Skip to main content

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Apparently being a homeschool Marm and having babies on the move, who think napping is an optional activity, cuts into my writing time.  A month has just flown by without me.  It isn't for lack of having things to say.  I have lots to say.  I might not remember what I am saying, what I've said, or want I wanted to say most days.  Again, I blame that on the two darling babies who don't love sleep as much as I do.  

It's probably best I haven't written in a month.  It's been a rollercoaster at home, in our state, and across the country.  I've started to write and then deleted more Facebook posts than I have published this month.  Sometimes it just feels good to write it.  It also feels good to delete it when you're done.  The mantra we learned in kindergarten is still true.  "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."  My better half has helped keep me grounded in this, and I appreciate him more everyday because of it.  

Speaking of my better half....is it normal that he is teaching the boys how to armpit fart, mouth fart, and "hand" fart?  I mean, I thought that was something they were going to pick-up in, like, the middle school locker-room.  He said something to the effect of, "if they are going to learn it anyway, I might as well get to teach it to them."  Is teaching them armpit farts actually a privilege?  Am I missing something?!   It's not like teaching them to shoot a gun or drive a car. 

Can I just put out a blanket apology now to all of our friends and the future teachers of our children?  We are raising those kids.  Sorry.  I'm sorry.  I'm so very sorry.  

On the upside, the same guy teaching them the art of the fart, is also teaching them, in this crazy election climate, to respect and follow the law and the leaders of our city, state, and country.  No matter who is leading.  No matter who wins.  

Teaching respect.  Now that is worth something.  And for that, I'm not even a little sorry. 

Comments

  1. NatalieNovember 13, 2020 at 9:46 PM

    I still remember your mom and I arm pit farting. We were and maybe still very good at it! I’ll never tell...

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Pink Stinks

Our girls, like most four-year-old girls, love pink.  And purple.  And sparkly things, unicorns, butterflies, lizards and cats.  But especially pink.  Their brothers aren't so fond of pink.  They prefer the color dirt.  I know this because it's what they have chosen for the color of our walls, windows, light switches and their socks.   "Do you like pink?"  Emerson asked Fischer one day not long ago. "No." "Why?" "Because pink stinks !" Cue 'angry tears and screaming.' This of course delighted her brother who began using the line anytime he wanted to see her cry.  Which was often.  It didn't change her passion for the color, however.  She still demanded the pink plate, pink cup, pink shirt, pink shoes, and pink gum if she had the choice.  Because pink is the best when you're four.   Fast forward a couple of weeks.  The girls were collecting pieces of garbage off the van floor.  Why?  I don't know, b...
Post a Comment
Read more

Fear Factor

 Did you know that it has been not  scientifically proven that a baby can smell her mother's presence through a closed door.  It's probably the smell of fear that they are actually attuned to, but nonetheless.  I hold my breath and walk on tiptoe past the baby's room and still get busted nearly every time.  My fear is pungent. Besides waking the babies, I have another fear currently in the forefront of my mind.  Don't mind me, this is just another episode of True Confessions.. .  Here it is: the boys are getting so much outside time that they are building up incredible endurance.  It's great really, but it is   becoming  so hard to wear them out. It used to be an hour at the playground and we were golden.  Now, they basically put in an eight-hour workday, and it's just a warm-up!  Does anybody have a treadmill....?  Real school is going to be a bit of an adjustment for the big guy next fall.    Speaking of s...
4 comments
Read more

Reflecting

It's August. I guess I can stop waiting for that call from the Oregon Department of Education.  It appears I didn't earn teacher of the year after all.  I wonder if it had something to do with my mask policy?  It definitely could have been the mask policy.   Personally, I thought the duct tape worked great.   *Sigh* It was probably the mask policy.  You win some.  You lose some.  Better luck next year.   Speaking of next year, we are trying a hybrid homeschool program.  Sawyer gets to go to school twice a week and learn at home the other days.  I'm confident he will fall in love with his teacher in the first eight minutes.  She is young, cute and very enthusiastic.  It's going to either make him work really hard or be a complete distraction.  Either way, on the "home" days, I'm going to make her look really good.  Pajama Mama is neither young nor cute and I'm rarely enthusiastic (which may have als...
4 comments
Read more