Hallelujah!!

The heavens have opened up....Garrett has found an author and series of books that he likes - actually loves - he can't put them down. Anyone who knows my little bundle of testosterone knows that he can be a little stubborn (understatement of the year?) especially when it comes to reading. I don't remember it being quite so difficult with my girls...they have had so many wonderful options (American Girl, Little House on the Prairie, etc). Now I know that you are thinking that boys can read and enjoy some of those as well, but in our house, if one of the girls does it, it is automatically classified as a girl thing...and Garrett will not touch it.

So today, we finally made an attempt at his weekly homework that is due on Monday (did I mention that he is a horrible procrastinator, too?) which includes 80 minutes of reading. Worried that he would never accomplish that feat, I started racking my brain and tried to remember Mrs. Quigley's 4th grade reading list. That brought us to the Soup series by Robert Newton Peck. He might like it.

The series includes real life stories based upon two best friends, Mr. Peck (Rob) and "Soup." Let me assure you that it includes the mischief that my son so heartily understands. Picture two adolescent boys breaking the stained glass church windows while whipping apples - or the boys tying up (yes, I said tying up) an old neighborhood lady so she wouldn't tell. To some boys, it would seem a great work of fiction - an escape of sorts, but to Garrett and those of us who know him so well, it represents reality.

If you happen to have a little monster like mine, and need to instill a love of reading, run to your nearest library and check out Soup. No disappointments...

Thank you Mr. Peck. Knowing that you made it into adulthood in one piece and became a successful author makes you my new hero!

10 Simple Rules (from Daddy ;o)

I found this earlier today - how relevant it is...

10 Simple Rules for dating my daughter

Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure not picking anything up.

Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.

Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this
compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.

Rule Four: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate: when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.

Rule Five: In order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early."

Rule Six: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.

Rule Seven: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process that can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?

Rule Eight: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter:
- Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than an Ogden stool.
- Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight.
- Places where there is darkness.
- Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness.
- Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to her throat.
- Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature chainsaws are okay.
- Hockey games are okay.
- Old Folks Homes are better.

Rule Nine: Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a pot-bellied, balding, middle-aged, dim-witted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.

Rule Ten: Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy outside of Hanoi. When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you roll into the driveway you should exit your car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car; there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.

My little activist...

Okay, so I'm typically not very controversial, but....

The girls and I are animal rights veg-heads. The great thing about Asheville is a)there is a great vegetarian vibe and community (not to mention awesome restaurants ;o) and b)if someone is not vegetarian, they tend to at least be accepting and accommodating. We couldn't ask for more, right? Not in the schools, it seems.

It started with Lana coming home from 6th grade telling us that the class will be dissecting in science this year. Nope- not gonna happen...so I made a casual mention to the teacher yesterday, thinking that she would be most accepting (especially since Lana and Garrett attend a charter school that has a somewhat more liberal outlook). I was a little surprised when the teacher gave her schpill about how it's only a body part, and the animal was already dead, blah, blah, blah...and that this was 6th grade - "they'll be fine." You gotta be kidding me! So because the animal is already dead, that makes it less inhumane? Nope..not in my (and definitely not in Lana's) book. When we left, I told Lana that the decision was in her hands, but I would support her and fight for her. What did my little princess do? She came home and ordered a bunch of these for her classmates and friends:



What a little activist she is becoming...I'm so proud!

Mom rocks the Keds....

So...as I was showing Devil (oops, I mean Angel ;o) Daughter the old 80's pics, we came across this one:

Her comment? Oh yeah Mommy - rocking those Keds! Hey, what can I say? Keds were rad...HAHAHAHA

We interrupt this regularly scheduled blog...

for a BLAST FROM THE PAST - gotta love the 80's!!


We thought we were so cool...(though we could've used a flatiron ;o)

Love ya girlie!

Little did we know that real life was just around the corner...

It makes me CrazyLady!

I remember an old office/school supply commercial (Staples, maybe?) that would play in August and September. A father would dance down the aisle with his shopping cart to the tune of "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year." My kids were 4, 2, and newborn back then, and school seemed so exciting and fun...oh yeah, and having a 6 hour break sounded like heaven!! ;o)

Fast forward to 9 years later, and that appeal of the school year starting is gone. With a bang, the first day of school starts our high-speed train of homework, activities, and schedules (did I mention homework?). 3 kids, "real" homework (the kind I can't help with ;o), dinner, showers, and plain ole veg time...and a hubby who is gone all the time...ARRRRGGGHHH. Why don't I ever see how nice and simple summer is?

Here's to hoping I figure this one out :o)

It's official...

WOO-HOO!!! We are finally moving out of what was supposed to be a very temporary carriage house/garage apartment. More than a year later, we have found the right house...including 2 bathrooms and a dishwasher - both of which can be described as a rarity in western NC - and a playroom (or now that the kiddos are older, should we call it a rec room? ;o). AND...the landlord is pet friendly!! I see a new, big (Great Dane?) dog in our near future. The excitement abounds!

Now begins the real work...cleaning and packing - in 2 weeks, so can have it all done before I start my new job (and the kids start their list of activities) on September 2. Feel free to offer help (haha), I am sure that Robbie will need it!