Hmmmmm......

What shall I do today?

When you have a clean slate of seven or eight weeks ahead of you, the possibilities seem endless.

Thing is, my mind manages to fill those weeks with far more productivity than my body does. Every summer, I list a million projects in my head that I'm going to get accomplished, and on a good year, I get ...hmmmm...maybe ten finished.

Once, Main Man bought me a kitchen magnet with the saying, "Today, I will not 'should' all over myself."

Today - my first day of holidays - I'm going to take that advice.

Birthday Musings

I took #3 to a birthday party last night.

The demographics involved were interesting. There was one family with a toddler, two families with preschoolers, a grandma who had brought her preschool granddaughter, and me.

Now, even though I have a preschooler, I have other children, of course. Older children. And that's just how I felt. Older.

As #3 happily played with the other kids, I visited with the adults. They all knew each other quite well. Except me. They were all very welcoming and inclusive, but I still felt on a different level. Not a higher level - just a different level.

I felt like I had more in common with the grandmother than the younger parents. Scary...

Freedom

I don't usually do two posts on the same day, but I just had to let everyone know that:

(cue Alice Cooper intro)

School's .... out for summer!

Blogger's Anonymous

I have an addiction.

I have entered the "acceptance" phase. I freely admit my obsession.

Yesterday morn, our internet connection was down. I tried all I could (with my limited knowledge of the hardware side of things). Main Man, my computer guru, sleeps an hour and a half later than I do in the mornings, so for an hour and a half, I twiddled my thumbs.

How sad is that?! I am a grown woman. Surely I could think of something productive I could have been doing. Why did the world have to stop because I could not get the computer to work?

When Main Man got up, I nonchalantly told him about the problem - as I attempted to conceal the shakes I had begun to experience.

He called the Internet Help Line (Guess I could have done that.), and within fifteen minutes or so, all was back to normal.

Only one problem with that - I had to leave for work at that point. GRRRRRRRR!

No time for a new post. No time to visit friends' blogs. No time to comment.

By the time I got to school, I was a wreck. Luckily, the distraction of maintaining crowd control on the second last day of school helped, and I was too busy to let myself experience severe withdrawal symptoms.

All day at school, though, I periodically checked for comments on The Books Nook. Why? Good question. Why would anyone comment when I hadn't written anything new?

Once I got home, I thought about posting something new, but I was too antsy and jittery. It seemed an impossible task to focus long enough to finish a sentence, let alone a full entry.

All evening, my temper was short with the boys. I yelled at the dog. It was not a pretty night for my family. Good thing Main Man was out with some friends; there could have been real trouble had he been home.

I went to bed nursing a splitting headache. Luckily, I slept like a log.

I seem to be over my funk now. Do you s'pose that's because I'm finally getting my fix?

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

I think I may have a new reader today.

I would like to extend a welcome to my sister-in-law. She and her family were over last night for a barbecue to (belatedly) celebrate #1's birthday, and I told her about my blog. She emailed herself my URL on the spot, so if she's out there reading this, I'm glad.

Now that I've set that up, I have a story to tell that involves her in the periphery. I hope she doesn't take offence. Actually, I think she'll get a laugh out of it.

Main Man was excitedly digging and planting in his beloved garden yesterday. Because of busy-ness and rain over the last month or so, he has had to put gardening off, so he was very happy to finally have a sun-filled sky on a Sunday afternoon to enjoy his little plot.

I, of course, was at the kitchen table working on my reports, trying to dodge bullets of, "Mo-o-o-o-om, what can I do? There's nothing to do. Can you take us to the science centre? Can we.......?"

Suddenly, the phone rang, and everyone ran for it. I won.

On the phone was my aforementioned SIL, calling to apologise that they would be a little late in arriving because her son wouldn't get off work until 6:00.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaagh!

Had I even remembered that we were having company for supper? Of course not.

Main Man had set up this date a couple of weeks ago. I had known about it, but it had been completely pushed out of my conscious mind with thoughts of numbers, letters, and "Have a great summer!"s

Thank goodness our nephew had to work that day! Otherwise, we would have had quite a surprise come suppertime.

Luckily, that fateful phone call had come early enough that a wonderful supper was able to be put together in time. Even the livingroom carpet was vacuumed and the house relatively ship-shape in time.

Whew!

Bizarre Soccer Moment of the Weekend

#1's orange team played against a very strangely coached team yesterday.

At one point when #1 was executing a throw-in from the sidelines, he heard the other team's coach shout (in reference to a girl on #1's team), "Cover the orange floozy! Cover the orange floozy!"

Who's Ready for a Burger?

Last night was the school year-end barbecue - lots of fun. You know, I totally admire those parents who take the time to plan these events for the community. I wish I could help, but this event is a no-brainer for me. There's no way I could help plan it. I had to ask myself more than once if I could spare the two hours to attend it!

Still, I'm so glad I did. It was relaxing to visit with friends and watch the kids play in the schoolyard. Just the tonic I needed to get through the next six (count 'em!) days.

Watching the boys at their various stages of social development was fascinating. In between visiting (gossiping?) with the other moms and dads, I would glance up and visually find the boys in the playground.

#1 was sitting with a posse of his 12-year-old guy friends, eating and laughing, appearing to ignore, but most probably completely aware of, the posse of 12-year-old girls at the next table.

#2 sat and ate with us, then ran to play basketball with his 9-year-old friends.

#3 didn't sit down once. I know some parents out there will think I'm doing this all wrong, but I didn't insist he sit down with us. He was so pumped! He played with his friends on the playstructures and checked in with us for a few bites of hot dog and salad every ten minutes or so. Oh - I forgot - I did insist he stay with us once he got his ice cream cone. No way was I going to hold an ice cream cone while it dripped down my wrist. And, sorry folks, but I am not a big fan of Tiger Tiger.

Anyway, a grand time was had by all.

The Crazy Hip Blog Mamas

I've joined a webring.

I'm not exactly sure what that means, but I think part of it is that I am now in with the cool kids. Well, the hip mamas, anyway.

Main Man once had an acquaintance who took offence to being called a hipster. We couldn't figure that one out. Maybe it means different things in different places. Point is, though, if anyone should take offence to being associated with "hip", you'd think it would be mamas. Not these cool ladies, though.

If you are interested in checking out the Crazy Hip Blog Mamas as a group, click on their name in my Places to Visit column. If you are interested in meeting them one at a time, click on "Random Site".

Hope you have as much fun meeting them as I have had.

"The Talk"

My fifth and sixth graders get "The Talk" today.

You know the one. The one that makes you squirm for a few weeks afterward. The one that makes you see the opposite sex a little differently for awhile. The one the parents are oh-so-glad that the school takes care of. The one where the public health nurse gets a chance to embarass every tweenager to her heart's content.

Yeah - that talk.

Hah! I love it!

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof?

#3, innocently lying in bed, looking at a book about Catwoman he got from the library:

Mom, the cartoon Catwoman, when she puts on her costume, she's hot. She should go in a hot contest.

Did I say innocently?

How Powerful Are You?

Your Power Level is: 61%

You're a very powerful person, and you know that all of your power comes from within. Keep on doing what you're doing, and you'll reach your goals.

http://blogthings.com/howpowerfulareyouquiz/


Personally, I wouldn't consider 61% "a very powerful person", but if they say so....

So there, I'm off to meet my goals.... Wish me luck!

Also, give this one a try. There is an interesting story to read, and it could give you cause for some introspection.

Father's Day Recap

I hope all you dads out there had a wonderful Father's Day.

I didn't get a chance to talk to my dad. I tried a few times, left two messages, but no actual vocal contact.

He and his wife had been to my sister's for a few days. My brother-in-law is retiring from the teaching profession, and there was a big shindig to celebrate, so Dad and Ruth were invited. Then they spent a few days at my sister's cottage overlooking the lake, a beautiful, relaxing place.

Apparently, they headed home yesterday, but were planning to stop to visit a couple of friends in various and sundry places on the way, so I never got a chance to connect.

I think Main Man had a good day. It started with gifts, cards, and well-wishes from the boys and me. He got a new barbecue set and a DVD that he had hugely hinted at.

Then, a morning to himself as I carted the boys off to church.

Then, an afternoon to himself as I again carted the boys off - this time to my school. As you can imagine, this ever-so-slightly hampered progress on my work, but Main Man had given me such a relaxing Mother's Day that I just couldn't leave him high and dry on his big day.

Later, a wonderful supper of barbecued steak and his favourite potato and vegetable dishes.

I hate that Father's Day falls smack-dab in the middle of Report Card Season. Although I try to give him a relaxing day, I'm sure he can feel my tension as I madly punch numbers into my calculator with my red pen.

The light - I see it - way down there at the end of the tunnel. What's that? Oh yeah, you're right. Before we get there, there is a mountain to climb, a raging river to ford, and a pride of hungry lions (or is that a group of antsy middle graders?) to conquer.

Party Time!

Today is the day we are celebrating #1's birthday.

Main Man lives for the boys' birthday parties. He has been the King of Birthday Party Planning for nine years now. He has put together pirate parties, Spy Kids parties, Star Wars parties, Water War parties, Peter Pan parties, fireman parties, Shrek parties, Harry Potter parties, and Superhero School parties. At one of #2's parties, the kids and Main Man even made their own movie, complete with edits and credits.

MM creates a party from the invitations to the take-home gifts. For the pirate party, the invitations were messages in bottles. The take-home gifts were toy swords, pirate costumes, complete with (temporary) tattoos, and mops for swabbing the decks. The mops were the favourite things - imagine!

For one of the spy parties, the invitations were on CD, in code, and each guest had a secret password they had to say to be admitted into the party. He even included cool spy music on the CD, so the kids would want to keep it: songs like "Secret Agent Man" and "Theme from Mission Impossible." The take-home gifts were "spy-gear": shades, water pistols, decoder rings, ID cards.

For the movie party, the invitations were audition calls; the take-homes were mini-Oscars, engraved with each kid's name.

This party will be #1's last: no big theme parties for teenagers.

For this party, #1 will be King for a Day. He and six of his buddies are taking a limo to an amusement place here in town with batting cages, go-Karts, mini-golf, and paintball. After a couple of hours there, they'll hop back into the limo to go for a little drive around, then end up at Burger King for supper. Then, they'll walk across the street to Dairy Queen for ice cream cake, where parents will pick them up. I don't know who is most excited: #1, Main Man, or#2 and#3.

I hope they all have a great time.

I will be the woman following along in the blue mini-van with the soothing spa music playing, calculating report card marks whenever I stop at a red light.

How Sinful Are You?

Your Deadly Sins

Envy: 40%

Sloth: 40%

Wrath: 20%

Gluttony: 0%

Greed: 0%

Lust: 0%

Pride: 0%

Chance You'll Go to Hell: 14%

You will die at the hands of a jealous lover. How ironic.

This one really surprised me. I think I am much worse than this survey says I am - especially when I'm grouchy and swamped in my busiest season.

BTW, Main Man made me mad a few days ago. We were arguing about something trivial - not sure I even remember what - oh yeah, Buddhism vs. Christianity. Just as the argument was losing a little steam, he said to me, "Are you really angry with me, or is it just because it's June?"

Now that was the equivalent to,"Is it your time of the month?" to me, which he mercifully has learned not to use anymore.

Yeah, buddy, it is June, but I'm also mad at you because you're a dough-head!

(Well, not anymore, because the fight's over.)

(Until he reads this.)

(Oops!)

Update (after school): Okay, okay, I am an idiot at this time of year. (No comments from you, Mentok!) I've been wondering all day why I haven't been getting any comments. It could easily be because you are all getting tired of me, but I just realized now that part of the problem could be that I forgot to post the link to the quiz. Now who's the dough-head!?!

If you would like to find out how sinful you are, go here. And, really, aren't we all a little curious?

The Simpsons Personality Test

You Are Marge Simpson

You're a devoted family member who loves unconditionally. Sometimes, though, you dream about living a wild secret life! You will be remembered for: your good cooking and evading the police Your life philosophy: "You should listen to your heart, and not the voices in your head."

http://blogthings.com/thesimpsonspersonalitytest/

My boys are going to love this! They watch at least two episodes of The Simpsons every day. And they are always telling me that I'm "just like Marge". Personally, I think Main Man is more like Homer than I'm like Marge, but maybe they tell him that too.

And I didn't even lie when I filled out the survey. I answered each question very honestly. Honestly!

*Note* The following is not a complaint. It is simply a statement of fact.

You may see a few more "Personality test" entries over the next couple of weeks. I am waist-deep in report card season, and creativity and time are at a minimum. Every year at this time I remember the truism I coined round about my fourth or fifth year of teaching: I wouldn't need July and August if it weren't for June!

Young Love - Bleeeeccccchhhhhh!

I pull up to buy gas last night and this pimply, baby-faced kid with a baseball cap on his head (facing forward) ambles over to fill my tank.

At first, I'm a little perturbed that he is taking so long to get to my car. I mean, come on, kid - I'm the only customer, and your little building is - what - five paces from where my car is?

Then, as I open my window to tell him to "Fill 'er up!" I become even more annoyed, because I see the reason he's taking his sweet time. It's a Barbie Doll in the flesh, only skinnier. I'm waiting for Charlie Gas Jockey because he's busy sweet-talking Barbie baby.

Once I tell him to fill my car up, he gets down to it, gets everything working, and promptly walks back to his regularly scheduled programming.

I've always had a problem with this new style teenage girls have fashioned for themselves of wearing pyjama bottoms as regular pants. In too much of a hurry, dearie? Not enough time to get dressed this morning?

This little girl was a true piece of work, though, right from her L'Oreal hair (I'm sure she's "worth it") and her practiced pout down to her Winnie the Pooh jammie bottoms with the obligatory thong underwear showing at the back.

Anyway, she sure seemed to have sweet Charlie wrapped around her finger.

Some people might think I'm just jealous of young love. Nah, I'm just mad because I didn't get my windshield washed!

I Can See Clearly Now...

I went to the optometrist yesterday. I've worn the same glasses since I was expecting #3. I figured I would celebrate his getting ready for kindergarten by throwing myself a little lenses and frames party.

Although I got a pretty early appointment, I took the whole morning off work because I was told that the doctor would be administering drops that may blur my vision for awhile. They turned out to be dilation drops which made my eyes sensitive to light. Seeing as how I'd broken my magnetic clip-on sunglasses years ago, I had no shades with me, so on the ride home I got to wear those chic disposable wraparound sunglass thingies. The height of fashion!

After the appointment, I still had almost two hours until I had to be back at work, so my plan was to mark papers at home until it was time to leave.

Oops, guess you have to be able to see to mark papers!

So I did some laundry, tidied the kitchen a bit more, you know, all that really fun Mom stuff.

By the time I left for work, I thought my eyes were back to normal. Well, they seemed back to normal, anyway, until I got out onto the open road - and the sunshine. My commute is about twenty minutes. All the way there, I was squinting and winking and blinking, trying to cope with the bright yellow ball in the sky. Of course, I had already disposed of my chic disposable shades.

So, if your husband was driving my way yesterday, girls, please don't hate me. I was not trying to pick him up. I was not flirting with him. I was not even thinking of winking at him. To be honest, I could not even focus on him enough to see him.

I was just trying to see my way clear to get to work.

And Now From the "Nothing Else Matters" Department

Let me tell you about a friend of mine.

She is part of our Church School team. She and I share the job of teaching the preschoolers. She has two sons; both of them are wonderful, clever, polite little boys. One of them is eight and a half years old; the other one just turned five. I know the five-year-old a little better because he is in our preschool class. He has these huge brown eyes that observe everything. He is quiet most of the time, but when he does speak, it is with a wisdom that contradicts his tender years.

My friend is younger than I am, and she has a promising academic career. She is a sessional lecturer in the English department at our university, and all indications show that she is well-liked by her students. She is keenly intelligent, and is adept at conveying the truth to people in a matter-of-fact manner without offending or antagonizing.

She has been a strong advocate for our Church School. It was almost exclusively her hard work and lobbying that persuaded the church council to hire a paid coordinator for our little outfit last summer, thereby saving us from an inevitable demise.

My friend hasn't had much of an opportunity to benefit from the support we've received from our coordinator. You see, right around the time they hired our new leader, my friend was diagnosed with bowel cancer.

She and her family have fought hard this year. Her husband is like a towering oak, supporting her with his strength and protecting her as well as he can from the harsh elements. I don't see the little boys very often now, but my heart aches for them. No child should have to go down that road.

My friend's parents also attend our church, and yesterday they shared some news with us - even more heart-breaking than the last. Last week, she was admitted to the hospital with what was thought to be a case of pneumonia. Upon further investigation, though, it was found that the villainous cancer had spread to her lungs.

All I can think about are those two little boys. I simply cannot imagine the pain pulsing through that family. And I so wish I could do something - anything - to help. At times like these I feel truly helpless.

I've always made it through rough times by persuading myself that everything happens for a reason. There is a plan somewhere, and we're just not quite meant to comprehend it. This one has me really stumped, though.

Maybe situations like this are meant to teach the rest of us to appreciate life a bit more, to treasure each day, and not to sweat the small stuff. That things like that just don't matter.

That nothing else matters, except the people we love.

There's got to be an easier way to help us learn such a lesson.

I Get theTop Hat.....Or Else

Okay, I'm hoping someone can enlighten me on this.

Last night, the boys and I were playing a game of Monopoly while Main Man was watching the hockey game on tv. We were having fun, and I was using it as a "teachable moment". You know, counting money for the older ones, sorting colours for #3...


Then the hockey game finished. And Main Man came into the kitchen to "help".

You see, this has been a long-standing feud between the two of us since college. He plays cutthroat Monopoly. I don't. Especially when I'm playing against my children.

He convinced the boys - the older ones, anyway - that in order to have any fun in Monopoly, you have to be bankrupting others. They began to try to make deals with me. And when I wouldn't deal, because I wasn't convinced they were good deals, they started to whine. And of course Dad was right in there, "Oh Mom just doesn't play Monopoly the right way, boys."

Finally, I agreed to a deal. But as I handed over my property, I could feel my heart racing. I couldn't really think straight because I could hear my blood pumping in my brain. Suddenly, I found it hard to sit still. And, in order to focus on the decisions I needed to make, I needed the room to be quieter, much quieter.

Yes, my competitive button had been pushed. And it appeared to be fully operational.

Up to this point, the game had been purely recreational. In that split second of the deal, I joined the competitive league.

The sad thing is, the person I wanted to bankrupt wasn't even playing the game.

I was so angry with Main Man for "ruining" our game. In fact, it's the morning after, and I'm still pretty annoyed.

In the end, #1 won. And I was happy for him.

But normally, I am not a competitive person. I am a good sport.

There's just something about my Main Man. He can turn me into my evil twin in the blink of an eye. What's up with that?



PS: On another note - 12 years ago this very moment I was terrified first-time-giving-birth woman. Yes, today is #1's twelfth birthday.

Happy birthday, big guy! Love ya.

Aussie Rules

Main Man and I were at our favourite Irish pub last night. We became rather entranced with the Aussie rules football on the big screen.

It got me thinking how wimpy North American football players must be to wear all that padding. These guys in Aussie rules wear shorts and sleeveless shirts and no visible protection. (There may be padding in places we can't see ;) Players in the CFL and the NFL are armoured to the hilt: helmets, shoulder pads, hip pads and knee pads (and of course that padding we can't see;).

I'm not sure that Aussie rules is all that much safer than North American football, either. Main Man was trying to convince me that the whole idea of the snap at the line of scrimmage in N. A. football is so much more dangerous that it, in itself, constitutes the need for extra protection against concussions and other similar injuries. Maybe, but I'm not entirely convinced.

Still, although the Aussie players look very athletic in their shorts and sleeveless shirts, I have to say that I prefer the N. A. uniforms for one very selfish reason; their little hinies look so cute in those tight little pants.

Rah Rah Team!

Criss Cross Applesauce

Apparently the above phrase is what #3's kindergarten teacher is going to say when she wants them to sit on the carpet for "circle time".

I asked him yesterday if he got a chance to make any new friends at his kindergarten orientation. He told me that he was just starting to get into it, playing with a couple of new boys he hadn't known before, when,"this lady walked into the room, said 'Criss Cross Applesauce', and made us all sit down."

As he rolled his eyes and shrugged in shocked perplexity at this incredible injustice, I tried to explain to him that "that lady" was his teacher and that what she says goes.

Not quite sure the message got through.

Oh well, we have a whole summer to work on it.

Welcome to my Party

I am alone.

I mean that in an entirely good way.

I hadn't realized how significant that sentence could be. I think I could count on one hand the hours I am alone in a month (with the exception of commuting time).

Right now I'm supposed to be marking papers. That was my intention with this time alone. But I feel like a teenager left alone in the house for a weekend. I feel like partying! To a forty-year-old mother, though, that means putting in the earbuds and blogging. Life has become ever-so-slightly sad, hasn't it?

I have the day off today. Main Man is at the office. #1 and#2 are in school, and #3 is at daycare. No one needs me right now. I'm very relaxed.

I am revelling in an Earned Day Off. That means that I have performed a certain number of extra-curricular supervision hours (in my particular case, more than 120 hours of running rehearsals for the school musical and coaching the Debate team) throughout the school year. My payment for those 120+ hours is two days off. Yes, that's right; a 120-hour investment results in a 16 hour pay-out. Yes, I teach Math - I recognise the discrepancy. But that's the way it is. Hey - it's better than no payback at all, which is what I was offered for the first 15 years of my teaching career.

I chose today for my EDO because this morning was our parent orientation meeting for kindergarten next year. Blah, blah, blah....We've heard it all twice before, but #3 will have a different teacher from the one #1 and #2 had, so we felt we should attend.

#3 was pumped, though. He attended what he called his "kindergarten tryout". Now, if it really was a "tryout", I wonder what he expected would happen if he didn't really like it. I needn't worry about that, though, as he loved it. Double loved it! He danced on his way back to daycare after his hour in the kindergarten room. I think we'll have to have a little talk tonight about how long the summer is.

I thought I might feel a bit wistful about it all. I mean, he's my baby. Soon all three of my boys will have "other women" in their lives. But I'm not overly sentimental. I'm excited. Guess enthusiasm actually is contagious.

Well, piles of test papers and notebooks are calling my name. So, party's over folks. Be sure not to drink and drive. Thanks for coming by.....

Field Trip

I am still recovering. I took my students on a field trip yesterday.

The kids were spectacular. I knew they would be. I call them my Dream Team. They are probably the best class I've taught in my entire 18 year teaching career.

The day was long, though, and there was a lot of walking around on cement floors, and my feet and legs still ache, even after going to bed last night before nine o'clock.

We started the day touring a television studio, and I think it maybe wasn't as interesting as the students had expected it to be. I found parts of it fascinating, and it was cool to see where they plan the news and where they film the news. Still, I saw quite a few yawns before the tour was done.

Then we toured a soundstage in our city. Now that was cool! The kids got to walk through sets of a TV show that almost all of them watch. Some of them snapped pictures of each other in the sets, pretending to be the characters. I think they enjoyed that.

On the top floor of the soundstage building was a computer animation school, so the kids were invited to walk through their space, as well. The animation students were working on their term projects, and some of the projects were quite intriguing.

There is a large park area around the soundstage, so my students and I had a picnic lunch there. The weather was perfect. We sat amongst the huge trees and enjoyed our lunch on the grass. As the kids finished, the boys began to play football, and the girls showed off their cartwheels on the pillowy lawn.

We spent the afternoon at a fitness club, where the kids were able to climb walls and play racquetball. I think the wall climbing was the highlight of the day for most of the kids. It was so cool to watch them - especially my really shy, timid ones - tentatively make their way up the wall and, ultimately, triumphantly ring the bell at the top. The fellow working there and teaching them how to do it seemed to have a real instinct for knowing when to push and when to pull back, depending on the kid. He would talk them into climbing higher and higher, even when it seemed to me they were too scared, but then they would ring the bell and their smile would light up the room.

The bus ride back to the school was pretty quiet. The kids were exhausted, I think. My exhaustion didn't hit until about eight o'clock in the evening. Suddenly, I simply could not get up. In fact, it took me about ten minutes to talk myself into getting out of my chair and taking the dozen or so steps to the bedroom to go to bed. I slept very well.

Irony

So after all the company was gone Sunday, after the buffet table was tidied and the leftovers wrapped and refrigerated, after the dirty dishes were loaded into the hungry dishwasher, Main Man and his three boys - including newly-confirmed-into-the-Anglican-faith #3 - sat down, put their feet up and proceeded to watch a movie on TV - Hellboy!

Who's Willing to be Brave Like Me....

....And post their IQ?

And you can't redo and redo until you get the IQ you want! Scout's honour.

Your IQ Is 130

Your Logical Intelligence is Below Average Your Verbal Intelligence is Genius Your Mathematical Intelligence is Genius Your General Knowledge is Genius

www.blogthings.com/quickanddirtyiqtest/

I'm not very logical first thing in the morning after a big weekend, I guess...

Anyway - do try this little quiz. It's a hoot!

Big Weekend

Big weekend this weekend.

It will be #1's confirmation at church. He's been taking classes one day a week since October, and he's ready. He's pretty mature for his age, I think - but then what do I know - I'm just the mother.

Last week, Main Man sat him down and had a little talk with him about Buddhism, Main Man's choice off the spiritual menu. I don't think he meant to convert him on the spot. It would be silly to think he could. #1 and his brothers have been attending church and church school pretty much every week with me since they started breathing - technically even before. To think that #1 would decide a week before his big celebration that he was going to abandon it all and follow the Buddhist route would be rather ludicrous. Still, it was important for Main Man to discuss his faith with him, and it was important to me that Main Man have that opportunity.

We'll have a houseful for brunch on Sunday after the service. I love hosting brunches. They just don't seem as stressful as dinners. We don't have a very big house, so we usually do up a buffet table in the kitchen. Then people can eat at the diningroom table or in the livingroom on trays as they visit. It will be fairly informal. And if the weather's nice, some people may choose to eat in the back yard. That would work out well too.

I'm not the world's best entertainer. I love hosting people in my home, but I'm not the greatest housekeeper, so getting things ready for company is always a little stressful. Saturday will be plum full of dusting, scrubbing vacuuming, etc., and I mean for the whole family. Believe me, I won't be the only maid here!

The tricky thing is that my mother-in-law actually arrives today, so we'll have to do our cleaning blitz around her. Some of you may be saying - get her to help - but, no, I'd rather we do it ourselves, thank you. Sometimes when she helps with things, it's like a two-year-old helping with the baking; it requires more work than doing it myself.

Others of you may be thinking, why didn't Library Mama clean up before MIL was due to arrive? That would be another great question. This has been a very busy week at work. Yesterday was the track and field meet - lots of planning goes into that - and today, my Big Boss from the Big Office comes to tour my library. (Under Pressure!!) Suffice it to say, this weekend snuck up on me like a cat on tiptoe.

And speaking of sneaking up, time to leave for work is sneaking up. Have a great weekend, everyone!

What Do You Call a Main Man with No Arms?

Main Man has been freelancing at home for the last couple of years. A week and a half ago, he started back at an office. Consequently, #3 has started to go to daycare on a regular basis.

Our little man has obviously inherited some of his father's storytelling ability, because at supper last night he shared a tale that he has been telling all the kids at daycare. He has informed them that the reason he's going to daycare now is that his daddy had an operation in which they had to cut off his arms.

That explains those odd looks from the other parents at pick-up time....