Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Why homeschooling makes me laugh...

I know I'm a couple of weeks late bringing this up, being that Columbus day is long since over and gone, and you're all done with your big celebrations.

Personally, I don't really care to celebrate Columbus day. I'll just be honest here, it's kind of an irritating holiday for me. Typically, I spend a small portion of the day walking down to the the mailbox. Then I get there and realize that I just wasted five whole minutes of my life that I'll never get back, walking to a god-forsaken mailbox, on a supposed holiday that no one actually celebrates. Except for bankers and mailmen. I usually allow myself just a little slice of bitterness as I trudge forlornly back to my driveway. It's easy to forget that I used to really whoop it up on Columbus day back when I was in banking. In fact, I really loved having a paid day off that no one else got. Serves me right I suppose.

Okay. So the reason for this post, (and there is always a reason, lest you doubt me for even a second) is that my son recently finished a report on Mr. Columbus. Not such a good guy really. Did you know that? He was kind of slimy sort. Liar. Slave driver. Swindler... you know, really "quality character" things that you'd want to celebrate by giving the world no mail for an entire day. (I promise to drop this now.)

But the point is, that JJ drew the cutest picture for his report and I laughed for three whole minutes as I read it. (Almost makes up for the five I lost when..... Oh yeah. I said I'd stop.)

If you can't read it, allow me to decipher it for you. The first picture is of Columbus's three ships. Presumably, Columbus is shouting at someone on the shore, "Earth is round." And that ignorant naysayer on land is shouting, "No it's not!" And if you look very closely at the picture, it appears that the land-loving unbeliever is cupping his hands around his mouth so as to carry his shout further. Hence, my three minutes of laughter.
Admittedly, it takes very little to make me laugh for three whole minutes these days.

I blame homeschooling.

And mailmen who take days off.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Are you ready for some football?

We had family pictures today with my side of our extended family. It's sort of a tradition for my Mama, so we do it each year. We wore our Seahawk colors/jerseys this time around, cause that's how we kick it. Oh, and fun fact. We took photos at the high school that my brother, my husband, and I graduated from... the stories I could tell. Oh, and another fun fact. I'm wearing my man's high school football number on my tee shirt. Yes, I am that girl. (Thank you for loving me anyway.)

Have you ever seen one of these? It's a one-man sled/tackling dummy.
Guess who stands on top of these things?
Dummies. What? (FYI, I'd have said that regardless who was on it, but this was the only photo I could find of a dude on a one-man sled. I'm sure John Kerry is a very nice man.)

After family photos, my man and brother were reliving the glory days of football on this very field. Adrain decided to show my kids how to properly pop the sled with your shoulder. Apparently, there is proper technique for being a burly man about to drive into something like this. Let's not ask.

I laughingly jumped on top of the sled, thinking, "Of course Adrain won't actually tackle this thing with his wife on it..."
He laughingly thought, "Of course she would grab onto a handle and expect me to bump it a little if she actually jumped onto this thing..."

And that's when my man crouched, and sprung into that sled and knocked me backwards. Hard. I landed on my rear and it knocked my shoe off. It knocked my shoe off y'all!! Well, all but the ankle strap which stayed fixed securely onto a chunk of skin that was now dangling from the top of my foot.

It's not his fault that he outweighs me by 100 lbs. It's not his fault that he mistakenly thought there was a handle for me to grip. It's not his fault that he barely hit that thing and I went flying. Trust me, I know he barely hit it too, because I saw him tackling and flipping that thing upside down just for fun afterward. Twice. (That would have had my heart throbbing under any other circumstance, but my foot was the only thing doing any throbbing at that point.)
So in closing, I'd like to say a few things. First, that right there, is a fine piece of Man-manship, and I for one, would not want to be on the receiving end of a real life tackle. Second, I feel a renewed confidence in my man's physical ability to take someone out if necessary. I would not want to be that guy.

And lastly, I assign a ten yard penalty for roughing the wife.

Other possible titles for this post;
"A man, a woman, and a sled..."
"He almost knocked my socks off..."
"How to get your man to apologize to you 842 times"
"How do you spell guilt? A-D-R-A-I-N."

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Let me tell you how I feel about kites...

Kite flying, in my opinion, is a sick joke. Oh it all starts out so innocently. Your child gets a kite in the midst of a birthday gift-opening flurry, and you stash it away for a rainy windy day. You think your children have forgotten about it, but the first day that has even the softest breath of wind, and they are jumping up and down begging to go fly kites. Children have the memory of an elephant, in case you weren't aware of that. They forget nothing when it comes to birthday presents.
While driving to the playground, they occupy themselves with bouncing up and down on the backseat, singing, "Let's go fly a kite" from Mary Poppins. What did I tell you? Innocent. But don't be fooled.
You lick your finger and hold it up to see what direction the wind is blowing, and your baby begins to unravel the string, pure joy lighting up her features. She has no idea what's in store for her with this kite. And frankly, neither do you. You've been semi-imagining laughing children, running back and forth with a kite gently swaying, high up above. You can see it dip and dive, and everyone is smiling in your little ignorant daydream. You are under the false impression that this kite is your friend.
The first thing you know, the Daddy is giving general instructions, setting the kite up, and getting the children off running. He barely misses decapitation from a low-flying, wayward kite string, as children go running in opposite directions. Then the kite gets dragged for a quarter of a mile, as children easily forget to run and watch the kite. No one can hear anyone in the wind, and you are suddenly very aware that it's freezing cold out here.
Next thing you know, people are quitting all over the place. Key people. Star people. Kite runner types, that are supposed to be in charge of this operation. They are just throwing down their kite in disgust, and letting the wind take over...
Staring off into the heavens, imagining what might have been if only they were the boss. But here's the truth. The kite is the boss. It's got a mind of it's own, and you need to develop a healthy respect for it.
Because if you don't, in the end, your left lying on the cold, hard, ground, with a kite that won't lift, wondering who dared to give you this for your birthday seven months ago, because you want to give them a piece of your mind right about now.
But then... like a sunny break in the clouds, the Daddy comes through and saves the day with Frisbees, basketballs, and fun.

Because bossy kites are no match for a Daddy like this, any day of the week.

(Prrrrrrrr..... )