Monthly Archives: April 2009

Notice to Terri.

1. Laurel is not your granddaughter. Your post to a public conservative forum to the contrary is incorrect. Even worse, when someone referred to Laurel as your ‘progeny,’ you did not correct them because you enjoy so much the glory from riding her coattails.

2.  In what world do you find it acceptable to post Laurel’s IQ score? First, you pulled that number out of the air without understanding it; second, you have now connected that number with my daughter – right or wrong, violated her privacy (we found the post via Google) and we are very angry about it.

3. You have exposed us to the vitriol of your forum buddies, allowing them to criticize me and say things like,

“Don’t worry too much about the fact that this extremely gifted child is being raised by a liberal. The truth is, in her advanced classes and such she will be taught logic, reasoning, and philosophy. She will also be able to grasp those critical thinking skills that are SO important in life — the ability to think for one’s self and to think “outside the box”.

In other words, as she grows and matures (especially when she gets out on her own), she WILL start to examine her mother’s positions on issues, and honestly, even now I’d bet she has moments where her brain is like “what? how does that make sense”, but she may not feel “bold” enough to challenge her mom’s beliefs (yet!).”

Never mind that I took many advanced classes as well, was identified as gifted, attended Missouri Scholars Academy, was awarded a full scholarship to college, and the like. Funny, you don’t mention any of that in your response – oh, and how many advanced classes have YOU taken that have given you critical thinking skills? Laurel’s intelligence comes from ME, not you. How dare you try to imply otherwise? You know very well the way this family is and is not related, yet you choose to ignore them in order to bask in your own limelight. As I pointed out before, she is not your progeny. Your progeny has not even come close enough to smell these types of accomplishments, and you know it.

Don’t you realize that Laurel is GOOGLING HERSELF and is going to RUN ACROSS that post? Shame on you. Shame on the vitriolic nutjobs in that forum whose rabid, salivating, knuckle-dragging hatred for anyone on the left betrays their insecurities in themselves and their position. Shame on all of you for belittling a little girl and her mother who so very clearly did something right in raising her the way she is, regardless of political affiliation.

Go to hell.

Laurel-isms, Part XXVI.

Each week, Laurel has to take her spelling words and make sentences of them. From this week’s spelling sentences:

“12. felony-The felony of murder is punishable by government-sanctioned murder.”

Lest I Forget.

I’m not the greatest housekeeper in the world, but I make my bed every day (almost) and I try to keep the kitchen reasonably decent. I vacuum the floors whenever the dog fur threatens to compile itself into something living and strangle us in our sleep – which is at least three times per week.

But for quite some time, I couldn’t bring myself to clean this mirror:

handprints on the mirror

It’s a funny thing about kids – as a parent, you can’t wait for them to grow up and be able to do for themselves, but when they do just that you struggle to remember what they looked like when they were little. You strain and flex your brain to remember how they talked, what they said. That’s why I keep this blog – so I can jog my memory and put words with the photos to more accurately capture exactly what was happening at the time.

For example, I’m absolutely certain when Ethan made these prints we were telling him not to do it. We have told him many, many times to stop putting prints on the glass, with this same result. I’m sure he was laughing as he did it, too.

And the truth is, I don’t hold it against him. Every time I walked past and saw them, I smiled. I know when he gets into high school, he won’t need us to help him reach the apple on top of the refrigerator. He’ll be trading his toy cars for real ones sooner than I’d like. I smiled because the handprints on the mirror served as notice to us; a reminder to savor who he is right now and how he has imprinted himself on our lives. Too soon he will grow up and stop leaving these prints on my glass, and I will have lost something I can’t get back. I felt I had to preserve these prints, so I asked Greg to take this photo before I cleaned the mirror.

Easter, a Few Days Removed.

Yes, I’m late to this game because we have a new machine now and I didn’t have it set up for posting on the blog JUST THE WAY I WANT IT, and so I just refused to do it.

Because that’s how I roll.

At some point, however, Greg fixed it for me, so now I’m all out of excuses. That’s okay, because really I do want to make this post.

So last weekend was Easter, and we went to visit my mother, but not before dyeing 24 eggs:

dyeing eggs

finished result

“But wait,” you say. “There are, by grab, only 23 eggs in that photo.” You would be correct. One suffered a casualty while being boiled. Also, the purple one in the lower right-hand corner suffered a visible shell fracture in the hands of our resident three-year-old, whose idea of ‘carefully dipping the egg in the bowls of dye’ consists of tossing it into the bowl as one would toss a rock into a pond.

We carefully packed the eggs and made the trip to Grandma’s house. Within 12 hours of arrival, I sprained my ankle while kickboxing with Anita. That, in turn, prompted a trip to urgent care (and may I kindly point out that many of the Springfield urgent care centers aren’t even open on Saturdays? I mean, DUH, the whole point of urgent care is that it’s URGENT, hello). X-rays revealed only a sprain, a doozy of a sprain according to the doc, but just a sprain. I’m so grateful.

We had egg hunts – everyone else watched but I desperately needed a shower after kickboxing and then sitting in urgent care, so I left Greg with the camera and severe instructions to take lots of photos:

Laurel surveying Ethan with egg

Laurel hunting

The weather was gorgeous so we had grilled burgers and beer and cake, and lo, on Sunday morning the Easter Bunny came for a visit so of course we had chocolate (lots of chocolate!). Not that there was any shortage of sugar that weekend anyway:

hopped up on sugar

So we all had a great time – including me, busted ankle and all. 

How to Run the BoneBlog Household, Part One.

Entertainment:

Install an underground dog fence. Routinely release the dog whenever someone walks by just to see them shrink away when the dog charges them.  Cackle in delight.

Spring Yard Work:

Ignore everything in the fall. Let the beds lie fallow until spring. One morning, work yourself into a frenzy, rip all the dead flowers out of the flowerbeds and throw them in the yard. This is most effective if the neighbors are watching. Rake all the leaves left over from the fall out of flowerbeds and corners into the yard. Curse the leaves because you have no trees. These are all neighboring leaves.

Once all the leaves are in the yard, frighten the field mice out of the lawn tractor and, using a mulching blade, drive back and forth over the leaves. Cackle in delight.