My daughter is participating in a mock election. For the first part--the nomination process, if you will, she had to answer three of four questions. Right now, my heart is breaking for missing homeschooling, because I have missed her enthusiasm for learning.
1. What qualities make a great President? Use examples of past presidents to prove your point of view.
A quality of a president is optimism. Herbert Hoover was almost optimistic when the Depression hit. Also, FDR was optimistic. When he gave out the New Deal, he was optimistic that it would work.
2. What issues do you see in this school that require student leadership? How would you try to solve them?
I do not see anything wrong with this school except the food. There should be more and healthier food and less junk food. It may be crazy, but if they're serving junk food, make it Italian pizza. That's healthy. I have Italian ancestors.
3. Why is it important for people to vote? (she opted not to answer this one)
4. Who would you vote for in the 2008 Presidential Election and why? (Please give at least 3 good reasons with details.)
John McCain would be a good president, because when he was serving in the Vietnam War, when he was captured and made prisoner, when he was asked if he wanted early release, and he said "No." That was serving our country. McCain has had 25 years in Congress, whereas Obama has only four years in Congress. McCain wants to let parents choose schools for their children.
~~~
She wrote this essay with very little coaching. I did remind her that she knew of some former presidents, because she has read the American Girls books. We looked at the campaign websites for both candidates; I tried to get her to be skeptical of what she read. But she came to her own decision.
Too bad her aunt's head will explode when she reads it.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Deniece & Denephew
Or should it be Frick & Frack? Or Thing 1 & Thing 2? In any case, that's Deniece, on de left. She's smiling, because she was just freed from the Transitional Nursery, where she had to do 3 days time for "retracting" while she breathed. (Translation: she was working too hard to do it. Chicka can correct me in the comments if I'm wrong. I'm sure she will, since her opportunities to correct me are so rare.) Well, she's not so much smiling because she was freed, it's more because when she was rolled into the room (after the paparazzi let up), her mommy pushed Denephew onto the boppy to hold her.
It's those small victories that make life worth living when you're a twin.
I'm looking at the PeaPod costumes from Party City. Since October is a 3 paycheck month, I just might have to do it.
It's those small victories that make life worth living when you're a twin.
I'm looking at the PeaPod costumes from Party City. Since October is a 3 paycheck month, I just might have to do it.
Spreadsheets
I've started a spreadsheet.
Let me 'splain.
Over the past several years, it's been a running non-joke between NoNick and me that he has some sort of Excel spreadsheet, on which he calculates how short I have been. Did I have a migraine headache one weekend and not help him with the kids? That went on the spreadsheet. Did I go to a Friends of Library meeting? That went on the spreadsheet.
I never actually got to see the spreadsheet, mind you; I only heard about things that were on it. I was busting my rear to keep up with the kids, the homeschooling, the house. . .we were both overworked and overstressed. To me, the concept was alien and offensive, a way of keeping score. Except we both were on the same team. Weren't we?
Obviously not.
But now, when we're really not on the same team. . .I've started keeping score.
I have to.
I know that in a few years, as soon as he can, he's going to ask for a reduction in the money he pays me. It is all about the money, isn't it? (I guess it is; it's a pretty good way of keeping score if one is into that sort of thing.) And when he does, he's going to whip out his spreadsheet to talk about all of the things that I've done.
And I have got to have a way to defend myself against him.
So now I have my own spreadsheet, and I'm keeping score of the times he's inappropriate in front of the children. (Like "Mommy must have taken the brooms"--no, Mommy spent her own money to buy more brooms. Or "Mommy has all of the hairbrushes"--no, Mommy has three. There are approximately 634 more hairbrushes somewhere in the house, because I've bought 637 in the past few years. Find one. I don't like hearing that kind of stuff, but have reacted neutrally in front of the kids.) The times he's late picking them up or returning them. The times he's uses the financial arrangements inappropriately. The times he doesn't show up or call to reschedule appointments we've made to go over things to get this resolved. (Like today.)
So far, I've been 100% within compliance. I have spent more time and energy trying to get my stuff out of his house than I have to get it put away in my own. (I was horribly embarrassed when the cavalry arrived yesterday. I was sick in the bed with a High Fever, and the cavalry brought chicken soup and ginger ale from Whole Foods. Yeah, you read that right, someone went out--unasked--and bought me soup that wasn't Campbells and ginger ale from some boutique bottler. As well as some beef barley soup, some cheese and crackers--not Ritz and Kraft, which is what I had. Anyway, I was so upset that there was a knock at the door when my house looked like 10 miles of bad road, I almost didn't answer. But then I saw there was food. I can stand a bit of humiliation for a good feed.)
And so now, I have a spreadsheet.
Let me 'splain.
Over the past several years, it's been a running non-joke between NoNick and me that he has some sort of Excel spreadsheet, on which he calculates how short I have been. Did I have a migraine headache one weekend and not help him with the kids? That went on the spreadsheet. Did I go to a Friends of Library meeting? That went on the spreadsheet.
I never actually got to see the spreadsheet, mind you; I only heard about things that were on it. I was busting my rear to keep up with the kids, the homeschooling, the house. . .we were both overworked and overstressed. To me, the concept was alien and offensive, a way of keeping score. Except we both were on the same team. Weren't we?
Obviously not.
But now, when we're really not on the same team. . .I've started keeping score.
I have to.
I know that in a few years, as soon as he can, he's going to ask for a reduction in the money he pays me. It is all about the money, isn't it? (I guess it is; it's a pretty good way of keeping score if one is into that sort of thing.) And when he does, he's going to whip out his spreadsheet to talk about all of the things that I've done.
And I have got to have a way to defend myself against him.
So now I have my own spreadsheet, and I'm keeping score of the times he's inappropriate in front of the children. (Like "Mommy must have taken the brooms"--no, Mommy spent her own money to buy more brooms. Or "Mommy has all of the hairbrushes"--no, Mommy has three. There are approximately 634 more hairbrushes somewhere in the house, because I've bought 637 in the past few years. Find one. I don't like hearing that kind of stuff, but have reacted neutrally in front of the kids.) The times he's late picking them up or returning them. The times he's uses the financial arrangements inappropriately. The times he doesn't show up or call to reschedule appointments we've made to go over things to get this resolved. (Like today.)
So far, I've been 100% within compliance. I have spent more time and energy trying to get my stuff out of his house than I have to get it put away in my own. (I was horribly embarrassed when the cavalry arrived yesterday. I was sick in the bed with a High Fever, and the cavalry brought chicken soup and ginger ale from Whole Foods. Yeah, you read that right, someone went out--unasked--and bought me soup that wasn't Campbells and ginger ale from some boutique bottler. As well as some beef barley soup, some cheese and crackers--not Ritz and Kraft, which is what I had. Anyway, I was so upset that there was a knock at the door when my house looked like 10 miles of bad road, I almost didn't answer. But then I saw there was food. I can stand a bit of humiliation for a good feed.)
And so now, I have a spreadsheet.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Burning answers
Last night I filled up my gas tank. Both conditions--no line, less than $4--were met. As I drove to work this morning, I saw people waiting in lines for gas that fit neither. Why are people idiots?
Tuesday night, the kids were dropped off at about 8:00. Don't think that I'm not keeping a little log book of everything that goes on. I may never ever use it--I hope never to use it. But I know that NoNick has a habit of keeping his own little log book, and so I will need to start that habit. For no other reason but to have as a defense when he starts something. Because anyone who wants to create 20 pages of parenting plan is going to start something.
I can't talk politics here, but I have to say that one set of candidates scares me worse than the other, and it might surprise you which ones. Might not, though. If I were to follow the voting strategy of Emma Gennaro (and a nickel for anyone who knows what that is other than my sister), I'd have to vote Republican, though. Somehow I doubt that will be the deciding factor.
I have spent my first week with sole custody of the kids, and it has been fun. Thing 2 is sick (this would be the Boybarian), but other than that, things are good. They've been in bed asleep on time (hah!) and on time to school (hah! hah!) every day. Dinners have been a little catch as catch can, but mostly good.
I haven't made it to see Denise and Denephew, who had their grand opening on Tuesday. They arrived through the window, but the labor was long, not intense and certainly not productive. Between the two of them, they weighed almost 14 pounds, although the exact numbers vary depending on who is doing the reporting.
Tuesday night, the kids were dropped off at about 8:00. Don't think that I'm not keeping a little log book of everything that goes on. I may never ever use it--I hope never to use it. But I know that NoNick has a habit of keeping his own little log book, and so I will need to start that habit. For no other reason but to have as a defense when he starts something. Because anyone who wants to create 20 pages of parenting plan is going to start something.
I can't talk politics here, but I have to say that one set of candidates scares me worse than the other, and it might surprise you which ones. Might not, though. If I were to follow the voting strategy of Emma Gennaro (and a nickel for anyone who knows what that is other than my sister), I'd have to vote Republican, though. Somehow I doubt that will be the deciding factor.
I have spent my first week with sole custody of the kids, and it has been fun. Thing 2 is sick (this would be the Boybarian), but other than that, things are good. They've been in bed asleep on time (hah!) and on time to school (hah! hah!) every day. Dinners have been a little catch as catch can, but mostly good.
I haven't made it to see Denise and Denephew, who had their grand opening on Tuesday. They arrived through the window, but the labor was long, not intense and certainly not productive. Between the two of them, they weighed almost 14 pounds, although the exact numbers vary depending on who is doing the reporting.
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