Pete sends his love too, but since he doesn't attend a class that has a deadline for valentines, he didn't get to make any this year.
Hope your day is LOVEly.
Goodbye
4 days ago
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Valentines
Following Christie's lead, we wish you a Happy Valentine's Day.
Pete sends his love too, but since he doesn't attend a class that has a deadline for valentines, he didn't get to make any this year.
Hope your day is LOVEly.
Pete sends his love too, but since he doesn't attend a class that has a deadline for valentines, he didn't get to make any this year.
Hope your day is LOVEly.
Friday, February 5, 2010
The Short List
A short list of things that I am tired of today:
1. Pete peeing through his overnight diapers and waking up soaked to the armpits.
2. Laundry. And folding laundry.
3. Making dinner and listening to the children wail and moan "That's ugly! That's yucky! I hate that! I don't have anything to eat!"
4. Trying to fit my recyclables into ridiculously small crates (yes, I even requested an additional crate). It's overflowing, and there's still another week until they're picked up. Come on Waste Management, gimme a giant can with wheels!
What's your peeve today?
1. Pete peeing through his overnight diapers and waking up soaked to the armpits.
2. Laundry. And folding laundry.
3. Making dinner and listening to the children wail and moan "That's ugly! That's yucky! I hate that! I don't have anything to eat!"
4. Trying to fit my recyclables into ridiculously small crates (yes, I even requested an additional crate). It's overflowing, and there's still another week until they're picked up. Come on Waste Management, gimme a giant can with wheels!
What's your peeve today?
Monday, February 1, 2010
Who Knows?
On Fridays the kids' bring home their peechees, and I review their homework before tossing 99.94% of it in the trash. It's not that I'm not a sentimental mother, it's just that I'm trying to prevent my house from becoming a fire hazard. I save a few gems to share with their father when he gets home (and then they get trashed too).
This made the first cut last Friday.
I cracked up imagining Jake tiring of the essay questions and resorting to "Who knows" as his final answer. I imagined his boredom with the silly, repetitive line of questioning. His father and I enjoyed a good chuckle.
Then Dan asked, "So did the dog get the bone?"
"I don't know," I answered, "I didn't bother to read the story." Of course the next thing I did was read the story, reprinted below for your reading pleasure.
Struggling to put aside the incredibly annoying overuse of "teeny-tiny," I diligently searched for the answer to whether the dog got the bone.
I should assure you that one of my super skills is reading comprehension--I rocked the national exams. In addition, I'm fairly good at sentence diagramming, and I used to analyze legal documents for a living.
Here's my (professional) opinion: Who knows whether that damn, teeny-tiny dog got the bone.
I clearly comprehended the story, but what I cannot comprehend is why Jake's answer was marked incorrect. I assume this sort of worksheet is testing first grader's reading comprehension, but I can't see what type of answer he was supposed to give.
The voice is never identified. And DOGS CANNOT TALK. Is she dreaming? Is there an intruder? There is simply no way to know. All of which Jake clearly comprehended in his succinct answer.
But aren't there bigger questions here? Such as, how did this kind of crappy worksheet ever make it past the editing process to get published? What exactly are my kids reading at school? And how can I now avoid hyper-analyzing all the schoolwork papers?
This made the first cut last Friday.
I cracked up imagining Jake tiring of the essay questions and resorting to "Who knows" as his final answer. I imagined his boredom with the silly, repetitive line of questioning. His father and I enjoyed a good chuckle.
Then Dan asked, "So did the dog get the bone?"
"I don't know," I answered, "I didn't bother to read the story." Of course the next thing I did was read the story, reprinted below for your reading pleasure.
Struggling to put aside the incredibly annoying overuse of "teeny-tiny," I diligently searched for the answer to whether the dog got the bone.
I should assure you that one of my super skills is reading comprehension--I rocked the national exams. In addition, I'm fairly good at sentence diagramming, and I used to analyze legal documents for a living.
Here's my (professional) opinion: Who knows whether that damn, teeny-tiny dog got the bone.
I clearly comprehended the story, but what I cannot comprehend is why Jake's answer was marked incorrect. I assume this sort of worksheet is testing first grader's reading comprehension, but I can't see what type of answer he was supposed to give.
The voice is never identified. And DOGS CANNOT TALK. Is she dreaming? Is there an intruder? There is simply no way to know. All of which Jake clearly comprehended in his succinct answer.
But aren't there bigger questions here? Such as, how did this kind of crappy worksheet ever make it past the editing process to get published? What exactly are my kids reading at school? And how can I now avoid hyper-analyzing all the schoolwork papers?
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