I have to take a short hiatus from posting for a few days. My Master's classes are finally over, as of December, but my Comps test is next Saturday, March 4th. By the time I get to the room where I'm supposed to take the test at 9am, I also have to have my portfolio completed. This portfolio is a compilation of three years worth of work and my commentary about the work that I have chosen to showcase. Now, the showing off my work part is not the problem. It's the choosing of which problems to showcase and then to explain why I picked them that is the hard part. So, I am banning myself from posting, and limiting myself to only reading posts and comments for fifteen minutes a day until I can get this thing done. Once it's done, then I need to study for the test on Saturday, so that I can make the 80 that is required to pass. Argh.
So, in all fairness, I didn't want you to have nothing to do while I was "on leave."
Here are the rules of the game:
- Only 2 persons on the raft at a time
- The father can not stay with any of the daughters without their mother's presence
- The mother can not stay with any of the sons without their father's presence
- The thief (striped shirt) can not stay with any family member if the Policeman is not there
- Only the Father, the Mother and the Policeman know how to operate the raft
- To start click on the big blue circle on the right.
- To move the people click on them.
- To move the raft click on the pole on the opposite side of the river.
This is possible, I've done it. Apparently it's some sort of IQ test used in Japan as an interview technique. Hmmm. Like I said, it'll keep you busy until I get back.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Mystery Meat
Can anyone answer me this question...
When I cut a hot dog into pieces and warm it for my child in the microwave, if it's in pieces and the pieces touch, WHY do the pieces spark where they're touching?
And for that matter... if pieces that are touching spark, then why does it not spark and burn up when it's the whole dog in one piece? What the heck?
When I cut a hot dog into pieces and warm it for my child in the microwave, if it's in pieces and the pieces touch, WHY do the pieces spark where they're touching?
And for that matter... if pieces that are touching spark, then why does it not spark and burn up when it's the whole dog in one piece? What the heck?
Handicapped Hilarity
My house is hilarious right now. Or at least I think so.
My wonderful husband, (who had surgery on his elbow three weeks ago) has figured out which things he can do around the house that he doesn't mind doing, and then the parts that he doesn't want to do, he conveniently "can't" do that part. Let me give you a few examples.
- He can cook dinner, using every dish in the cabinet, and then eat and put his plate in the dishwasher, but the 48 pots and pans he used to make the dinner have to be handwashed, and he can't do that part with only one hand. It would put too much strain on his elbow.
- He can do laundry, separate it out, wash all the different loads, get it out of the dryer, but he can't fold it and put it away, because you need two hands to fold a shirt. So, we have a mountain of laundry waiting at home for me to fold and put away, because he's doing so much laundry you would have thought we were going on a week-long trip and every piece of clothing needed to be clean before we left.
- He can sweep the floor, picking up all the chairs and such off the floor before he does it, but he can't put it all back away when he's done.
- He can play with Little Man all afternoon while I go work out, but when I get home, I have to change the diaper, because he can't do it with only one hand.
-He can bathe himself, in the shower now, but he can't give Little Man a bath, because that causes the elbow to stretch out too much.
See what I mean?!? I have a hidden comedian at my house! This is only week three. He was told he'd be off work for twelve. How many more things is he going to decide that he can only do part-way?
I guess I should be thankful that he at least gets the job started for me, but the problem is that I don't have as much time as he does to get all the half-finished projects done before he's starting another one that I'm going to have to finish. I haven't been to bed before eleven all week long. Argh.
To add to the humor, my child has been waking up at 3 am, 2 am, and 1 am on three consecutive nights, standing up in bed ready to get up and play basketball or talk to Daddy or look for Papaw's truck, or anything else that pops in his little mind at hours that are not made for being awake. Last night he finally slept through the night, and by this, I mean he only cried out once at 3 am, looking for Daddy, and I shh'ed him and told him to sleep, and he rolled over and went to sleep.
I wonder what fun stuff I get to do when I get home today!?!
Whatever it is, it can wait while I go work out. A mom has GOT to have ME time. (M= Mommy E= Escape)
My wonderful husband, (who had surgery on his elbow three weeks ago) has figured out which things he can do around the house that he doesn't mind doing, and then the parts that he doesn't want to do, he conveniently "can't" do that part. Let me give you a few examples.
- He can cook dinner, using every dish in the cabinet, and then eat and put his plate in the dishwasher, but the 48 pots and pans he used to make the dinner have to be handwashed, and he can't do that part with only one hand. It would put too much strain on his elbow.
- He can do laundry, separate it out, wash all the different loads, get it out of the dryer, but he can't fold it and put it away, because you need two hands to fold a shirt. So, we have a mountain of laundry waiting at home for me to fold and put away, because he's doing so much laundry you would have thought we were going on a week-long trip and every piece of clothing needed to be clean before we left.
- He can sweep the floor, picking up all the chairs and such off the floor before he does it, but he can't put it all back away when he's done.
- He can play with Little Man all afternoon while I go work out, but when I get home, I have to change the diaper, because he can't do it with only one hand.
-He can bathe himself, in the shower now, but he can't give Little Man a bath, because that causes the elbow to stretch out too much.
See what I mean?!? I have a hidden comedian at my house! This is only week three. He was told he'd be off work for twelve. How many more things is he going to decide that he can only do part-way?
I guess I should be thankful that he at least gets the job started for me, but the problem is that I don't have as much time as he does to get all the half-finished projects done before he's starting another one that I'm going to have to finish. I haven't been to bed before eleven all week long. Argh.
To add to the humor, my child has been waking up at 3 am, 2 am, and 1 am on three consecutive nights, standing up in bed ready to get up and play basketball or talk to Daddy or look for Papaw's truck, or anything else that pops in his little mind at hours that are not made for being awake. Last night he finally slept through the night, and by this, I mean he only cried out once at 3 am, looking for Daddy, and I shh'ed him and told him to sleep, and he rolled over and went to sleep.
I wonder what fun stuff I get to do when I get home today!?!
Whatever it is, it can wait while I go work out. A mom has GOT to have ME time. (M= Mommy E= Escape)
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Coordination or Frustration?
I don't usually forward things to friends, unless they are really good or really funny. This time, though, I am so addicted, I had to know if I was the only one.
I got this in an email from one of those friends that sends you every forward she's ever been sent, like I could forget about her if she didn't bombard my mailbox with every useless piece of mail she's ever read.
Anyway... try this. It's supposed to test your hand/eye coordination, and I can't get past seven seconds. It says if you can get 18 seconds, you're doing good. The Air Force tests fighter pilots with it and wants them to do it for 2 minutes. Holy crud!
Enough talk. TRY IT!
And then tell me how you do.
I got this in an email from one of those friends that sends you every forward she's ever been sent, like I could forget about her if she didn't bombard my mailbox with every useless piece of mail she's ever read.
Anyway... try this. It's supposed to test your hand/eye coordination, and I can't get past seven seconds. It says if you can get 18 seconds, you're doing good. The Air Force tests fighter pilots with it and wants them to do it for 2 minutes. Holy crud!
Enough talk. TRY IT!
And then tell me how you do.
Monday, February 20, 2006
Those Two Little Words
There are two little words that when you hear them, you cringe.
When you hear them at the end of the day, you reply, “Just go to bed and sleep it off.”
When you hear them in the middle of the day, you answer, “Just go to bed and sleep it off.”
When you hear them first thing in the morning, you know that your day is off to a bad start.
When you hear them on an early Monday morning, you know exactly how your week is going to shape up… crummy.
If you had heard them from a woman, it would be no big deal.
If you heard them from a child, you would know exactly what to do next.
When you hear them from your husband, early in the morning on a frigidly cold Monday morning, you know that your bad morning is going to lead to a bad day, which is going to lead to a bad week, and hopefully not ruin a weekend.
What are these two words? As if you didn’t know already, but I’ll tell you anyway, in case you were thinking about some other word.
Those two little words?? I’m sick…
When you hear them at the end of the day, you reply, “Just go to bed and sleep it off.”
When you hear them in the middle of the day, you answer, “Just go to bed and sleep it off.”
When you hear them first thing in the morning, you know that your day is off to a bad start.
When you hear them on an early Monday morning, you know exactly how your week is going to shape up… crummy.
If you had heard them from a woman, it would be no big deal.
If you heard them from a child, you would know exactly what to do next.
When you hear them from your husband, early in the morning on a frigidly cold Monday morning, you know that your bad morning is going to lead to a bad day, which is going to lead to a bad week, and hopefully not ruin a weekend.
What are these two words? As if you didn’t know already, but I’ll tell you anyway, in case you were thinking about some other word.
Those two little words?? I’m sick…
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Nature vs. Nurture
I know I didn't teach it to him... and I don't think he learned it at the sitter's... so that must mean that it was just programmed into him at the beginning of time, and I must now fight forever to change it.
Since when did my child figure out that if he has something on his hand, instead of saying, "Eww" like he used to while holding it up to me to clean off, that now it's easier to just wipe it off on his shirt or nearest piece of furniture.
What?? I hope this phase doesn't last long.
Since when did my child figure out that if he has something on his hand, instead of saying, "Eww" like he used to while holding it up to me to clean off, that now it's easier to just wipe it off on his shirt or nearest piece of furniture.
What?? I hope this phase doesn't last long.
Friday, February 10, 2006
The Mom Thing
I never knew how much I loved being a Mom until now.
I also didn't realize how much being a wife and being a mom are different. Being a wife, I worry about my husband and what I can do to be a better wife. Being a mom, everything little man needs is a priority over my own needs. I never did that as a wife, even though I probably should have. Things change when you have kids, don't they?
Tonight at dinner, we were eating a new chicken dish we were trying for the first time, and my husband was trying to cut his into bite size pieces, rather unsuccessfully. I reached over to hold his plate, so that he could cut a piece without the plate sliding around on the table. That was, apparently, the wrong thing to do. He gave me the "I can do it" phrase, and then used his chest to push the plate back onto the table.
Why do men have to be so independent and stubborn? Why can't they let the mommy do the mommy things that are engrained in the mommy head that she feels the need to do? Like help out a one-armed hubby who apparently needs help. And adjust the shirt on the man who struggles to get one arm in and then his head. And cut the steak into pieces for him that he cooked and was looking forward to so very much.
And when the time comes, the mommy needs a little time to herself, because helping out the daddy who wants no help and the little boy who needs every bit of help he can get can be a little tiresome and stressful. Thank God for the weekend, and for best friends that are also mommies and need the Mommy Time Off as well!
I love being a Mom!
I also didn't realize how much being a wife and being a mom are different. Being a wife, I worry about my husband and what I can do to be a better wife. Being a mom, everything little man needs is a priority over my own needs. I never did that as a wife, even though I probably should have. Things change when you have kids, don't they?
Tonight at dinner, we were eating a new chicken dish we were trying for the first time, and my husband was trying to cut his into bite size pieces, rather unsuccessfully. I reached over to hold his plate, so that he could cut a piece without the plate sliding around on the table. That was, apparently, the wrong thing to do. He gave me the "I can do it" phrase, and then used his chest to push the plate back onto the table.
Why do men have to be so independent and stubborn? Why can't they let the mommy do the mommy things that are engrained in the mommy head that she feels the need to do? Like help out a one-armed hubby who apparently needs help. And adjust the shirt on the man who struggles to get one arm in and then his head. And cut the steak into pieces for him that he cooked and was looking forward to so very much.
And when the time comes, the mommy needs a little time to herself, because helping out the daddy who wants no help and the little boy who needs every bit of help he can get can be a little tiresome and stressful. Thank God for the weekend, and for best friends that are also mommies and need the Mommy Time Off as well!
I love being a Mom!
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Me - 0, Monster - 2 and counting
I am losing the battle.
The laundry monster is winning.
This morning, I got in the shower without a clue of what I wanted to wear to school. So, while I was washing my hair, I decided on an outfit, and got out of the shower looking for it. Shirt, check. Shoes, check. Pants? Pants? Where are they?
I checked every hanger in my closet, on my side, and his, I checked the laundry basket in the closet, I looked in the laundry basket that had clean clothes in it, I came out into the laundry room and looked in the dryer, I looked in the washer, I looked in the piles of clothes that have yet to be washed... NO WHERE!
So, I thought about a different pair, and found them in the dirty pile. Outfit number three later, I finally found something comfortable and not too wrinkled, and I wore that to school.
Now if I can just find the matching sock to Little Man's grey sock before the laundry monster strikes again and takes something else I might need on an early school morning.
The laundry monster is winning.
This morning, I got in the shower without a clue of what I wanted to wear to school. So, while I was washing my hair, I decided on an outfit, and got out of the shower looking for it. Shirt, check. Shoes, check. Pants? Pants? Where are they?
I checked every hanger in my closet, on my side, and his, I checked the laundry basket in the closet, I looked in the laundry basket that had clean clothes in it, I came out into the laundry room and looked in the dryer, I looked in the washer, I looked in the piles of clothes that have yet to be washed... NO WHERE!
So, I thought about a different pair, and found them in the dirty pile. Outfit number three later, I finally found something comfortable and not too wrinkled, and I wore that to school.
Now if I can just find the matching sock to Little Man's grey sock before the laundry monster strikes again and takes something else I might need on an early school morning.
Friday, February 03, 2006
Instant Mother of Two
Today I became the mother of two boys. But this time I didn’t have to suffer painfully or gain any weight. Today my loving husband had surgery on his elbow and right hand. He had carpal tunnel in his right hand and needed repair for tennis elbow. So, now I am at home taking care of my child and my husband. But that’s not the funny part.
The funny part was the sequence of the events that occurred at the surgery center. Before surgery, my husband’s demeanor was pretty good. He was excited that he got to “tattoo” his own arm to remind the surgeon which arm he was supposed to be working on. Then the fun started. They started his IV, gave him a little shot, and she told him, “Here’s your margarita!” He started talking, and we were worried that when he woke up from his surgery he would be combative, so we were discussing our options. Then he said, “When am I satosed to spart feeling this stuff?” Except that’s not what he thought he said. And the poor little nurse thought that meant he couldn’t feel anything and asked if he needed more already. HA! That was the least of his worries! Then they wheeled him off and I went into the waiting room to go grade some tests.
An hour and a half later, they called me back to be there with him when he woke up, so that if he did anything combative, at least I’d be a familiar face to help calm him down. Luckily, we didn’t have to worry about that. He woke up, and the first thing he told the anesthesiologist who told him that surgery was already over was “You didn’t even warn me!” I guess that means that they didn’t tell him he was going to sleep. And then he went back to sleep. And then woke up again, and then to sleep again… I got a lot of grading done! Slowly, the awakenings came a little more frequently, and the words started flowing in more understandable attempts. Except for one of them. At one point, I asked if he needed anything, and he told me no, so when I sat back down, he told me to “keep working on your suck-a-doo-doo.” I guess he meant my Sudoku puzzles… too bad I was still grading!
All in all, he’s fine now, but for a little goofiness sometimes, and a real appreciation for a wife that is taking care of him, and a child that is sweet enough to know that Daddy hurts, so he keeps wanting to “kiss it” for Daddy so that it doesn’t hurt anymore.
I love my little family, funny, frail, and full of love.
The funny part was the sequence of the events that occurred at the surgery center. Before surgery, my husband’s demeanor was pretty good. He was excited that he got to “tattoo” his own arm to remind the surgeon which arm he was supposed to be working on. Then the fun started. They started his IV, gave him a little shot, and she told him, “Here’s your margarita!” He started talking, and we were worried that when he woke up from his surgery he would be combative, so we were discussing our options. Then he said, “When am I satosed to spart feeling this stuff?” Except that’s not what he thought he said. And the poor little nurse thought that meant he couldn’t feel anything and asked if he needed more already. HA! That was the least of his worries! Then they wheeled him off and I went into the waiting room to go grade some tests.
An hour and a half later, they called me back to be there with him when he woke up, so that if he did anything combative, at least I’d be a familiar face to help calm him down. Luckily, we didn’t have to worry about that. He woke up, and the first thing he told the anesthesiologist who told him that surgery was already over was “You didn’t even warn me!” I guess that means that they didn’t tell him he was going to sleep. And then he went back to sleep. And then woke up again, and then to sleep again… I got a lot of grading done! Slowly, the awakenings came a little more frequently, and the words started flowing in more understandable attempts. Except for one of them. At one point, I asked if he needed anything, and he told me no, so when I sat back down, he told me to “keep working on your suck-a-doo-doo.” I guess he meant my Sudoku puzzles… too bad I was still grading!
All in all, he’s fine now, but for a little goofiness sometimes, and a real appreciation for a wife that is taking care of him, and a child that is sweet enough to know that Daddy hurts, so he keeps wanting to “kiss it” for Daddy so that it doesn’t hurt anymore.
I love my little family, funny, frail, and full of love.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
What does that say about him?
This morning I woke up from my dream and immediately got up and checked on my child in his bed. I know you're thinking that I must have had a bad dream about something happening to him, but no, that's not it.
Last night I dreamt that I went in to go get my child, and he wasn't in his bed. His bed was all wet and there were towels on one side and he was nowhere around. Then he called my name and I found him... laying in his laundry basket... because it was dry.
What does that say about my hubby?
Last night I dreamt that I went in to go get my child, and he wasn't in his bed. His bed was all wet and there were towels on one side and he was nowhere around. Then he called my name and I found him... laying in his laundry basket... because it was dry.
What does that say about my hubby?
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