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The Brush of Death.

October 28, 2014October 27, 2014 Rachel Callahan Boy Child = Bizarre., I embarrass myself just for your amusement., Just My Luck, Kids: The Experience., Parent of the Year, Toddlers: The Experience

I’ve made many humiliating parental admissions on this blog.

You guys know that I only bathe my children twice a week.

You are aware that I never make their beds.

You have been apprised of my issues with Sippy Cups and Mold.

So you probably won’t be shocked that I’m not the best teeth-brushing mother, either.

(And although I’ve tried to be a flossing mother, it’s really a ridiculous undertaking since the gaps between their teeth are so large that it’s like rubbing a piece of yarn between two houses an acre apart and expecting to pick up some paint chips.)

But back to brushing.

Ali is responsible for her own teeth, and she does a decent job, although she must be reminded two times a day because heaven forbid a kid actually realize that they are responsible for the same things every single day.

I mean really. There’s just no logic to expecting her to know that she is required to brush her teeth today just because she was required to do so yesterday. And last week on this day. And last month on this day. And last year on this day.

Moving on.

Then there’s Noah.

I’ve been riding high on the fact that he’s gotten four good dentist reports, and have let this undeserved success fuel me in my lack of proper attention to his teeth.

(And I might also occasionally tell myself “Eh, they’re only baby teeth!”)

It’s not that I don’t try.

Really.

It’s just that he doesn’t appreciate my efforts and he’s a professional wiggler and whiner, so short of me buying a cast-off set of stocks from a medieval torture chamber estate sale or a second-hand straight jacket from a Mental Institution Going Out of Business Everything Must Go Sale, I’m not going to be able to force him to let me properly clean his teeth.

So I do my best at night before he starts screaming and thrashing (because I’m supposedly hurting him but just wait till he feels how comfortable a straight jacket is), and sometimes I don’t even try in the mornings.

If I’m feeling really lazy, I’ll just ask Ali to brush his teeth while they’re in there together, and I don’t check up on them so I don’t have to feel guilty about her seven-year-old sub-par cleansing of her brother’s mouth garden.

Because I’m the best sort of Mommy.

Last Thursday night was one of those times.

I had taken the kids out of town by myself (more on that adventure later), and by nightfall I was exhausted. We’d skipped nap, we’d had adventure and intrigue, we’d walked and shopped and explored, I’d never had a second of alone time to regroup, and they’d asked a combined total of 1,238 questions.

There was no hope of having the patience for a screaming teeth-brushing fest in my immediate future.

So I sent Ali and Noah to the tiny hotel bathroom and instructed Ali to brush her teeth, then Noah’s.

The difference, however, was that I could see the children from my reclining comatose position on my hotel bed.

And what I saw changed the world…forever.

I did not see a screaming, whining, thrashing toddler.

Nor did I see a seven-year-old make a cursory toothbrush swipe across her brother’s face to be able to say she obeyed me.

I saw this.

A toddler willingly opening his mouth for his sister.

When she told him to.

Wider than he has ever opened his mouth for me.

Then, this.

My son accepting a thorough brushing of his teeth – with a smile.

A SMILE!! And even a giggle or two.

Then, THIS:

She said “Say eeee!” And he actually said eeee.

Every single night I tell that same kid to say eeee and he acts like he has no freaking idea what I’m talking about. Never, has he ever, put his teeth together and opened his lips to allow me to brush his teeth like a real human being!

I had chalked it up to him being three and not a bright firstborn and simply not understanding my commands. Now, I see that he is certainly bright. And extraordinarily talented at hiding his brightness.

And that his mouth can indeed open happily when a toothbrush is nearby.

And that his Magical Sister will forevermore have the responsibility of brushing his teeth.

The game is up, son. The game is up.

The Best Worst Comments, Volume II

October 23, 2014January 13, 2016 Rachel Callahan Best Worst Comments, I'm a Blog Geek, Quirky quirky quirkiness, Weird Strange and True

You may have heard…bloggers live for comments.

They are just the best. They add richness and depth to the story, offer wisdom, information, and differing viewpoints, as well as giving us the positive feedback we need to keep writing – because every blogger’s Love Language is Words of Affirmation – why else would we spend hundreds of hours writing down our inane and unimportant thoughts?

However, even the worst comments are still the best. They always come from drive-by readers (never regulars), and usually have a certain flair of nuttiness that truly deserves an award. I shared the first volume of these a year and a half ago, and have been saving all new best worst comments just for you.

Almost all of my negative comments are left on my collection of denim posts. Since all of those posts are at least two years old and already have an insane number of ridiculously repetitive comments, I often wonder why people still feel the need to leave their thoughts.

As does, apparently, Rod.

At least he said “we.” Recognizing one’s own hypocrisy is the first step, Rod.

Dina disagrees with my denim conclusions and offered her own ideas about what the problem was.

Well, besides the fact that I had multiple models so as to not rely on the sizing issues of one specific butt, Dina will be happy to know that my new running muscles have “fixed” that problem. And now all my jeans don’t fit.

So I guess I need to try Gap jeans now and they’ll be all better?

Or not.

Monica has another explanation.

I am so conflicted!! Who is right about my butt – Dina or Monica?! Does it need growing or shrinking? I’m going to have a rear crisis right here right now.

Neto felt the need to leave his wishes and dreams for all to read.

Thank you for your input, Neto. I wish you the best in your quest.

Lisa was especially angry. Because only especially angry people use the word friggen and misspell six words in two paragraphs.

Thankfully, I do not think my readers are too stupid to notice the asterisk and read the writing on the photo she’s referring to that clearly indicates it was meant to be satirical.

Thanks for being smarter than Lisa, everyone.

Eay felt the need to point out other problems.

Never read comments with such poor .period. .usage.

Sometimes people think the fact that I use the term “Mom Jeans” means I’m anti-Mom.

If I am lucky, I am already a Mom. As is clearly shown in my blog header and stated in the post on which you comment. Psh. Details, details.

Huma, on the other hand, thinks I’ve been living under a rock.

I have the commercial memorized and can act it out if you’d like (as long as I can be Amy Poehler.) But thanks for the education anyway, Huma.

But my favorite jeans commenter of late was Mike, who, it should be noted, speaks for ALL (good) men.

You heard it first here, people. Nicole Richie is what we should all be shooting for. And if your man is no good and you can’t figure out why, then you best check the tag on the inside of your jeans.

Besides my blog, another place that’s fun to get comments is on James Spann’s Facebook Page. As our local Meteorologist, he occasionally shares my sunset pictures, and he has a far better collection of nuts than I do.

For instance, this picture,

brought out the chem-trail conspiracy theorists. See the cross in the sky? Those are left by commercial airplanes, which the United States Government uses to spread poison that is going to kill us all.

So it should be noted that I am a highly irresponsible mother for letting my children sit on a hillside under such dangerous and noxious gases. When they grow a third leg and a second belly-button, everyone will see and believe.

And then there was this photo, which I took during the two weeks in the Spring that we have Japanese Cherry Blossoms.

It captured the particular ire of Misty.

Some tried to explain it to her,

Others tried to encourage her to relax,

or just move on,

but Misty. Misty could not be satiated.

White Jesus snuggling with a Velociraptor!!!

I was intrigued. Is this a thing???

So I did what anyone would do in these circumstances.

I Googled.

“White Jesus snuggling with a velociraptor.”

And what to my wondering eyes did appear….

Holy. Crap.

Relief swept over me. Because if Jesus once posed with a Velociraptor, then my photo (that I distinctly remember taking and never loading into Photoshop) must be real, too.

Now that we can all rest happily knowing that the Velociraptor is so well taken care of, back to blog comments.

Once I wrote about getting a pink streak in my hair, and I mentioned the fact that Chris “tells” me to do whatever I want with my hair as long as I keep it long. I didn’t feel the need to spell it out that I willingly agree to this because I love him and seriously enjoy making him happy, but in retrospect, I see that explanation might have helped “ffff.”

Oh my, how creative of you to fill out your email address as poop@fart.com. Or will Ezekiel not allow you to have a real address of your very own?

Last Christmas, my kids watched a Disney movie that repeatedly implied that Santa wasn’t real. I wrote an exaggerated, over-dramatized post about it. One that Katy did not appreciate.

I’m dealing with it, Katy. I’m dealing with it.

Finally, Spam.

I currently have over 15,000 spam comments in my filter (and I think it clears every 30 days.) I see almost none of these, but every now and then one makes it through. Almost none of those are interesting, but this one – this is The One in 15,000.

Not for the comment itself.

Just for the brilliant author name.

I SO want to meet “leggings Of the shadowy protector.” I mean, how thrilling of a job is it to be leggings for a shadowy protector? Does the shadowy protector treat his leggings right, never wearing them as pants but always covering his butt? And if not, is the legging’s print awkwardly misaligned on the rear, giving the shadowy protector the look of one leg (and butt-cheek) being longer than the other?

Furthermore, does the shadowy protector care for his leggings, making sure before every use that they haven’t developed one of those annoying yet ubiquitous crotch holes?

And are they pleather? Because I have a feeling that the shadowy protector might wear shiny faux-leather leggings. And call them his “vegan” pants.

And finally, why is “Of” the only word in the title that’s capitalized?

I will never, ever quit wondering.

The Grade of Two.

October 16, 2014October 16, 2014 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Homeschooling: Not just for the socially awkward anymore.

It typically happens that each fall, my blog gets all schooly for a while, as my brain is filled with homeschool thoughts and therefore that’s what comes out.

But for some reason, that hasn’t happened this year. So either I’m not focused enough on educating my child or I’ve just learned to compartmentalize and not bore you all with educational details.

After all, we all graduated and fled school for a reason, right?

But those of you who are homeschool moms have been checking in with me to see what we’ve been doing this year, what curriculum we’re using, and how many times I’ve locked myself in my bedroom so far.

So here’s an update for those of you who care.

We started our year off with a celebration of crepe paper and using up all my color printer ink.

Like last year, Ali got a First Day of School present.

Unlike last year, Noah did not. Sending him to preschool has its perks.

Her present might have been more for me than her,

as I find rainbow looming quite therapeutic after a long day’s school.

She then got to peek at her schoolbooks for the first time – it never hurts to wrap those like a present, too.

We are now eight weeks into the school year, and I’m fairly happy with all of our choices.

Despite a few somewhat annoying stories last year, I decided to go almost entirely with BJU curriculum this year, with the exception of Horizons Spelling and Handwriting Without Tears.

The English is fantastic, covering a lot of gaps in last year’s learning with regards to proper sentence building, as well as teaching a good bit about how to write stories. Reading is the same as last year – the stories are better this year, and the reading comprehension encouraged by the workbook is excellent. History and Science are okay – I don’t know that I’ll ever find an elementary history and science book that I’m really excited about.

Math was my big decision this year. Ali has always been good at math, but super slow. And slow math is tedious math. I wanted to find a happy balance this year – a book that taught her mental strategies without being completely based on manipulatives, because I knew Noah would lose those and I’d get tired of finding them within the first two days.

Plus, my brain just doesn’t work that way.

The BJU Math seemed to hit that balance well, and I have really liked it. It has taught Ali some fantastic mental strategies without relying on visual cues, and it seems to be going much better so far this year.

…although I could do without them over-spiritualizing it.

It’s MATH, people. I love Jesus but let’s not make Him cheesy by inserting Him into our word problems.

After sharing the above picture with my neighbor Renee, she texted back a revised version of the problem:

“Anna handed out 15 tracts. Four of her friends are allowed to watch Glee. Three don’t say swear words but never go to Church. Five were baptized as infants, Four walked the aisle when they turned eight. How many are going to heaven?”

Everyone needs neighbors like mine.

Handwriting is still a struggle, and I am in the process of enrolling Ali with a Handwriting Without Tears expert to help with that – updates to come later. Her spelling, however, has progressed beautifully, giving me hope that she also is a natural speller.

For Geography, we have a few iPad games, and have also really enjoyed United States Top Trumps.

Top Trumps is a simple and fun British card game with dozens of different genres. A blog reader, Jennifer, sent Ali her first Top Trumps cards (they were the Hello Kitty variety), and we got completely addicted to the game. I was pretty excited when I found these on Amazon with all sorts of interesting state facts so I had an excuse to play and call it school.

For bible, we’re doing several different things (NOT including math), but a lot of it revolves around Awanas at our church, as Noah is in Cubbies and Ali is in Sparks this year.

They’re both learning a lot, and as an added bonus, Chris and I have every Wednesday evening to run together while they’re enjoying their classes.

Ignore the bad running selfie – just note the blissful happiness of a couple finding one hour a week alone together.

I’m still using and quite happy with my ever-evolving planning spreadsheet (if you’d like it, email me – I share), and yes – I work really hard to keep my achievement stickers in such tight order.

Also, it should be noted that I always fill out my planner AS we’re doing school, not beforehand. I don’t believe in erasing, and can’t handle the pressure of pre-planned achievement.

Since Noah is going to preschool three days a week, I find myself out of the house more than usual, so Ali has gotten to experience school in alternate locations, such as the Vestavia library,

The downtown library,

And Birmingham’s hippest coffee shop, Urban Standard.

She is a fan. Especially of the chocolate milk.

Also, Ali and I have started running together one day a week, and she’s shocked me at how good she is.

She can run ten minute miles, an entire mile without stopping, and so far up to three miles with a few breaks. And we’re enjoying the activity, as well as the fact that we’re making multiple scientific discoveries along the way, such as this mutant giant caterpillar,

And this mysterious but amazingly in-tact jawbone.

We always research our finds afterward and even take them with us if they’re not alive.

Since we run to a candy store (bribery is powerful, people), we left the jawbone on the trail where we found it to pick up on the way back. The sweet girl at the fancy candy store in Mountain Brook Village didn’t bat an eyelash when I asked “can we have an extra bag? We found a cool jawbone we want to pick up on the way home.”

That find was especially interesting, because who knew that you could identify its animal of origin just by the number of different kinds of teeth?

I didn’t.

I sent a picture of it to a Veterinarian blog reader, Elizabeth, and to our local Science Center, McWane. Both returned the same answer:

Elizabeth even sent us textbook information about animal dentistry so that we could study more deeply, thereby making science way more fun than usual.

And really, I was quite relieved that it was an Opossum. Because the alternatives seemed much more disgusting.

Dog? Gross. Cat? Tragic. Opossum? Awesome.

In conclusion, I’d say the year is going fairly well so far. As would, apparently, Ali.

(I ignore spelling mistakes when surrounded by loving sentiments.)

Oh – and the answer is three. I’ve locked myself in the bedroom three times.

As always, I am open to any and all homeschooling questions. Feel free to ask yours in the comments.

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