Cruella de Vil

I was doing dishes this morning when Piglet decided to have one of her bizarre conversations. 
Piglet: Mom we got to choose our moms in Heaven.
Me: Why did you choose me?  You could have gotten a rich mom, or a nice mom, or a cute and funny mom.
Piglet: You are nice......sometimes. And you are cute and funny.  And I don't know any rich moms. 
Me: You could have had another dad too.
Piglet: Other dads creep me out.
Me: So why do you think you chose me?  What were you thinking when you saw me? 
Piglet: You looked like you needed a lesson and I thought, "I can teach her a lesson."
Me: Oh ya, what are you going to teach me?
Piglet: To be nice......or Spanish.  Wait what does cruel mean?
Me: To be mean.
Piglet: Ya, I'm gonna teach you not to be cruel.

I guess she feels like not getting her way 100% of the time is cruel on my part.  Even I haven't learned that lesson yet.  Lesson # 12: You Don't Always Get What You Want......And How To Move On Gracefully.

I Bit The Bullet

Er, that is a picture that I took while I was waiting to board my ship to paradise....the boarding happened to be much later than expected.


Something else I didn't really expect. I pulled the eldest son, Farm Boy out of school. There wasn't one big reason. I have wanted to homeschool all of the kids for a long time. He was being overlooked and not challenged. And he HATED school. HATED it. I felt like I owed him to try something else since four continual years of hating 75% of his day didn't ever make him wake up with a different attitude. I knew it would be a challenge. Still...I didn't really expect what I got.

We quickly formed a sweet little co-op of our own with two other families and two fun mamas. The kids are pretty awesome and it is nice to have a group for the male child to hang with, especially around holidays. We meet on a weekly basis and have a fun project which the kids get through with gritted teeth so that they can move on to challenging each other on the Wii (yuck).

For the first few days while Farm Boy and I were on our own, it was like all of the dreams I had about homeschooling.....except for the missing ten other children and the long farm table. I tested him out of 3rd grade and moved him on to some other things that didn't glass over his eyes. He read, he wrote, he did algebra. And then the honeymoon adjourned rather quickly. Despite how terrifying and wicked mean I find myself, Farm Boy is not ruffled or intimidated. I hate it. If I don't have intimidation I have nothing. Even love doesn't pack the punch pure meanness does. Farm Boy and I are a poor personality match. I pray that someday he finds a girl just like his dad that can put up with the shear amounts of stubborn that spit out of him like lava. He has yet to actually win one of our scuffles.....but he is getting close. Ssh don't tell him. I'll flat out let it be known I dream about starting to drink.

All of the field trips, organic learning in situation, brain bending science experiments, leading Farm Boy to find internal motivation, and break out literary adventures......they are in the crapper and I am about ready to flush. I think my expectations were too high. I think learning is so fun. I want it to be amazing and exciting. I think he should pick up on whatever I present him before I am even finished. I think that I don't want to have to stand behind him with a bull whip and physically press him into doing a teeny weeny bit of work.

At this present moment it is 4:38 p.m. mountain standard time. He has done nothing more than eek out a few words of writing. He has yet to attempt his math. He did not read anything. There was no science experiment. He did however move all of the chairs from one room to another, make cup upon cup of chocky moomie for Nugget, play football with Nugget, make two meals for himself, poke me everytime he walked by, help unload groceries, and explain a movie that I haven't seen. And still......still! Even though I want to drown myself or put my passport to good use by disappearing.......I STILL think that for right now, this is a better choice for Farm Boy than going to an organized school institution.

11 Step Program For Those Thinking of Having Kids....

Yep that's right, she's in white.......

So I smuggled this from FB.  My son is telling me right now that if people read this they won't want kids.  The following is only partially true.  It's actually much worse.  But it also doesn't tell the good parts, like watching them sleep (ya, I know.....they are unconscious!), and giving them kisses and snuggles, or when they say, 'I love you." 


Lesson 1


1. Go to the grocery store.
2. Arrange to have your salary paid directly to their head office.
3. Go home.
4. Pick up the paper.
5. Read it for the last time.


Lesson 2
Before you finally go ahead and have children, find a couple who already are parents and berate them about their...
1. Methods of discipline.
2. Lack of patience.
3. Appallingly low tolerance levels.
4. Allowing their children to run wild.
5. Suggest ways in which they might improve their child's breastfeeding, sleep habits, toilet training, table manners, and overall behavior.
Enjoy it because it will be the last time in your life you will have all the answers.



Lesson 3
A really good way to discover how the nights might feel...

1. Get home from work and immediately begin walking around the living room from 5PM to 10PM carrying a wet bag weighing approximately 8-12 pounds, with a radio turned to static (or some other obnoxious sound) playing loudly. (Eat cold food with one hand for dinner)

2. At 10PM, put the bag gently down, set the alarm for midnight, and go to sleep.

3. Get up at 12 and walk around the living room again, with the bag, until 1AM.

4. Set the alarm for 3AM.

5. As you can't get back to sleep, get up at 2AM and make a drink and watch an infomercial.

6. Go to bed at 2:45AM.

7. Get up at 3AM when the alarm goes off.

8. Sing songs quietly in the dark until 4AM.

9. Get up. Make breakfast. Get ready for work and go to work (work hard and be productive)

Repeat steps 1-9 each night. Keep this up for 3-5 years. Look cheerful and together.



Lesson 4  Can you stand the mess children make? T o find out...
1. Smear peanut butter onto the sofa and jam onto the curtains.

2. Hide a piece of raw chicken behind the stereo and leave it there all summer.

3. Stick your fingers in the flower bed.

4. Then rub them on the clean walls.

5. Take your favorite book, photo album, etc. Wreck it.

6. Spill milk on your new pillows. Cover the stains with crayons. How does that look?


Lesson 5  Dressing small children is not as easy as it seems.

1. Buy an octopus and a small bag made out of loose mesh.

2. Attempt to put the octopus into the bag so that none of the arms hang out.

Time allowed for this - all morning.


Lesson 6     Forget the BMW and buy a mini-van. And don't think that you can leave it out in the driveway spotless and shining. Family cars don't look like that.

1. Buy a chocolate ice cream cone and put it in the glove compartment.
Leave it there.

2. Get a dime. Stick it in the CD player.

3. Take a family size package of chocolate cookies. Mash them into the back seat. Sprinkle cheerios all over the floor, then smash them with your foot.

4. Run a garden rake along both sides of the car.



Lesson 7

Go to the local grocery store. Take with you the closest thing you can find to a pre-school child. (A full-grown goat is an excellent choice). If you intend to have more than one child, then definitely take more than one goat. Buy your week's groceries without letting the goats out of your sight. Pay for everything the goat eats or destroys. Until you can easily accomplish this, do not even contemplate having children.

Lesson 8
1. Hollow out a melon.

2. Make a small hole in the side.

3. Suspend it from the ceiling and swing it from side to side.

4. Now get a bowl of soggy Cheerios and attempt to spoon them into the swaying melon by pretending to be an airplane.

5. Continue until half the Cheerios are gone.

6. Tip half into your lap. The other half, just throw up in the air.


You are now ready to feed a nine- month-old baby.



Lesson 9
Learn the names of every character from Sesame Street , Barney, Disney, the Teletubbies, and Pokemon. Watch nothing else on TV but PBS, the Disney channel or Noggin for at least five years. (I know, you're thinking What's 'Noggin'?) Exactly the point.



Lesson 10

Make a recording of Fran Drescher saying 'mommy' repeatedly. (Important: no more than a four second delay between each 'mommy'; occasional crescendo to the level of a supersonic jet is required). Play this tape in your car everywhere you go for the next four years. You are now ready to take a long trip with a toddler.

Lesson 11
Start talking to an adult of your choice. Have someone else continually tug on your skirt hem, shirt- sleeve, or elbow while playing the 'mommy' tape made from Lesson 10 above. You are now ready to have a conversation with an adult while there is a child in the room.

This is all very tongue in cheek; anyone who is parent will say 'it's all worth it!' Share it with your friends, both those who do and don't have kids. I guarantee they'll get a chuckle out of it. Remember, a sense of humor is one of the most important things you'll need when you become a parent!

Crazy Eye

Where does the market for this come from.  Really........I want an answer.

Nugget #3 just became the second piglet to need glasses.  I didn't figure it out until 'Kindergarten Kickout', as she put it.  She totally failed her eye test.  I take that personally on more than one level.  A) It's not acceptable to fail a test.  It actually makes me feel dumb by association.  I feel like she didn't study hard enough and it's my fault for not quizzing her properly because I am a bad parent.  B) I feel pretty bad that my weak genetic makeup spread to my little beauty. 

What makes me feel a wee bit better is the fact that she was totally into eye wear as a fashion statement.  She had a wild time trying on pair after pair of pink and purple glasses. 
The doctor explained that because we had no idea she was half blind in one eye, the other eye had to do all of the work in order for her to see anything.  One eye was like a fat couch potato with a hairy back and long thick toe nails.  He didn't do anything but sit in a dirty recliner with crusty dishes and beer bottles surrounding him, watching soft core porn.  That eye disgusts me.  The other eye has sweet little biceps and triceps.  Her hammies and quads are cut.  Her abs have nary an ounce of fat.  She is so perky and toned that she can get away with boy shorts and a hot pink sports bra.  I'm pretty sure she has lush shiny dark brown hair.  I love this eye.  If Hairy Back doesn't get off the recliner and start pulling his weight, we might have to knock Perky Pink out with a roofie.  In other words, Piglet's eye is lazy.  If her glasses don't start to correct the problem, she may have to wear a patch.  I will most  likely buy her the heart one pictured above...*snicker*. 
Piglet didn't care.  She knew she looked just as good in glasses as without.  She immediately came home to spread the good news to Superman.   "Dad, guess what!!!!!!! I have a crazy eye!!!"

I Had A Pipe Dream

I had a dream......I'm convinced now that it was a pipe dream.  I have longed to homeschool my kiddos.  I pictured us going on adventurous outings that I could turn into wonderful learning experiences.  We would gather round the long farm table and plan our own Duggar style steel structure.
My dream bubble was popped with the tip of a plastic rifle which was then used to hit the walls and other children.  The Nuggets were having a down day.  They didn't play with friends.  The TV wasn't on.  They had to finish chores and were dismayed to find that the only compensation for finished chores was the personal pride they had in doing them.  After dishes and vacuuming and doing everyone's hair and feeding all of the puppies, I sat down to make wedding lists and get my craft on making 'kissing balls' for my sister's wedding.
This would be when Hell let loose it's horror.  Piglet feels that she is above having to clean her own messes up.  Infact she feels it is beneath her to wipe her own tush.....it's just too plebeian.  Having only dwelt in our home for 5 years, it seems she doesn't quite understand that I NEVER give in.  I sent her to her room and let her know she wasn't coming out until she picked up her 38 pairs of pajamas and 4000 Carebears.  She on the other hand is genetically incapable of not getting her own way.  Piglet stood in the door way and lured the other children to her just to ridicule and smack them.  She cried for four hours.
The Farm Boy did a great job doing his chores but ran out of steam when he realized that I wasn't going to 'take him somewhere to do something'.  He shoved the couch across the floor and screamed that he was starving.  I assume hunger was the only emotion he was willing to cop to.  I felt like I could brighten his day by offering up a monetary reward.  I told him that I would pay him 25 cents for every diaper he changed this summer.  The real reward for him would be to learn how to be a great dad at the age of 8.  He agreed that he would either change the diapers or find a way to potty train the wee Nuggie.  But when presented with the challenge of a poopy diaper, the two boys chased each other with the scissors I had been using to make paper flowers out of.....finally locking themselves in the library.  Concerned, I pulled myself from the 'crafting' zone I had worked up a sweat getting into.  When the locked door swung open I found Baby on the floor with his diaper half pulled down like underwear.  Poop covered wipes were strewn on the floor and some how his plush bumbum was still caked with poop as was his foot and hand.  I had to fire my 8 year old son from his first job.
The Fire helped me make flowers until she opted to do math worksheets because she didn't want to get involved in anything that seemed weak and girly.
Baby Nugget spent the day eating popsicles and hitting everyone that didn't get out of his arm length in time.  Daddy come home for a brief time and Nugget felt he should be able to climb in the back of the police car and speed off.  When I had to stop him from pumping his fat toddler legs after the fleeing car, he popped me in the face.  This would be the point where I let out a gutteral wail and knew that public school had its good points.  My heart broke a little.
The following is a text conversation that I had when I broke down and called the police for back up.
ME:  I would like to kick the @sses of your children......only because I love you am I offering up the first swing.
OFFICER BOB:  It has been that good of a day?
ME:  Yes.I am mostly assured that I am about to turn violent and wipe out the next generation.
BOB:  I will call as soon as I am done at the hospital.  (He was on a DUI)
ME:    (here I said some things not worth repeating)
BOB:  Being at home sounds like more fun to me than what I have done.
ME:  Well if you saw any kind of blood or vomit I am jealous...only lots of crying, and I mean for hours at this point, some poop on the floor and various body parts not usually associated with poop, slamming of doors, snot and abuse of varied furniture pieces.
BOB:  And what did the kids do while you had your tantrum?
ME:  While I threw poop and smeared it like an ape whilst wailing like a pig with its throat only half way slit....the children sat with hands folded all in a line on the couch with their hair in perfect condition.  It was too adorable to explain.  One would have to see it for ones self.
BOB:  Wow, just as I pictured it in my head.
ME:  Well it seems you know all 5 of us better than we know ourselves.

Luckily after that I was able to laugh it off, read a dirty book, and hold the baby while he slept.