the homework helpline.
One time I tried the homework helpline. It went a little something like this:
Me: When I multiply fractions, do I multiply straight across or cross across?
Helpful Homework Person (HHP): Huh?
Me: I need to multiply 1 and 7/8 by 2 and 3/4. I'm just wondering if I should add the fractions to themselves first and then multiply in a diagonal way...
HHP: You mean cross multiply?
Me: Ummm....yes?
HHP: Okay, to cross multiply you simply multiply the top of the first fraction with the bottom of the second fraction, and vice versa.
Me: Right. That much I know. But is that what I'm supposed to do here? I'm just not sure if I use the multiplying when I'm adding or if I should skip the adding and go straight to the multiplying across or if I should multiply straight and then add and simplify.
HHP: Could I speak to your child?
Child: Hello?
HHP: I've been on the phone with your mom for the last ten minutes and I still haven't figured out what the question is. Can you help me with that?
Child: That's okay, I figured it out while you guys were on the phone.
The next day I got a letter from the Homework Helpline directing me to call the new Remedial Homework Helpline at 1-800-IMSTUPD next time I had a question. Unfortunately, I'm very good at English and so I was quickly able to decipher that phone number as a cleverly disguised insult. (It's short for I'm Stupid. Don't worry if you didn't get it, a lot of people don't.)
I'll never sink to that level though. I won't call the Remedial Homework Helpline as long as I've got ten good fingers to count on. And the internet.
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