Potty Humor Bridges Generations

Dexter is very sick. The actual vomiting has somewhat subsided since we put him strictly on Pedialyte and because he is consuming gallons and gallons every 4 minutes adequate amounts he is actually managing to stay hydrated. Surprisingly condsidering the diaper issues, as we shall refer to "it", has gotten extraordinarily bad. Horrible. Really, truly, mind boggling. Kick your mama in the face astoundingly bad.

I will never talk about what happened this morning. Never. Not even for candy. Suffice it to say that I had the experience you always hear about as a parent but suspect is a myth generated by other parents as an excuse to work potty humor (that was banned by their Mum at age 8) back into adult conversation with a straight face. Nay. I will not discuss it.

I'm really into prepositional phrases lately. I really need to get over that; it's simply annoying and not at all adequate in carrying my point to fruition. Ha. I love Dictionary's Word Of The Day.

Hydrangea Hoedown

So, I am training for a rather complex new part of my job. It is a challenge even for spastic (yet unapprecietedly brilliant) me. I had a shrink once that said I had ADD but I couldn't listen to him long enough to understand what that meant. I think I understand now.

I am also working having to work through the new curriculum, exactly as the kids will, in advance of them. In other words, I go to 2nd grade math, social studies, language arts, science and bible every night. I also go to 4th grade math, social studies, language arts, science and bible every night. Oh, and by the way I also go to 6th grade math, social studies, language arts, science and bible every night. I also go to pre-k but I can't complain there; I have this whole color and shapes thing down flat. Now let's not add in the enrichment activities I plan or the elective schedules (foreign languages, etc.) that the girls are dying to start this semester. Mind you, I'm not complaining. I have a well documented fear of women's thighs and let me tell you this: there is an immeasurable amount of women's thighs in a PTA meeting; absolutely immeasurable. Therefore I consider myself lucky; I teach and by doing so manage to avoid most situations involving cellulite spread over metal folding chairs. I just wanted you to understand be really impressed with and send me candy what I do every night.

Anyway, all of the above was leading to the fact that Dexter got horribly sick today. Fever sitting at 102 and projectile vomiting; so dehydrated the diarrhea wasn't working out for him and up so many times last night the neighbors said horrible things and I heard them through the floor. Buttheads, anyway..... Called the pedi and she has so many other babies in the office with the same thing she wouldn't even see him. Sooooooooo he's on pedialyte for 24 hours, a tylenol/ibuprofen cocktail, and lots of wiggling & jiggling while pacing. So I'm doing that while going back and forth from my computer classes and to the homeschool area to the curriculum.

I was going to complain about my marriage this post but will instead tell you that I bought a lovely bouquet of flowers today and smashed it on accident. And for anyone that is feeling like this post is a downer - YOU'RE WRONG.

I'm actually having a good day and just wanted to point out that I am a total bad ass. Therefore you should appreciate me more and add my name back to the family tree. And you should send me candy.

Why Mackenzie Will Not Give My Eulogy

Setting the scene: Mom is making out the menu for next week so she can create a grocery list. Mackenzie enters the room with a sweater from Mom's closet..................

Mom: (writing)
Mon: chicken & dumplings
Tue: jambalaya
Wed: leftovers or hot sandwich
Thur:......

Kenzie: Why don't you wear this? Are you too fat for it?

Mom: (writing)
Mon: chicken & dumpings dirt
Tue: jambalaya mud
Wed: leftovers or hot sandwich poo..........
Thur:........

Note To Family: I am never "too fat" for anything. I just occasionally go on religious hiatuses from everything I own.

Go Lick A Pole

It is snowing here. My children completed their schoolwork and went out to play. My oldest daughter dared my middle daughter to stick her tongue to a pole; which she did. And it stuck. The daughter that dared came and got me. We rushed own three stories with warm water. She had already violently removed her tongue and was bleeding no small amount. The neighbors were staring. The third daughter, who's light seems a little dimmer than 40 watts in certain circumstances, never even looked up from where she was drawing on the sidewalk, even while her older sister flailed around with her face stuck to a pole not 3 ft from where she was sitting.

So for anyone awaiting my response via phone, email or smoke signal, please read the above situation. Twice.

The Color Red Is In The Building

Mom: Today we're working on red, Lang. Are apples red?
Lang: yep
Mom: Let's color them red then
Lang: (scribbles wildly across the paper)
Mom: How about a valentine heart? Is that red?
Lang: 'spose I guess yit yis
Mom: Fair enough. Well, color it red cause we 'spose it's red
Lang: (scribbles a little less enthusiastically)
Mom: How about strawberries? Yum, yum! Are they red?
Lang: They yar now............ (scribbles one weak line) I'm yeaving. Don't fayow me.

Fayow means follow for those who don't speak toddler. Yes he actually said this. Yes I blame his sisters. And yes we were done for the day. I must say it went much better than Blue day.