football! already?

Anybody who watches three games of football in a row should be declared brain dead. Okay no rioting, I did not say this first. Erma Bombeck said this ages ago. It just happens to still hold true. hehehe

Don't get me wrong, footballs great-for about five minutes. Then I've had my fill of looking at the guys butts in those tight uniforms. But then the refs walk away and there's nothing to look at other than the football players huddling.

Seriously what is so fun about twenty-two guys running around after an inflated pig gut. They run one way-then they run the other. Then they run one way-then they run the other. For THREE hours this goes on. And then the next game comes on! It never ends!

I am so going to get it after this from my family. My brother was the star quarterback for years. I grew up with football twenty-four/seven till they finally gave me a t.v. for my bedroom. I rejoiced! It only took sixteen years for them to come to the realization that I wasn't going to grow into liking football.

Don't get me wrong there are several things I adore about fall. It's just funner to tease my family about their obsession. They have a football competition every year, with a trophy for the winner. Every week they all pick whose going to win what game and tally it up till pro-bowl season.

I tried to play but I figured out halfway through the season two things.One I didn't have a chance in Hades seeing has how I knew nothing about the teams. And two I didn't care. But listening to them talk about it and rib each other is enough for another blog altogether.

Then there's the fact that a season is supposedly like thirteen weeks. Bah! That is such a lie. First you got pre-season. And everyone gets in a tizzy about how their team is going to do. Does pre-season ever really indicate how good the team is going to do? Not according to the men I know. Their team saved the best plays and players for the real season. Element of surprise!

Then comes the real season. One week your team is going to the SUPERBOWL next your ready to jump ship. Unless your a Chiefs fan than your just someone who lives in Dissapointment Land. (I am so going to get reamed for this. But it's so worth it.) You never really get out of that rut.

Then there's the post-season. Every bowl known to man. Not to mention one's that make you go they named something as masculine as a football game after flowers. I know my man is all about roses how bout yours? It never ends it seems.


And then blessedly baseball begins. Somebody shoot me already?

Authors Edit

It has been brought to my attention that the season is not thirteen weeks, but sixteen weeks with talk of extending it to eighteen next year. yay. (read sarcasm)

oh the thrills of writing

I have been so wrapped up in writing, I looove it. You might be surprised but my imagination stretches places you'd never imagine. I had writer's block, call it lesson planning if you will, but now that's taken care of.

Thanks to my parents this book has been in my head since a child. They always told me how they got me from the gypsies. That's all it took. I've been enthralled by gypsies every since. While babysitting once for friends of Mama and Daddy I accidentally convinced the girls my story was true. I just thought I was keeping them entertained.

Now my kids love to hear my "history" too. Not to mention the stories I tell them at bedtime. I've been working on a book for my Daddy and Christopher for a year and just haven't got the illustrations done yet. And I do all the kids' books for school like books on the different continents and such.

Right now I am working on a resume and picking the best of my blog for a weekly column in a newspaper. This is keeping me on edge, I'm sure you can imagine. But I need to quit dragging my feet.

It has been suggested by some of my homeschooling friends I upload the books for school and sell them. E-books I believe they're called. So many different propositions, and so much to think about. I need a manager, Mama want to be my manager? lol.

Maybe one day I will be famous, I'd just settle for my writing to be well known. I love to write, I enjoy it even more when people enjoy my writings. I remember writing little chapter books as a child, so its been apart of me for a long time.

The ramblings here today have diverted from the path I originally meant to take, but hey you know me by now. Ewww shiny is my middle name. I guess I'm just writing it all down so I can get some perspective on what way to go.

silence is deafening-so is a child's observation

I have come to the conclusion that the only way to stop the embarrassing updates given by our children in public is duct tape. I thought about just tying them to the bed-but that's just cruel. Don't judge me you know you've considered it. For all you out there who think a hillbilly would actually do this-QUIT STEREOTYPING.

For all us with children you have experienced this at one time or another. Try having that times four-five if you count Honeybear. We all know our men do it we just try not to think about it. (As he reads this over my shoulder going "Name one time!" Then as I list the top five, he goes "Don't print that.") And we wonder where the kids get it from?

But as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, these outbursts are frequently seen coming moments beforehand. Unfortunately, a child's mouth is quicker than a mother's hand clamping over it. And we are left red faced, and stuttering an apology of "I don't know where they got that." Of course we do-T.V.!
But looking at the situation in privacy how often is an innocent child's question or observation wrong?

I'm sure you remember the tale of Martin asking the larger woman when her baby was due. If not-your better off. But what about the ones made about people we want to say something to. Case in point: Degan, roughly a week ago, standing at Wal-Mart in the check out line behind a couple of college guys. I should have seen him staring but I was wrangling Bella. He looks up meets the guys eyes and-"You need a better belt, your underroos are showing." Somehow this got even Bella's attention cause she stopped squirming- maybe it was just me stopping breathing who knows. I look at Degan then back to the guy then back to Degan. There is nothing to be said for this except "Degan come over here and quit bothering them." Like a deer in the headlights, I wonder if it was as obvious to them as to the lady behind me that I was just acting like I heard nothing. (Channeling my inner Hogan's Hero. "I KNOW NOTHING!")

Now here's the problem-can I really fault my son for stating a fact? Considering how often I have said the exact same thing to him before leaving the house, he thought he was being helpful. As he said to me when I proached the subject in the car "Mom if I was hanging out I would want someone to tell me that must be embarrassing." If only all teenagers and gangsta wannabes thought the same thing.

Another point in fact: Madison, not to long ago (at least not long ago enough not to make me cringe) while eating at a restraunt. (One we will not be going back to anytime soon) "Her hands are dirty, I can't eat that." I looked at the server, apologized profusely (while stealthly inspecting her hands) and accepted the food. Madison persisted and we told her to hush. She refused to eat, while the rest of us dug in. When we returned to the car I asked Madison why she was so rude. (Thinking it had something to do with the recent health classes about germs-if only.) She then proceeded to tell us-sorry cringing again."I just didn't want any of her boogers." Apparently right before she brought our pizza, she had been...well there's only one way to say this-she picked her nose. And then proceeded to wipe it on her pant leg, to which Madison witnessed.

If I had just listened to my daughter that day I wouldn't cringe every time I smell tomatoes simmering. (Which with the garden in full swing is quite often right now.) Me, being horrified but wanting to get home and boil my tongue, called the restraunt when we got home. They apologized that time, and offered us coupons for a free meal-as if we could go back. I politely declined.

The last and final one is probably the easiest to recount. While rude, I couldn't really complain considering I wanted to say something. Martin while walking through Wal-Mart (they pay Honeybear, we then return the favor and pay them)was shocked by a teenager acting like an infant. This girl was walking back and forth screaming for an employee to come help. I mean literally screaming, and several of us were looking at her and shaking our heads. Martin looked her straight in the eyes and said "I'll help if you'll be quiet." She looked offended and he seemed to not be satisfied "Does your mom know your here?"

The look on her face-oh it was satisfying. I looked at him and said "Martin, you don't talk to adults like that." (She was probably 19-20)"Even if they are acting like brats." And turned and walked away. She called me a few choice words, but it's alright. By that time the managers had appeared and escorted her off the premises shortly thereafter.

All these moments are ones I look back on and think "Gee, I should have stopped them or listened to them." But then I look back a little longer and think "I must be doing something right."

attack of the boy eater

For the last couple of days our hatchlings have disappeared slowly. We have looked for signs of the culprit(all predators leave signs)to no avail sadly. We went from ten to four in the last week. After all the work to hatch them out I was getting quite irked.

Well the culprit gave himself away-Scout. You see our chicken pen and pig pen are connected, separated by welded wire paneling. The whole thing is wrapped in chicken wire, this keeps smaller chicks in since they can slip through most paneling. However they can get into the pig pen. Do you see where I'm headed here?

This morning as we were choring and picking ripe vegetables out of the garden. I went to supervise the kids changing out water dishes with the chickens, and was watching the little chicks running back and forth. Then all of a sudden Scout started squealing like crazy, along with a small chirping. Looking over I see one of the half grown chicks trying to get back in the chicken pen. Trying but not succeeding, seeing as how its bum was in Scout's mouth.

This would be one of those light bulb moments-mine lit up like three hundred watts. I holler at Honeybear what's happening, and then since I don't have shoes on reach over and smack Scout's bum. He releases the ruffled but unharmed chick, and looks up at me. This does not deter him and he goes back after the chick-only to run snout first into the paneling.

Now that the chick is for the moment out of harms way, we plan what should happen. We decide to corral them in their small yard that kept them from the big chickens, until they were excepted. (Chickens are pack animals with pecking orders, not the nicest to babies at all.)By the time this plan is decided the silly things have wandered back into the pig pen. (Hey they're picking between four adults picking on them or a pig eating them if he catches them.)

So Martin is told to go herd them back to their own side for the rest of us to pen up. (He was picked seeing as how he was the only one who had some form of shoe on.) Everything is fine at first, he scratched Scout's snout and passes by him to wrangle the chicks. Now I don't know what set him off-the fact Martin was taking his treats, or the fact Martin didn't take in a treat-but when Martin had shooed the last chick to the chicken pen Scout squealed and it began.

As Martin went to leave, Scout decided he was still hungry. He grabbed Martin's shorts and pulled. Martin laughingly pulled himself from the pig. But Scout wasn't done, he squealed and ran after Martin. Now what do you think Martin did? No your wrong. He didn't head out the gate-he ran in circles, laughing and taunting Scout. Seven year olds! Oy vay! Well Scout was gaining on Martin at one point, do you think he ran to the gate then? Your right he didn't. He climbed onto Scout's house. Laughing he taunted Scout, then looked at me and his sisters laughing hysterically, and did a jig to make us laugh harder. Did I mention that Scout was trying his hardest to climb up on the house to Martin. Well while Martin was jigging Scout accomplished this feat, which in turn made Martin fall off when he nudged him.

Laughing so hard I could barely see through the tears, I tell him to get his hiney out of there before he actually gets hurt. As the gate closed the short sighted omninivore ran smack dab into the gate. So now I think it might be a good idea to slop Scout from the outside.

Don't worry no pigs, chicks, or kids were harmed in the making of this blog.

demolition of tradition

No soap boxes-well not much anyways. Just some interesting observation on sitcoms and their affects on family life and the way kids look at parents. Now if I pick on one of your favorites-deal with it. Just kidding, my goal is never to offend-just to amuse. So here is my take on sitcoms.

According to Jim- The man is played true to life. There is no question that every man has a little Jim in them. The die hard football fan, burping, hard working man of the house. Even the jabs at the in-laws seem true to life. But come on what woman after having five kids looks like Cherrel? If she was true to life after the twins she would have been a good 40 lbs. heavier for at least a few months. Heck no those twins popped out and she was ready for the size 0 jeans again. And what about Andy? Would a man like Jim really put up with a sissy like that? Doubtful. And do we really compete as man and wife the way Jim and Cherrel do? Okay that's real to life.

What about King of Queens? What man in their right mind thinks having either one of your parents in your home is a good idea? And why would he marry such a witch? Okay she looks good, that lasts for the first three dates tops. No man wants his faults pointed out daily. Nor will they stick around for years to take the abuse from not only you but your father. Arthur on the other hand seems like the typical crazy in-law. Gotta love a sixty year old toddler.

Then there's Two and a Half Men. Can any thirteen year old boy be that dumb? Sure he's funny, but is it really that funny if that's what that generation is really coming to. And how many Charlies are there in this world? Maybe I'm just odd, but if a man old enough to be my dad hit on me...Well I'd just have a hard time keeping a straight face. Do we really wallow in our close family members misery? Okay there again when my brother slips on a banana peel I laugh first then push him down again. (Hey he is my older brother.)

Then there's my all time favorite-Everybody Loves Raymond. This show has everything. The obnoxious in-laws, the sibling rivalry, the true to life housewife, and the oblivious husband. The husband that is still the king of the castle-when is wife lets him. Why is it that on sitcoms men are dumber than a box of rocks. And the wife never hesitates to let him know it. I doubt I would still be married if I acted in this fashion to my hubby. But they do capture the everyday situations that everyone can relate to. They are just a little to citified for me. Why isn't there just a down home blue collar sitcom?

Now by now your wondering what is the deal today? Well it started out innocent enough. We were outside in the garden. When Honeybear said something along the lines about getting a new truck. When Martin looks up and goes "You didn't ask Mom. You know she runs the house." I look at Honeybear he looks at me and we start laughing. When it all came out after we talked to him, he got the idea from According to Jim. Apparently Jim bought something stupid and Cherrel and him argued the whole episode till Jim was proven wrong. And then had to say something stupid in front of everyone. To which the woman all danced around chanting and teasing him.

Now all you men out there know whose really in charge? Right, right? King of the castle, he who wears the pants in the family, man of the house. That's what the man is. Now all you woman standing behind them smiling-don't forget to lay out the pants for them to wear.

to the future and beyond

I suddenly feel very old. Honeybear took Martin to sign up for the Boyscouts. Which wasn't emotional. What caused me to feel old-something I try not to worry about-was my sweet child, Madison.

As we sat reading a bedtime story (Green Eggs & Ham) the remaining four of us heard a crash. As we look up Jewels, Madison's kitten, streaks across the living room like her tail is on fire. We get up and check for damage.

Madison's beta, Carly, is flipping around like grease on a griddle. I scoop him up and grab a bowl. throw some water in, and pray he swims not floats. Luckily no floaters yet. After this I turn to Madison and say, "She's a regular Garfield, huh?"

Madison squints up at me, scrunches her nose up, and goes "Who?" Apparently I have let some of the kids' education slide. When I explain it was a cartoon from when I was her age. Degan pipes up with "Oh, then it's really old, right?" Talk about ripping my carefully constructed wall of nonchalance down. Thanks son, thanks.

Now after some serious consideration of the kids' objectives for the school months ahead I decided that cartoons can't be fit into any category. Oh well, guess I'll just have to face facts, it has officially begun-my kids consider me old. You know this doesn't bother me as long as I can keep them still thinking I know something.

When they figure out Honeybear and I don't know everything we're in serious trouble. They do outnumber us, a coup could easily happen. Hopefully I can blind them with my awesomeness till they're all out of the house. (It's my blog I can use ridiculous words like that if I want.)

I fear this isn't possible, whenever Honeybear or I don't know the answer we deflect to the other. I've noticed this is happening more often-one of them is bound to notice soon. Well Mama you know if you don't hear from me for three days- come looking for the duct taped parents hidden in the closet. But use caution they can bite, and one does have a BB gun and the other an archery set.

busy time of the year

I apologize for my lax blogging once again. With internet that works, I am still posting sporadically. (Ha bet you didn't think a hillbilly knew a big word like that.)But as with everyone who has childern this is a very busy time of year. Not that they are getting ready for school (that would be my job.) But bear with my ramblings, I have so many irons in the fire so my mind wanders.

I have already told you the last time all the things we're preparing outside-but life in general has been busy around here. For one Madison has been very trying. Her beloved boxer,Princess passed from old age. We however chose not to tell our delicate child the truth and told her she ran away. She has been insistent that we stay outside and walk the property to make sure she can find her way home. (Yes Madison knows the facts of life, she is just way to sensitive to deal with this at a tender age.)

The other issue around here is Scout, the pig. He is now about 60 lbs give or take and has started pulling an escape act on a daily basis. So we have been trying to fix his pen so he can't escape-without success. Did I mention he lost his doggy devotion. Apparently his desire to be a free range ham trumps us giving him food and treats.

This of course is also reeking havoc on the garden-which is becoming quite the mess. There are so many tasty treats for a pig-which is why we humans like them too.
I don't mind sharing but if your going to eat a tomato don't take a bite and move to the next. Or wallow in the middle of the pumpkin patch. *rolls eyes*

Now the outside is in havoc-what about the inside you ask. *sigh* Just as bad I'm afraid. The kids are back in the full swing of school. We are studying the body systems, the wars (revolutionary, and civil), and the history around them, along with the basics. We spend hours everyday reading interesting facts, watching a pbs show on something, and visiting other homeschooling families to plan feild trips. This is the best time of the year for homeschoolers to take feild trips. There are all kinds of discounts at very interesting places, and even special homeschooling days.

None of this is the cause of the havoc inside exactly. Indirectly at best. The boys do play war often, while the girls pretend to be the people having a picnic and watching the battles. (To proper to actually join in the blood shed-most the time.)But the real havoc is from the body systems, we are building a human. Bwh haha! And the glue and paint and paper is constantly strung about. Trying to control a two year old in the middle of this is...interesting.

Some people think teaching the kids the digestive system was inappropriate at their ages. Because were do the funniest involuntary body functions come from? I say why not take the funny away from burping, farting, and vomiting. Teach them that everyone does it and no one can stop it and its no longer funny or embarrassing. Um...I was a tad bit wrong. Now they explain to everyone why they just did whatever they did. Which is more embarrassing to me then if they were uncouth heathens.

I know I have wandered from subject to subject today. But that seems to be the way things are working around here. I will try to keep you updated, just as soon as my mind wanders back to me. If you find it could you email it back please.