Factoad: noun. A fact applied in the completely wrong place. (Like when people call a toad a frog. Get it? No?)
Ah, my boys. The sponges. They absorb seemingly massive amounts of information. You know, when they want to. Lately they have been all about nature and animals.
I'll be honest, I don't remember which little monkey this statement came from, but I think it was Philosopher Child. Either way, it goes right up there with other epic statements.
"Did you know that you would stay warm in winter because you have a layer of fat?"
I explained that I'm not a bear, but deep down, well... ouch.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
More Statements of Epicness
Ah, construction vehicles. An endless source of fascination and entertainment for countless children. It's no wonder kids love them. They're big, they're loud, and they make things.
Little Viking wanted to explain one he saw but didn't quite have the vocabulary. "I saw a mint truck. It poured out oil."
"A mint truck that pours out oil?" I asked. At this point I was picturing some sort of candy truck that dispenses mint flavored oil. Well, that can't be right, I thought.
Philosopher Child patiently intervened. "He means he saw a cement truck."
"Oh," I said. That made more sense.
Little Viking wanted to explain one he saw but didn't quite have the vocabulary. "I saw a mint truck. It poured out oil."
"A mint truck that pours out oil?" I asked. At this point I was picturing some sort of candy truck that dispenses mint flavored oil. Well, that can't be right, I thought.
Philosopher Child patiently intervened. "He means he saw a cement truck."
"Oh," I said. That made more sense.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Meditation and Other Hazards
I've had tension headaches nearly daily for 10 or 15 years. Yep. As a teen, if I didn't take a Tylenol before leaving for school, whether I had a headache or not, by the time school let out I'd be at migraine levels. Have you ever had a migraine? They are.not.fun.
So in this manner, I was able to curb the headaches as much as possible. Eventually they nearly disappeared, but lately they are back with gusto. I have been taking ibuprofen 1-2 times a day, every day, for the pain. Doesn't sound healthy? It's not. It's actually a really bad idea. But, for the most part, it was a choice of dealing with ridiculous, blinding amounts of pain, or taking some ibuprofen.
Recently, as my headaches got more and more out of control, I turned to some specific stretches, using better posture, and meditating. Not the trying to attain enlightenment on some astrophysical plane sort of mediation, but just sitting quietly, eyes closed, and just breathing. And you know what? It helped. A lot. I went 3 days without having to take anything. That was huge for me. (I admit over the past 24-36 hours I've been really stressed and last night and this morning I had a lot of trouble just breathing the stress away. I took some ibuprofen as the pain got worse.)
This afternoon I put on an episode of Voltron on my computer for Viking Child to watch (Philosopher Child is at school), brewed some herbal tea, and was going to go and just sit and meditate as the next round of headaches was creeping up.
As soon as I was going to sit, Viking Toddler ran in, asking to watch something on the TV instead. I explained to him that I really needed him to go watch Voltron, for just a little while, and I would call him in a bit. He went back pretty easily. I was on my way to go sit, but the dog had to go out now. Fine. Take the dog out. Go back to sit. As I am, Viking Toddler runs in with another demand, and while my attention is focused on him, I back into a bucket that Husband had used to fix some plumbing yesterday. Ick all over the back of my pants that I had just put on. Go to change my pants. Go back to sit to find that Viking Toddler had gone behind my back and put something loud on TV. In a last bit of frustration, I simply shouted, "I GIVE UP!"
And then I came here to vent.
And now my tea is ready.
So in this manner, I was able to curb the headaches as much as possible. Eventually they nearly disappeared, but lately they are back with gusto. I have been taking ibuprofen 1-2 times a day, every day, for the pain. Doesn't sound healthy? It's not. It's actually a really bad idea. But, for the most part, it was a choice of dealing with ridiculous, blinding amounts of pain, or taking some ibuprofen.
Recently, as my headaches got more and more out of control, I turned to some specific stretches, using better posture, and meditating. Not the trying to attain enlightenment on some astrophysical plane sort of mediation, but just sitting quietly, eyes closed, and just breathing. And you know what? It helped. A lot. I went 3 days without having to take anything. That was huge for me. (I admit over the past 24-36 hours I've been really stressed and last night and this morning I had a lot of trouble just breathing the stress away. I took some ibuprofen as the pain got worse.)
This afternoon I put on an episode of Voltron on my computer for Viking Child to watch (Philosopher Child is at school), brewed some herbal tea, and was going to go and just sit and meditate as the next round of headaches was creeping up.
As soon as I was going to sit, Viking Toddler ran in, asking to watch something on the TV instead. I explained to him that I really needed him to go watch Voltron, for just a little while, and I would call him in a bit. He went back pretty easily. I was on my way to go sit, but the dog had to go out now. Fine. Take the dog out. Go back to sit. As I am, Viking Toddler runs in with another demand, and while my attention is focused on him, I back into a bucket that Husband had used to fix some plumbing yesterday. Ick all over the back of my pants that I had just put on. Go to change my pants. Go back to sit to find that Viking Toddler had gone behind my back and put something loud on TV. In a last bit of frustration, I simply shouted, "I GIVE UP!"
And then I came here to vent.
And now my tea is ready.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Traaaaansformers!
Robots in disguise!
If you are around my age, you probably now have the theme running through your head. If not, sorry. But anyway, I think we are all at least aware of Transforms now, yes? If not, go visit wikipedia for a minute. It's not important that you know much about them, only that they are giant battling robots that can transform into objects like vehicles and such. OK, you don't have to visit wikipedia. I just told you what they are.
Anyway, we've had crazy weather here over the past few days. Powerlines are down all over the place. Trees are down, there are branches everywhere, and we were a little shocked to see the sun.
During all this nonsense, there was suddenly a very, very loud BOOM!
"What was that?" I asked Husband.
"Sounds like a transformer," he replied. Of course he meant transformer as in electrical equipment, not the giant robots.
"Transformer?" said Little Viking.
Do you see where this is going?
"A Transformer battling?" he asked in that adorable little voice.
"No, not that kind of transformer, honey," I said. "A different kind."
"Oh," he said. "So it was like Iron Man?"
What's really sad is after being immersed in all this boyness, I know exactly why his mind jumped to Iron Man when I said a different kind of transformer. *Sigh*
If you are around my age, you probably now have the theme running through your head. If not, sorry. But anyway, I think we are all at least aware of Transforms now, yes? If not, go visit wikipedia for a minute. It's not important that you know much about them, only that they are giant battling robots that can transform into objects like vehicles and such. OK, you don't have to visit wikipedia. I just told you what they are.
Anyway, we've had crazy weather here over the past few days. Powerlines are down all over the place. Trees are down, there are branches everywhere, and we were a little shocked to see the sun.
During all this nonsense, there was suddenly a very, very loud BOOM!
"What was that?" I asked Husband.
"Sounds like a transformer," he replied. Of course he meant transformer as in electrical equipment, not the giant robots.
"Transformer?" said Little Viking.
Do you see where this is going?
"A Transformer battling?" he asked in that adorable little voice.
"No, not that kind of transformer, honey," I said. "A different kind."
"Oh," he said. "So it was like Iron Man?"
What's really sad is after being immersed in all this boyness, I know exactly why his mind jumped to Iron Man when I said a different kind of transformer. *Sigh*
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Celebrity Context
Celebrity Context: noun. The knowledge that celebrities are, in fact, human.
I was reading an article in an online newspaper, minding my own business, when I happened to notice the sidebar. You know, where they keep all the bits about other articles they think you should read? Anyway, as I looked, the sidebar was full of celebrity nonsense that I don't understand why anyone would be interested in. And really, when you put it in a different context, the "news" is downright dull. I mean, the kind of dull that if a friend told you the same story about themselves, your mind would wander. If a stranger told you, you'd think they were narcissistic.
Let me give you an example. Let's say your next door neighbor went to the beach. Is that interesting? No, not really. Let's say that neighbor took his or her kids to the beach. Is that interesting? Nope. Unless, of course, you have some sort of hand in raising their kids, I guess. But, if that is not interesting then why on earth would someone care if a movie star went to the beach?
So, say a married friend of a friend of a friend is pregnant. Interesting? Not really. Maybe in a good-for-them kind of way, perhaps. What if said person was having pregnancy cravings. Would you seriously care to ask what kind of cravings if you've never even met the person? No? Then why do we care what kind of cravings a celebrity has?
This the part where many of you may stop and say, "But this has nothing to do with child-rearing. You have left what the core of the Mom-tionary." And this is where I say, "Nope, I'm getting there. Pay attention."
I don't want my kids falling over themselves at the sight of some star. I don't want them thinking that they are somehow under them because a celebrity's name is known farther. If there is some person in the limelight that has done something truly noble and they want to respect that person, that's OK with me. But really. I think enough is enough. That is why I will be teaching my kids that a movie star is nothing more than someone who is good at their job, their job being an actor.
I was reading an article in an online newspaper, minding my own business, when I happened to notice the sidebar. You know, where they keep all the bits about other articles they think you should read? Anyway, as I looked, the sidebar was full of celebrity nonsense that I don't understand why anyone would be interested in. And really, when you put it in a different context, the "news" is downright dull. I mean, the kind of dull that if a friend told you the same story about themselves, your mind would wander. If a stranger told you, you'd think they were narcissistic.
Let me give you an example. Let's say your next door neighbor went to the beach. Is that interesting? No, not really. Let's say that neighbor took his or her kids to the beach. Is that interesting? Nope. Unless, of course, you have some sort of hand in raising their kids, I guess. But, if that is not interesting then why on earth would someone care if a movie star went to the beach?
So, say a married friend of a friend of a friend is pregnant. Interesting? Not really. Maybe in a good-for-them kind of way, perhaps. What if said person was having pregnancy cravings. Would you seriously care to ask what kind of cravings if you've never even met the person? No? Then why do we care what kind of cravings a celebrity has?
This the part where many of you may stop and say, "But this has nothing to do with child-rearing. You have left what the core of the Mom-tionary." And this is where I say, "Nope, I'm getting there. Pay attention."
I don't want my kids falling over themselves at the sight of some star. I don't want them thinking that they are somehow under them because a celebrity's name is known farther. If there is some person in the limelight that has done something truly noble and they want to respect that person, that's OK with me. But really. I think enough is enough. That is why I will be teaching my kids that a movie star is nothing more than someone who is good at their job, their job being an actor.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
It's happened
It's finally happened. I've started to say it. The dreaded, "When I was your age..."
I used it today. And not in a very nice way. I just wanted the kids to *help* pick up the mess they made. That's all. Just *help*. But they wouldn't. And then it happened. In my angry mom voice, I said, "When I was Little Viking's age, I had to clean my entire room by myself! By the time I was eleven, my mom made us clean the whole house every day, including moving furniture, and our house had three stories! SOMEONE TELL ME WHY ASKING YOU TO PICK UP A FEW BLOCKS IS A BIG DEAL?????"
And honestly, I don't feel great about my mom tantrum. It was not the most mature thing I've ever done. And, in case you are wondering if all the things I said to my kids about my childhood are true, then yes, they are. Mostly. I might have exaggerated some of it a little bit. We only cleaned the main level of the house, plus the couple of flights of stairs. But we did have to move the furniture.
I used it today. And not in a very nice way. I just wanted the kids to *help* pick up the mess they made. That's all. Just *help*. But they wouldn't. And then it happened. In my angry mom voice, I said, "When I was Little Viking's age, I had to clean my entire room by myself! By the time I was eleven, my mom made us clean the whole house every day, including moving furniture, and our house had three stories! SOMEONE TELL ME WHY ASKING YOU TO PICK UP A FEW BLOCKS IS A BIG DEAL?????"
And honestly, I don't feel great about my mom tantrum. It was not the most mature thing I've ever done. And, in case you are wondering if all the things I said to my kids about my childhood are true, then yes, they are. Mostly. I might have exaggerated some of it a little bit. We only cleaned the main level of the house, plus the couple of flights of stairs. But we did have to move the furniture.
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