Sell Out

Little girls are full of fairy dust and sparkles. Also, boogers.

August 21, 2009

splash-park

Before bed tonight I scooped Cindy-Lu up into the chair with me where she lay across my lap and jabbered at me. She was so adorable and I couldn’t keep my hands or kisses off of her.

I kissed her cheeks and nose while I marveled over how beautiful she was. I grabbed her hand in mine and played with her fingers and tickled the palm of her hand. I scooped her feet into my hands and bit at her delicious little girl toes. And, finally, I pet her shiny, brown hair.

“You have such pretty hair, Cindy-Lu,” I said to her.

“Oh. There beens a booger in it, but I tooked it out.”

Ah, yes. How lovely.

Back To School Blues. That’s The Lamest Title I’ve Ever Used. Forgive Me.

August 10, 2009

While all of you bitches are off giddily shopping for school supplies and backpacks and new shoes so that you can send your babies away for 8 hours a day, I’m stuck at home creating schedules and lesson plans and trying to restrain myself from driving over to the nearest public school and begging them to take my kids. Don’t get me wrong, I still love homeschooling.

Well, no, that’s kind of a lie.

I love what homeschooling does for my family. I love the flexibility, I love that my kids get to spend time with their daddy (he works weird hours and they’d never see him if they went to public school), I love having a reason to buy truck loads of books. I love that I don’t worry about bullies or bad influences. I love that my son’s teacher likes him and treats him nicely (most of the time). I love not having to wake up at 6am to get everyone out the door on time. I love not spreading peanut butter and jelly on bread every god damned morning before I’ve gotten a chance to even shower.

I do NOT love actually, you know, teaching my kids and being patient with them. I don’t love that some days I want nothing more than to lock them in their rooms and demand that they KEEP IT DOWN, MUMMY WANTS TO DRINK HER VODKA IN PEACE. I don’t love spending mumblemumblesevenhundredmumbledollars on books and knowing that I’ll be spending more throughout the year when I find books that look SO GREAT I can’t pass them up even though I have a pile of books that we’ll never get to already. I don’t love all this planning and scheduling and staying sober so that I don’t accidentally schedule Eeyore to practice his alphabet and Cindy-Lu to practice her long division. I also don’t love long division. I really don’t love that Eeyore wants to learn computer programming and I’m going to have to teach it to him.

I’m just a big whiner today. I don’t love that either. It’s just that everyone else gets so happy and cheerful at this time of year, because they know that soon, so very soon, summer break is over. I’m jealous, yo.

I’m not quite ready for fourth grade AND kindergarten this year. I’m scared. Cindy-Lu could totally kick my ass if she tried and God knows, she’ll probably try. Eeyore is in fourth grade this year and I really feel like we need to push a little harder. Book reports and speeches and term papers and the SATs. You know, usual fourth grade shit.

I guess I do get to participate in a little back to school excitement though, since Cindy-Lu starts three days of pre-school in September. Yes, even though I homeschool I still send her to pre-school. Yes, I know you think that’s weird. Yes, we are doing Kindergarten and pre-school the same year. Yes, I KNOW, you think that’s nuts.

Did any of you actually read this long rambly post? No? I don’t blame you. It didn’t make a lot of sense, did it?

The Pictures Are Because I Get Requests Like “More Pictures of Cleatus, Please.” Not Because They Actually Have Anything To Do With This Post. Blogging Is So Hard.

August 2, 2009

You all know my husband, right? Cleatus? He’s a pretty good guy. Today we went to the mall together (I have been having some weird sort of Gymboree clothing craving and he was nice enough to tag along while I satisfied my need for overpriced children’s clothing.) and as we were passing by a jewelry store he drug me in.

jumping550

I, being the financially responsible, mature adult that I am, said “Oh, no, dear. I already have a ring, let’s just keep walking.”

He responded by pointing to many shiny, glittery rings and asking which I liked best.

Our ten year anniversary is next year, you see, and he wants to know how much money he needs to start saving.

Again, being the responsible, mature woman that I am, I pointed at the largest diamond I could find and asked the saleslady if she had anything a bit, you know, bigger. And more sparkly.

jumping1550

I like to make Cleatus’s life hard. It’s just what I do.

On the way out, I asked if he thought the big huge diamond I liked was a bit too much for me and he responded, sincerely, that nothing was too much for me.

He likes to make me happy. It’s just what he does.

jumping5500

Also, what the hell? I sat down here to make fun of Cleatus, not tell you what a sweet guy he is. I hate when I get all mushy. Now I have to go kiss him. But don’t worry, as I’m kissing him, I’ll reach around and give him a wedgie.