tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53759789858297413462012-02-08T17:52:38.396-07:00In which academia and motherhood are juggled. Barely.Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.comBlogger1671100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-86973938344781130072012-02-04T12:08:00.002-07:002012-02-04T16:26:34.966-07:00

Lots going on Chez Ink and I've become too overwhelmed these days to write--and, more importantly, to keep up with the blogosphere.  After long consideration, I've decided to close down this (admittedly stop/start, often relocated but now at last it's final) blog.  Thanks for hanging with me for so long. If we've already connected on Facebook, I'll see you over there.  If we haven't, then please

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-80634964213013147572012-01-19T11:18:00.009-07:002012-01-21T16:51:51.915-07:00

What do you do when you are told that the textbook for the course "costs too much"? Here's what I did:  1. Apologized that it was expensive. 2. Explained that this is the only existing anthology on the particular subject and that it would have cost more for them buy the texts individually. 3. Suggested that all the texts could probably be obtained via library but it would require some

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-9369265168951342132012-01-16T10:52:00.017-07:002012-01-17T07:41:59.631-07:00

I don't have a great deal to add to the wonderful reviews of FeMOMhist, Good (Enough) Woman, and Stacey, but I would like to commend them for their insightful takes on Death Comes to Pemberley, the first book read by our new Virtual Book Club.  Definitely agree with the points made in recent discussion with VBC colleagues--primarily that (1) James's Elizabeth seems far too tame to be, well, the

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-8031251139937680012012-01-13T11:15:00.001-07:002012-01-13T11:16:22.661-07:00

The inability to do something despite writing it in your to-do list every day for an entire month. The realization that you just performed an action in a manner exactly like your mother/father used to do. The listing of everyone in your family--including the dog--before landing on the name of the person to whom you are actually speaking. The curious time span between the opening chords of a

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-20743796544207980092012-01-08T14:46:00.009-07:002012-01-09T14:04:51.068-07:00

"Brrr. It's flaming cold out there." "On the first day of Christmas, my boo love gave to me...four french toasts...and a bear in a tree." "Hey [pointing to bowl of nuts], can I have some of those spitashios?" "That's so big...it's ginormalous!"

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-78348598196442357372012-01-06T18:58:00.015-07:002012-01-06T21:02:57.274-07:00

Saw this in a store and was compelled to take a picture to bring to the blogosphere for discussion.  At first, I thought, hey, a cape kit!  Then I noticed the "Just add fabric!" part.  Wait, what?  Isn't a cape pretty much...um...fabric?  According to the "see side panels for kit contents" instruction on the bag, this is a self-identified "kit."  But the term "kit" typically implies that all

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-29670934761261092972012-01-04T11:16:00.025-07:002012-01-04T15:08:39.241-07:00

(Although I very much enjoyed reading everyone else's reflections, I couldn't even muster up the energy to think about 2011, so I am just heading feebly and without insight into 2012. But happy new year to all of you!) Soon after Ikea opened in our town, I thought it would be fun to take the kids and check it out. What I didn't know was that the store is set up so that you are shuttled through

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-27964541484653309272011-12-29T12:32:00.002-07:002011-12-29T12:33:11.055-07:00

Youngest: Can we do this now? Husband: We can do it later. Youngest: We can do it later? Husband: Yes, later. Youngest: How much longer is later? Husband: Later means in a little while. Youngest: Yay! Dad said we can do it later. Eldest: Later is a long time. Youngest: No, later means in a few minutes. Eldest: No, later means tonight, right, Mom? Me: Well, it depends on who said it. Youngest: Oh

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-81977352013743735412011-12-27T12:19:00.006-07:002011-12-29T12:04:59.246-07:00

Fighting the post-Christmas blahs...Because the anticipation and excitement is over.Because we're all exhausted.Because we've had more sugar than normal.Because those things lead to tearyness.Because the new semester approacheth.Because one of the classes has unfamiliar stuff.Because that makes me nervous.So, to counter, we will...Look at fabulous light displays.Make fantastical things out of

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-18855864394781649132011-12-23T20:08:00.006-07:002011-12-29T12:04:59.271-07:00

Youngest: Santa has, like, infinity elves. ***Eldest: I'll probably hear Rudolph's hooves on the roof.  Like I did last year.***Youngest (listening to classical music): Those are angels singing, right?***Happy Holidays, everyone!

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-1515272363524689422011-12-18T03:01:00.002-07:002011-12-29T12:04:59.297-07:00

On the first day of Christmas, my dear kids gave to me: a surprise list of crap required for their many school events.Shoppers roasting in the check-out lines...Hark, those Christmas shows are way too loud...Silent night (would be a delight)...O little town of sugar-high-mayhem...We two parents disoriented are...It's beginning to look a lot like we aren't going to get a Christmas card out this

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-18206901593631676382011-12-15T08:22:00.005-07:002011-12-29T12:04:59.331-07:00

To procrastinate on grading celebrate the holiday spirit, let's play a game. When my sister and I were young, we used to spend hours recaptioning Archie comics for our own amusement. It occurred to me that we could play a version of that here with vintage ads (since, you know, that's a thing now). So here is the first official post in the Fun With Captions category. Your mission, should you

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-12633742091570515822011-12-14T09:49:00.002-07:002011-12-29T12:04:59.362-07:00

Youngest: Can I eat this chocolate?Me: For dessert, you can.Youngest: But why?Me: Because it's candy.Youngest: Chocolate is not candy!Me: Kiddo, chocolate is the candiest of all the candies.Youngest: No, it's not.  It's a vegetable.***Eldest: I read the whole book in five minutes.Me: Really?  Did you enjoy it?Eldest: Well, I know what happens.Me: But part of the joy of reading a book is noticing

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-53354528152935197722011-12-09T19:00:00.004-07:002011-12-29T12:04:59.394-07:00

Excited about The Dame's writing group....[*poof* goes all that stuff in the middle]Over at the amazing Hyperbole and a Half, there's the BEST post/description re: living with depression, and this frame perfectly encapsulates what it's like while I'm writing.But I'm going to go ALL OUT.  Yep.  Finish, revise, submit.  Take my best shot.  No regrets.  Yeah.  Fork Grabbers unite!  ;)

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-60193455478561557432011-12-07T09:23:00.007-07:002011-12-29T12:04:59.426-07:00

Thanks, Youngest--I needed a holiday paradox...not to mention a new hairdo/hat combo.

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-69304933593538190022011-12-06T10:43:00.007-07:002011-12-29T12:04:59.461-07:00

Have come to realize something over the past few months: if I don't start blogging again, my head will explode.Also, really have missed Talking Chee.So...tiptoeing back into the blogosphere.  *waves*

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-33767673273475437722011-09-10T10:54:00.006-06:002011-12-29T12:04:59.532-07:00

Methinks Youngest may be a writer, too.

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-19454365269762337902011-09-08T22:21:00.009-06:002011-12-29T12:04:59.565-07:00

[crossposted at Scientopia]Since the stores are already decking themselves in Halloween finery, it seems appropriate to indulge in a little monster talk. More appropriately for this venue: monster-versus-scientist talk. By way of gothic literature.Gothic lit emerges in the late 18th century, morphs eventually into what is often labelled horror, then splinters into many subgenres. Conventions,

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-12089795095688017272011-09-01T12:57:00.008-06:002011-12-29T12:04:59.603-07:00

[crossposted at Scientopia guest blog, where I'm...um...guest blogging]It's that time of year again, when professors around the world discover that their classroom assignments have been changed at the last minute. To be honest, nothing throws me off my game more than racing across campus to the class location, only to encounter a sign informing us that we're actually supposed to be somewhere

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-49643405024250882632011-08-06T13:17:00.008-06:002011-12-29T12:04:59.634-07:00

Youngest: But Mom, I don't want to take that slice of cheese because then a mouse will climb up on the table and get it!Me: No, honey, a mouse will not climb up and get it.  Eldest: But if the mouse does eat the cheese, it's a mouse-full.  [points to mouth] Get it?  Youngest: No.  Eldest: Ok, it's a mouthful of cheese but since it's a mouse eating, it's a full mouse.  Get it?Youngest: No.Eldest:

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-13974434306304286702011-08-02T11:56:00.022-06:002011-12-29T12:04:59.666-07:00

Time for another list of things meant to do over summer break but not actually accomplished.Move to new house.Read everything on fall syllabi ahead of time.Finish novel.Cook in manner of gifted chef. However, can check off the following.Refinanced current house loan.Read some things on fall syllabi ahead of time.Got halfway through novel.Cooked a few things in quasi-organized fashion.Since I was

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-65768027614662197142011-07-19T16:18:00.014-06:002011-12-29T12:04:59.694-07:00

What are you reading right now?  (I always want to know.)I'm finishing up Dead Reckoning by Charlaine Harris and have thoroughly enjoyed it.  I've read the entire series over the past year, and I just heard that the 13th book will be her last Sookie Stackhouse book.  Sadness ensues.  Moment of silence, please.True Blood, which is of course based on the series, has not followed the books exactly,

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-17945778857130184112011-07-18T02:42:00.007-06:002011-12-29T12:04:59.722-07:00

Apparently, today is "Happy Tiny Cowboy Day!"Youngest advises that the proper way to celebrate Happy Tiny Cowboy Day is to ride your Big Wheel as fast as possible down the sidewalk. Then, upon reaching your destination, put your fist in the air and yell, "Cowboy up! Yeah!" This is followed by a hearty high five to everyone around you, throwing in a few "pew pew" sounds for effect.Eldest chimes

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-40630323800389274942011-07-15T14:09:00.008-06:002011-12-29T12:04:59.753-07:00

Pedicures: good for your feet or gateway addiction? The title of my work in progress. Whether or not I like Flipping Out (the show, not the action). Frozen yogurt: healthy alternative or devil in disguise? Whether I should blog about writing or working or parenting.  And, sometimes, where I should blog.  And, occasionally, if I should blog. My ability/desire to give up Diet Dr. Pepper.

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-26858154539383643222011-07-07T19:04:00.010-06:002011-12-29T12:04:59.781-07:00

This ninth chapter does not want to be written.  It's not that I don't know what's going to happen during the chapter--I do.  However, when I sit down to write it, I end up doing something else.  Every time.  It's like there is an invisible force field around the draft that blocks me.  I will be poised over the keyboard when I'm suddenly gripped by the certainty that I absolutely must check email

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-6599913114998982302011-06-18T14:03:00.013-06:002011-12-29T12:04:59.809-07:00

[Just found this from a few years ago and don't think I ever posted it.  Still boggled by the minds of manufacturers, though, especially now that Eldest is in the Great Divide between boys' size 6/8 and size 10/12.  What happened to 9?  Harrumph.]Husband: But it says 2T and Youngest is two and a half, so why do I have to buy a 4T?Me: Because the manufacturers, for some reason unbeknownst to

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-79202920292817100432011-06-16T22:18:00.015-06:002011-12-29T12:04:59.834-07:00

Things we did not anticipate saying when we became parents:"You hit the drum, not your brother." "You have to take off your Batman Utility Belt before you get into the bathtub.""Boys don't usually wear wear toenail polish.  Yes, I know that's not fair. Because that's how it is.  Honestly?  Because the codes of our society dictate that cosmetics are a signifier of 'femininity,' not 'masculinity.'

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-3203597616799127572011-06-13T23:14:00.015-06:002011-12-29T12:04:59.864-07:00

[As we are walking toward a clothing store.]  Youngest: It would be awesome if there was some magical dudes here.

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-5178409584347118082011-06-12T12:39:00.014-06:002011-12-29T12:04:59.892-07:00

I’m in the middle of a writing project and have been completely faithful to it. Wrote every day, no matter what. Then we had a visitor, which was lovely but I took a few days off from the novel. Will be able to get back to work tomorrow and am not…um…feeling it. Before, that fictional world was sort of hovering around and taking shape just beyond my “real world” experiences so that even when

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-13096874620740988412011-05-27T19:41:00.022-06:002011-12-29T12:04:59.918-07:00

Dear People Who Designed The Stadium:  Perhaps you could allow smart phones to function within your walls, to be kinder to those of us who didn't really want to go to the game in the first place but were humoring the rest of the family so brought smart phones to pass the time with joyful interwebbing, only to discover that our smart phones didn't work and we were actually going to have to watch

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-58341995140723726712011-05-16T21:00:00.018-06:002011-12-29T12:04:59.945-07:00

Assignment: teach Paul Auster’s City of Glass and Tom Stoppard’s The Real Inspector Hound during the same week.Result: conversations like the following.Me: What are the conventions of the mystery genre?Class:Me: Ok, let’s back up. What mysteries have you read?Class:At first, I was surprised, but then I started wondering if perhaps NOT reading mysteries was the norm rather than the exception.

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-59147990696132289582011-05-15T15:11:00.025-06:002011-12-29T12:04:59.986-07:00

Dear Tech Guy: Thank you for removing that virus from my laptop. It would have been nice if you hadn't removed all the programs, too, so that we had to do a whole different appointment the next day for the reinstalling. And it also would be nice if you would let me use my own antivirus system, so that we wouldn't have conversations like this:Me: What happened to the antivirus system? Why didn't

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-13536388606848728002011-05-13T19:04:00.015-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.019-07:00

Youngest: Dad showed us the storms.Eldest: Storm drains.Youngest: They are down low.Eldest: Yes, so the water can drain.Youngest: Besides, that's where the pandas live.***Eldest: You know that new bat we got for baseball?Me: Yes.Eldest: The one made out of alum...alumli...alumlinum?Me: Aluminum? Yes.Eldest: I can hit really far with it because of the alumliness.***Me: I love you.Youngest: Yes,

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-46385162794986989082011-05-08T09:20:00.039-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.048-07:00

Hope you're all having a great day.  I am going to call my Mom and tell her how wonderful she is.  Because I tried to think up a way to acknowledge that here but I would have to write for 5,000 days to even begin to express my gratitude and admiration.In the meantime, here is a quote roundup (mostly Youngest--not to ignore Eldest, it's just that the younger kiddo, being a more recent user of

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-41878059866516662012011-05-03T22:50:00.017-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.074-07:00

What are your top five "must-reads" mysteries (short stories or novels)? I'm trying to whittle down the potential texts for a new course on the mystery genre, and I'm finding it to be rather daunting indeed!Or who are your favorite mystery authors?  That would be helpful, too.Or if you don't really seek out mysteries for your leisure reading, were you ever invited to read one at school?  I'm

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-74232061724873607002011-04-30T15:45:00.039-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.102-07:00

[In honor of National Poetry Month, which ends today.]Poetry appears to be one of those things that can strike fear into the hearts of the most intrepid readers, and it's not surprising. Many of us have been in classrooms where we scratch our heads over a poem, only to have the authority figure pull some kind of magical rabbit out of a hat ("This poem isn't about a typewriter at all! It's

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-81491816338657888332011-04-27T19:11:00.013-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.127-07:00

Eldest: Remember when I broke my arm?Youngest: And remember when you had a happy-all-better ending?Eldest: What is 12 plus 12?Youngest: And what is friends plus friends?Eldest: I just checked the score. It's 2 to 1. And Montreal's winning.Youngest: I just checked the score, too. It's S to T. And three is winning.

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-84223011086172282002011-04-20T21:13:00.017-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.155-07:00

Youngest: When I wear my glasses, I can see everything better because of the sunshine.Eldest: No, it's because the glasses make you see better.Youngest: No, when the sunshine comes in, I can.  The glasses make the sunshine come in.Eldest: What if the sun isn't out?Youngest:  Then I don't wear my glasses.  Because I like the rain.***Youngest (knees bent at backwards right angles): Can you do this?

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-88750679368136427542011-04-14T11:34:00.011-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.182-07:00

that I can walk into a college classroom on any given day and strategically facilitate a discussion of theoretically and philosophically complex material...but I can't get my son to eat his vegetables?

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-60834066612495473932011-03-31T13:21:00.016-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.207-07:00

"5. Cixous, Helene: 'The Laugh of the Medusa.' Duh. Look up the page reference yourself: you should know this text...by now." -- Laura Mullen, "48 1/2."

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-4610200206185847552011-02-16T17:24:00.017-07:002011-12-29T12:05:00.233-07:00

While reviewing responses to Poe's "The Cask of Amontillado," I came across one discussing instead "The Flask of Armadillo."Now I can't stop wondering: would that be armadillo juice, do you think? Or whole armadillo? And if the latter, how many might fit into one flask? Were the armadillo native to Italy? Or just visiting for Carnival? So. Many. Questions.

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-13691780663117665502011-01-25T11:41:00.037-07:002012-01-06T21:01:47.568-07:00

Dear Just-Started-Teaching Self: Type all of your notes for class into the computer.  I know you think it's too much trouble but trust me, you'll be using them for a long time, and it's much easier to annotate something in a file than to try and squinch little additions into the margins of that old paper.  If you can even find that old paper.  Indicate the chapter of the novel (or a paragraph

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-26878920871837357812011-01-11T10:05:00.024-07:002011-12-29T12:05:00.291-07:00

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-89163392705460301612010-12-14T08:44:00.014-07:002011-12-29T12:05:00.332-07:00

A VISIT FROM ST. ACADEME (apologies to Clement Clarke Moore)‘Twas the week of finals, when all through the college,Not a creature was stirring, except those with knowledgeof multiple projects that had to be graded(percentages added, bubble sheets shaded).A deadline memo nestled snug in my box:we were all engaged in the race against clocks.So I with my bookbag, overflowing with paper,had just

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-9302068476313277732010-12-12T13:44:00.031-07:002011-12-29T12:05:00.361-07:00

*in line at Santa's Village this morning*Me: What's everyone going to wish for?Eldest: I am going to wish for Parcheesi.Me: That's awesome!  How about you, Youngest?Youngest: I don't know.Me: Ok, but this is your chance to talk to Santa, so you might want to think of something.Youngest: I am going to wish for something.  But I don't know what.Eldest: How about a unicorn?Youngest: Nah.Eldest: How

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-21520966631480353162010-12-02T09:42:00.015-07:002011-12-29T12:05:00.396-07:00

Conversation OneEldest: Mom, what does Christmas mean?Me: What does it mean?  Well, it means different things to...wait, you mean the word?Eldest: Yes.Me: Well, remember the manger with the baby Jesus?  Christmas is the celebration of his birthday.Eldest: Then why isn't it called Jesusmas?Me: Well, "Christ" is his last name.  And "mas" is...Eldest: Math?  There's math?  I love math!Me: Oh,

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-45394210260518594582010-11-29T23:59:00.028-07:002011-12-29T12:05:00.427-07:00

Dear Retail Stores: Thank you for the sales. But maybe you could just start with lower prices to begin with? I don't really understand why, since the economy is so bad, everything costs three times as much as it used to. Also, why are there three crazy days of sales celebrated with mad fervor that are expected to "boost" the economy? Why not just do better prices all year round as a "booster"?

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-42286074929173692212010-11-17T08:05:00.021-07:002011-12-29T12:05:00.456-07:00

Thank you, Mr. Shakespeare, for the sonnet from which we will now be repurposing a line.That time of term thou mayst in me behold...Slightly glazed look when someone (a) hands me a stack of book orders which must be turned in yesterday, never mind that we just found out what classes we'll be teaching next term and haven't had one second to actually THINK about what texts we'd like to use or (b) 

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-22814545290077843122010-11-07T16:58:00.017-07:002011-12-29T12:05:00.482-07:00

Youngest: How much longer until I grow big enough?Youngest: What does house + pumpkin mean?Eldest: How much cents does Bob have? I need to write an answer for my homework. And no, I don't know who Bob is, either.Eldest: Did God invent cheese?

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-88684005839979347272010-10-25T09:32:00.012-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.512-07:00

Eldest: Mom, do we come back?Me: From where?Eldest: Heaven.  Me: I don't know, sweetie.Eldest: Why don't you look it up online?

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-70438438478386498362010-10-16T09:26:00.013-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.542-07:00

In response to Nap's challenge...1. What is your favorite word?  fantastique2. What is your least favorite word?  hegemony3. What turns you on?  loud music of my own choosing, humor4. What turns you off?  lies, liars5. What is your favorite curse word?  dammit!6. What sound or noise do you love?  my sons giggling, waves crashing7. What sound or noise do you hate? static, other people's loud

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-48981638704086609702010-10-14T13:24:00.015-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.571-07:00

Me: So Youngest, did I hear that a dentist came to talk to your class yesterday?Youngest: Yes.Me: What did he or she talk about?Youngest: Catnips.Me: Catnips?Eldest: Catnips?Youngest:  Wait.  It was...cabinets.Eldest:  Ha ha ha!  Mom, he means cavities!Youngest: Nooooo!  It was cabinets!Eldest: Cavities!Youngest: Cabinets!Me: Ok.  And what was in the bag that the dentist gave you?Youngest: A

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-73098842098076764012010-09-25T21:43:00.012-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.601-07:00

Hamlet, today, might ask himself the following: "To LOL or not to LOL...that is the question."  What think you, fairest friends, on the subject of said abbreviation? Is it appalling to employ textcabulary instead of actual words, or is it snobbery to say that we shan't stoop to such a friendly little shorthand?

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-3445834994065507232010-09-18T10:37:00.025-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.629-07:00

My Mom had an enormous surgery, in which they removed the apparatus from the spinal fusion she had back in 1991 and put in a whole new vertabrae support system.  So. Very.  Scary.  But she is now finally out of ICU and will spend a few weeks doing rehab.  (If you have a minute to send some healing vibes or prayers her way, I would be very grateful.)  Still worried but things are looking up!The

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-76082633829897907322010-09-07T21:53:00.020-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.658-07:00

Order item, which you need by Friday.Check online tracking service on Wednesday and see that it has already arrived in your city.Receive nothing on Wednesday.  Receive nothing on Thursday.Email customer service at store: explain that the item was in your city on Wednesday and was supposed to be delivered on Thursday but now it's Friday and you haven't heard anything.Receive no return customer

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-27679623938212465272010-09-01T00:01:00.015-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.698-07:00

The second and final part in our interview series.1. What is something mom always says to you? "Be nice to people."2. What makes mom happy? "Love."3. What makes mom sad? "Hitting her."4. How does your mom make you laugh? "By telling me something funny."5. What was your mom like as a child? "She liked toys.  But she didn't have any trucks.  Awwww."6. How old is mom? "Nine."7. How tall is your mom?

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-1266774068381882352010-08-31T11:05:00.020-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.727-07:00

I found this old meme in my Facebook "notes" section -- had totally forgetten about it and am posting here for safekeeping.  This is from 3.15.09, when Eldest was 5.  (Note to self: must ask Youngest for his version next!)  -----------------------------------Instructions: Copy this note, ask your kid the questions and write them down exactly how they respond. 1. What is something mom always says

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-15951206474380692052010-08-13T11:21:00.018-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.755-07:00

Why I am working up to the last possible minute to calculate final grades every term.Why the bank, when we applied for a loan to combine two loans, kept our several-hundred-dollar application money even though they knew from the beginning that we wouldn't qualify for the loan we wanted.Why the same bank tried to offer us a crap replacement loan that would cost us $5,000 upfront and then acted all

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-88188979981170611472010-08-03T23:49:00.014-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.786-07:00

Me: Does anyone want more corn on the cob?Eldest: Me!Husband: Me!Youngest: Me!Me: Ok.  But do you really want some, Youngest?  You don't like it.Youngest: Yes, I do.Me: Are you sure?  This [pointing to the cob] is corn.Youngest: Yes! I like that!  I eat it a lot.Me: You do?  I've never seen you eat it.Youngest: I eat it at school.  And I like it.Me: Oh, I thought you said you didn't like

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-52083666648280117062010-08-02T17:12:00.016-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.819-07:00

School-supply list time, that is.I just spent an hour zooming around Target, trying to (a) read the list with one hand and steer the cart with the other, (b) find the cheapest item that would fulfill the obligation, (c) stay out of the way of other irate shoppers who appeared to be as irked by the whole process as I was, (d) keep my children in some kind of close proximity, (e) explain to

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-80736054393450807952010-07-26T11:23:00.015-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.847-07:00

Repurposing Herman Melville's "Bartleby the Scrivener" -- I would prefer not to answer queries about what books we will be using next term since I'm still working on this one, thank you very much.  Anyone else "preferring not to" these days?

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-3661371210471102982010-07-18T20:14:00.016-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.877-07:00

1.Youngest: You have to call me Star Star.Grandfather: So your name is Star Star?Youngest: Yes.Grandfather: What's your mother's name?Youngest: Star Star.Grandfather: What's your father's name?Youngest: Star Star.Grandfather: You can't call everyone Star Star!Youngest: Yes, I do.Grandfather: Can I be a Star Star, too?Youngest: No.Grandfather: Ok, then I'm going to be Moon Moon.Youngest:  Now I'm

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-47224491713438534842010-07-10T12:11:00.009-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.906-07:00

Youngest: Do you like my dress [points to t-shirt, around which he has wrapped a Wii Nunchuck like a belt]?Me: Yes, I do.Youngest: Can we be fancy in this house?Me: Sure.Youngest: Good. Because I got my crackers on.Me: Your what?Youngest: My crackers.  And now I need a drink called milk.

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-29737855960371828522010-07-06T23:43:00.017-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.935-07:00

You know how sometimes you see a person and it looks just like someone else you know?   And for a minute, you wonder if it is them?  And when you realize it isn't, it still kind of weirds you out because it's so eerie?  Do you know what is a thousand times eerier?  Did you ever see someone and it looks just like you?  And, for a split second, you actually have to figure out whether it's you over

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-83384024279521510502010-07-04T12:10:00.022-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.964-07:00

Youngest [after a particularly loud truck with a driver who apparently didn't know how to release the horn drove by]: Wow!  That was a honker!Me: Llamas! Look!  Everybody, look: there are llamas!  Wearing bandanas!Family members all dutifully look and make noncommital sounds.Me: I don't think there were llamas last year, were there? Wow. This is way better than last year.Husband: Because of the

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-9276998349769787252010-06-29T12:45:00.015-06:002011-12-29T12:05:00.993-07:00

When the tiny pool in our backyard sprung a leak the first day we had it, Husband fixed it with duct tape.When he took the kids fishing, and there were no fish to be seen, Husband turned it into a casting contest, which was much more fun, anyway.When Eldest walked into our room at 7 am, crying: "There's a scary bug in my room!" Husband said, "Eldest, I am the biggest, baddest, bug-getter in all

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-3180154892536879682010-06-23T22:24:00.028-06:002011-12-29T12:05:01.030-07:00

Confession: I'm obsessed with academic fiction. Have been ever since the first year of grad school, when I realized that there were books written about the environment in which I hoped to immerse myself for a lifetime. Must admit that it's my first choice of leisure reading material, and I've often thought about how I might shape a course in the subject. Thus, when I began reading Elaine

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-12510219922350129202010-06-09T16:44:00.014-06:002011-12-29T12:05:01.061-07:00

Youngest: "I am so happy to be on bacation. Look at all the clips [cliffs]!"Eldest: "That cloud looks like a dragon with a party hat on!"Youngest [splashing around]: "Look! I am doing the doggie piddle. Woof woof!"Eldest: "Ow!  Just got myself with the fish hook! Not going to stop fishing, though, in case anyone is wondering."Youngest [holding up a twig]: "I think I broke a tree."

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-61788345052322825832010-06-04T10:42:00.034-06:002011-12-29T12:05:01.091-07:00

I finally figured out why I can't find the bathing suit I want: the last time it was produced was the 1920s.  You know, those lovely long cover-y things?  I've always had an issue with bathing suits: namely, that men's are like shorts but women's are like undergarments.  And yes, certainly there are people who love to walk around with tiny scraps of fabric or flossy thongs, but not all of us

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-3521405356457208932010-06-02T23:49:00.012-06:002011-12-29T12:05:01.119-07:00

Twice in the last two weeks, this has happened: I am waiting in the right lane to go straight at a light.  The driver behind me zooms around the left side, crosses in front of my car, and turns right.  Are we doing this now?  Because I am so not down with that.

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-45153633373277725912010-05-28T10:30:00.031-06:002011-12-29T12:05:01.145-07:00

[From Ye Olde Letters Cache recently rediscovered.]I adore my topic.  Really, two years of reading and writing on it has been a pleasure, aside from the eye strain and isolation and obsession and depression and inevitable breaking into a cold sweat every time I come across someone dancing in any sort of proximity to my primary focus (mine! mine! mine!).  But the need to finish the dissertation 

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-80247732104633480722010-05-22T12:36:00.032-06:002011-12-29T12:05:01.171-07:00

Enough with the linen. Too much maintenance, plus one second after you stop ironing, you're a citizen of Wrinkle City again. Try not to get all excited about those adorable Honda Fits. It's Husband's turn for a new car, given that he has uncomplainingly driven that ancient Camry which probably qualifies for HazMat status, what with all the babies' flinging of random food particles that have since

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-45240449912707092022010-05-20T20:20:00.013-06:002011-12-29T12:05:01.197-07:00

Eldest: We won the basketball game!Me: That's wonderful, sweetie!Eldest: Yeah, and I scored almost all the points.Me: Wow, great job! Did you practice your passing, too?Eldest: No. I just ran right past everyone and scored. When I grow up, I'll pass to other people.Me: Well, you know part of what makes a good team is good passing.Eldest: Yeah, but now I just like good scoring. And being

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-68810682579127124122010-05-19T15:07:00.047-06:002011-12-29T12:05:01.224-07:00

The Kitch Witch gave me some homework. Note: if you read this, you are hereby tagged. Here goes. My character/celebrity crushes, in chronological order.1. David Cassidy, when he was on The Partridge Family. The long hair? The grooviness? What's not to like?2. Gilbert Blythe. You'll either understand this or you won't, depending on (a) whether or not you read Anne of Green Gables and (b) whether

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-55763236913687508222010-05-18T09:43:00.034-06:002011-12-29T12:05:01.252-07:00

Dear How I Met Your Mother writers: Could we please have more Barney and less everyone else?Dear Children's Sneaker Manufacturers: Could we please have more agreement on size charts and less individualized numbering systems? Because I've got three pair of shoes right now, all marked 10.5, that would fit a munchkin, a circus clown, and a sasquatch, respectively. None of them fit my son,

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-10133335226765540082010-05-11T00:00:00.020-06:002011-12-29T12:05:01.280-07:00

Original:There was an old lady who swallowed a flyI don't know why she swallowed a fly.Perhaps she'll die.Youngest's Version:There was an old lady who swallowed a fly'Haps she'll die.And then she swallowed a spider. Who sat down beside her.And a dog came ruff-ruff right into her tummy.And then a bat from Excitebots flew into her mouth.And the snappie turtle rolled in there too.And she ate a tree

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-19532391415551250262010-04-27T07:57:00.015-06:002011-12-29T12:05:01.314-07:00

Youngest [staring delightedly at my bag holding a ringing cell phone]: "Your purse is singing!!"Eldest [shaking box]: "I can't put these Legos together. They didn't come with destructions."Youngest: "Hey Star-Star [what he's calling me this week], I'm going to wash my hands with love! heart! and soap!"And...in honor of Poem In Your Pocket day, here is Eldest's first-ever poem, which he recited

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-61348047091796742892010-04-26T19:53:00.026-06:002011-12-29T12:05:01.348-07:00

Welcome to the first installment of our new series, in which we here at Inktopia provide a line of literature, reimagined to suit a new situation. You are hereby invited to play along in the comments -- making suggestions about other ways that this line might be repurposed.First up: from Charles Dickens (A Tale of Two Cities): "‘Tis a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done..."'"

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-73935042684124206432010-04-12T09:35:00.024-06:002011-12-29T12:05:01.377-07:00

So Youngest's day care is having a theme week, wherein every day the kids get to wear something fun. Today was sports day, which I forgot. (Aside: Youngest thinks the days of the week are as follows: Oneday, Twoday, Threeday, Fourday, and Fiveday. It does sound like that, doesn't it?) Anyway, so I messed up the thematic celebration of Oneday and vowed to do Twoday up right.The list says tomorrow

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-82965608018015834252010-03-23T09:37:00.011-06:002011-12-29T12:05:01.408-07:00

Eldest: What's 14 plus 6?Me: 20.Eldest: Yes! Good job!Eldest: Ok, what's 5 minus 6?Me: Minus 1.Eldest: That's negative 1, actually.Me: Ok. Negative 1.Youngest: My turn! Mom, what's pink minus purple?Me: Wait, what?Youngest: What's pink minus purple?Me: Hmmmm. I don't know.Youngest: Yes, you do.Me: Magenta?Youngest [rolling eyes]: No. It's orange.Me: Ok...Youngest: What's purple minus 3?Me: Um...

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-20106504941902044162010-03-14T20:36:00.028-06:002011-12-29T12:05:01.445-07:00

Stylist: What can I do for you?Me [gesturing toward my longish, past-the-shoulders hair]: I'd like a trim, please.Stylist: Ok, what would you like?Me: It's all the same length, so how about just a half-inch all around?Stylist: Great.[two minutes later]Stylist: Um, the back is longer than the front, so is it ok if I cut an inch off there?Me: So that it's all the same length?Stylist: Yes.Me: Sure.[

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-57556838776407548472010-01-29T07:53:00.029-07:002011-12-29T12:05:01.474-07:00

Apologies to Charles Chesnutt for spelling his name wrong on the syllabus. I don't know why I spelled it "Chestnut," though I suspect hunger was the culprit, which trumps all proofreading abilities.And to Georges Melies for struggling to pronounce his name correctly. For some reason, it alternates in coming out as either MeliAY or Meli-ez. Basically, I am an idiote fantastique.Further proof:

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-73965979092030166032010-01-24T06:50:00.019-07:002011-12-29T12:05:01.509-07:00

During which parental units nod, smile, exchange amused looks, and just generally try to keep up...Eldest: We were playing Duck, Duck, Goose, and I was chasing Johnny Fish -- he's the fastest kid in first grade. That's Johnny Fish, not Johnny Jones. Johnny Jones wasn't there. And Johnny Fish is the fastest kid. Not Johnny Jones. And you know what? I ran as fast as I could, and then: I tagged him!

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-34130075996979536162010-01-23T07:51:00.018-07:002011-12-29T12:05:01.539-07:00

Progressive Lenses: Are they really progressive? Which I believe implies a certain improvement...Like a number of blogamigos, I recently began wearing progressive lenses. The good news? I did not pick out Ben Franklin II. Kinda like the frames I got: black, studious, with a little geek chic.The bad news? I can't see. At all. Every angle is uniformly worse than if I'm not wearing them. Plus,

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-17016502757616563782010-01-19T13:44:00.033-07:002011-12-29T12:05:01.569-07:00

After being diagnosed with nearsightedness and astigmatism, I've worn glasses since third grade. (First pair = hideous. Shaped like Benjamin Franklin's, only made out of purple plastic. With swirls. Second pair: bifocals with dividing line, shaped like a stop sign, made out of gold wire. "Hi, I'm in elementary school and wearing granny glasses. This is so good for my self-esteem.") Graduated to

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-25936778571901998682010-01-18T11:09:00.029-07:002011-12-29T12:05:01.601-07:00

It's heartening that school curriculums are underscoring the significance of the Civil Rights Movement even in early grades. Eldest told me all about what he'd learned in school last week: he could give a very clear narrative about how there was segregation and how Dr. King's speech was trying to bring people together (he also explained the tragedy of his assassination). Then he described how

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-57174897915468391252009-12-31T18:54:00.050-07:002011-12-29T12:05:01.632-07:00

Dear Outlet Stores:Here's a little feedback from a shopper who drove 45 minutes to visit for the first time. Since "outlet" implies overstocks and imperfections, it's expected that there will be a little discount. Going to an outlet and finding the prices to be the same as, or even more than, what I've seen in non-outlet-land, was rather frustrating. After wandering through the aisles and gasping

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-25741174262941894762009-12-25T13:45:00.011-07:002011-12-29T12:05:01.665-07:00

[Eldest hands me a memo he's written because he's worried that Youngest's wish wasn't heard]: From: Eldest. To: Santa. My brother wants a truck. I hope your reindeer are ready.Eldest: Hey, these chips are named after Santa. You know: Kris Pringle!Youngest: Christmas is when baby Jesus was borned. And there was a dinosaur. And they all went to the manger and opened presents.Hope you're all having

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-47109624105269723372009-12-22T15:03:00.039-07:002011-12-29T12:05:01.698-07:00

Was momentarily overcome by holiday cheer so decided to have a good old-fashioned bakeathon. As I don't have a rolling pin, we were smushing the dough flat with our hands so that we could use the cookie cutters to make festive shapes. This went on for hours because the kids wouldn't listen to my helpful suggestion about doing more than one cookie per roll-out smush-out. And after all that, our

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-70970441224869108032009-12-20T23:22:00.013-07:002011-12-29T12:05:01.728-07:00

Youngest [reassuringly, after coughing]: It's ok, guys. I keeped my germs in.

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-33979837069158324932009-12-18T09:45:00.036-07:002011-12-29T12:05:01.764-07:00

There Was This.By Eldest's school, there is a four-way stop. When all lanes are full, we are supposed to take turns, going to the right around the circle. Granted, it's sometimes complicated by the crossing guard pausing things from time to time, but still, you'd think that the person who was next would still get to be next afterwards. Instead, after the crossing guard leaves the intersection,

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-48564970747443707072009-12-15T22:36:00.025-07:002011-12-29T12:05:01.795-07:00

Here we are, a year after our first Mysterious Ways of Santa conversation (replayed below), and Eldest is still asking me about how Santa will get into our house. Sigh. I'm still taking suggestions, as my son is not taking "magic" for an answer...Eldest: So...how will Santa get here?Me: What do you mean?Eldest: Well, he has to go down a lot of chimneys.Me: That's true, but he's really good at

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-79124392519813746832009-12-06T09:23:00.022-07:002011-12-29T12:05:01.824-07:00

After having a brief visit with Santa yesterday, Eldest came over to me with a somewhat confused face: "He forgot to ask me what I'm wishing for!" I tried to reassure him that we could just write a letter, but Eldest wasn't having any of that. He thought about it for a few minutes and then walked right back up to Santa. His wish was going to be heard, dang it. And he wasn't taking any of that "Hi

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-19107479115515776982009-11-30T21:25:00.021-07:002011-12-29T12:05:01.859-07:00

Dear Lady At The Zoo: Honestly, I don't know how many people would pick up the ten-dollar bill on the ground, walk over to you, and ask if you dropped some money. But that's just how I roll. And it would have been ever so nice of you to say "thank you," instead of giving me a suspicious look like I had just picked your pocket. I assure you, if I had pickpocketed that cash, giving it back would

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-6204860696785328182009-11-28T23:59:00.011-07:002011-12-29T12:05:01.888-07:00

Youngest: How do you spell "wheel"?Eldest: W-H-E-E-L.Youngest: Nope. It goes E-L-S-2-5.

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-28001053179974457332009-11-17T23:17:00.017-07:002011-12-29T12:05:01.919-07:00

Hi, I was just here an hour ago? And this receipt shows that I was charged for three of these things and I only bought two? No, I didn't notice until I got home. But then I came right back. Since I was charged for three instead of two. Um, I'm not sure how to prove that. Here are the two I bought, still in the bag. I don't have a third. Does that work? No? Yes, I understand that people could

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-70356196211421043852009-11-10T16:07:00.064-07:002011-12-29T12:05:01.952-07:00

Dear Craigslist: Mad love to you! When the system works, it is absolutely beautiful. Everyone is happy. And it's good for the earth, too, when we recycle things. Of course, there are sometimes glitches, so I've created this handy user guide. Mostly because my husband said, "Would you just blog about it already?" when I was trying to tell him my observations. Kisses, InkyHi Buyers!Do understand

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-33925682361759920932009-11-07T21:09:00.028-07:002011-12-29T12:05:01.998-07:00

I have to admit that I do not understand how the mind of a three-year-old works. To wit...Youngest: Tomorrow, if I grow big, can I ride on a horsie?Me: Grow big?Youngest: Like a growned up. And people who ride horsies.Me: Ok. If you grow big before tomorrow, I'll find you a horsie. Because let's face it, you will have broken all the rules of the natural world and earned it.Youngest: Yay! I will

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-43747339124415496392009-10-31T20:42:00.019-06:002011-12-29T12:05:02.174-07:00

[Eldest, from noon until we left at 7 pm]"Now can we leave? Now? Can we leave now? How much longer? I'm ready. Are you ready? Are we ready to leave? Now? Let's leave. Are we leaving? Now?"[Youngest, after figuring out that there was a treat at each house]"Ooh, I want to go over dere...and dere...and dere...with the ding dong and then candy!"[Youngest, near the end of the trick-or-treating]"I am

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375978985829741346.post-63748317723262189682009-10-30T00:01:00.022-06:002011-12-29T12:05:02.209-07:00

Yesterday was Scary Text Day. And thank you so much for playing, dear readers. That was fun! Today: films or television shows that scared you senseless!(I could only think of one tv entry, that episode of Twilight Zone where everyone was afraid of the little boy who could wish things into being, so the rest are all films.)10. Jurassic Park (1993): Before you mock, if you saw this for the first

Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067176508878195885noreply@blogger.com29