kids


While having a conversation with a friend about the possibilities of kids (and comparing them to animals), I managed to come up with this quip:

Cats are like teenagers. They only pay attention to you when they want something

🙂

Advertisements

This is pretty funny!

Don’t speak toddler? Here’s what they’re saying:

“Oh please, you can’t expect her to know how to run a country just because her husband did.”

“Excuse me? In addition to being former first lady, she had performed admirably as New York senator.”

“That’s debatable.”

“So is Obama’s experience level. Not to mention the question of his patriotism.”

“Oh don’t bring up this Reverend Wright crap again. If every politician were held responsible for the words of his associates…”

“Or her associates…”

“They wouldn’t…”

“This was not an associate. This was his pastor!”

“Right! This was his pastor! Not him! Not his words! You want to talk about personal accountability? How about all the ‘misremembered’ stories Shrill is spreading around the campaign trail?”

“Oh, and you have a perfect memory?”

“I’m not running for President!”

“Well, Bush did and look what happened.”

“Why are you bringing Bush into this? I didn’t vote for Bush. I wasn’t even born yet!”

“My point is, it’s time for men to stand aside and let a woman show America how it’s done.”

“Then why aren’t you bashing McCain too? He’s a man. You know why? Because he’s white!”

“Oh, please!”

“He’s white, and Barack is black, and you’re a racist!”

“Well, you’re a chauvinist!”

“At least my candidate didn’t cry on the campaign trail!”

“Well, at least my candidates middle name isn’t Hussein!”

“Oh, you did not just go there!”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. That was low.”

“Look, let’s just come together and stop fighting. Otherwise McCain will win.”

“McCain! Yes!”


Davik's Heart

http://lang.presstelegram.com/flash/cambodia/images/title.jpg

I COULD SCREAM!!!!!! I gave birth to a bunch of heatherns I tell ya. I can make 10 kids of various ages behave and get along, but I can’t get my two to NOT FIGHT for the time I am in the shower. I swear he waited till I was in the shower. Joy was still sleeping peacefully (yah in my room). Two nights ago, when Josh wasn’t here and she was just being more than I could handle intelligently … she spilled water in her bed. I told her to sleep on her floor or in Josh’s room since he wasn’t here. She chose Josh’s room (she wanted to sleep in a bed). I got her up and dressed the next morning and totally forgot about her jammies and (wet) pullup that I left in his room. So this morning, after not sleeping in his bed for like the 2nd week he decides that he wants to sleep in his bed. And freaks out cuz her blankie, jammies, and said pullup are there. So what does he do? What does he do???? Wakes her up, Calls her names, orders her to get her stuff out of his room. I only know this because for some reason my alarm is going off and both kids are screaming. Which one is old enough to know better? BEATS THE HELL OUT OF ME! I am so mad at him right now!!! Told him over and over if he has a problem with his sister to come to me or Tim because he just orders her around, doesn’t even treat her with the common respect and courtesy that I taught the both of them to have for ALL kids (working on adults, she picks up so many of his bad habits).

Crap, gotta rush. At least it’s Friday, and the kids aren’t screaming anymore.

I was looking for the forward about women needing wives … because I really needed one tonight. Came across this instead

Why I Need a Wife
(Jane Schlosser)

In a perfect world, every woman would have a wife. Unfortunately, there is no such world, but I still need a wife. I have asked for a wife for years. Every time my family says, “What do you want for your birthday: Mother’s Day, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, or Easter.”

I smile and respond, “A wife.”

They smile sweetly and respond, “No, really, Mom. What do you want?”

I do not understand why they will not believe me. I am very serious. “I want a wife!”

I want someone who will sort, wash, fold and put away the laundry, so I can pretend these things magically appear in their proper place on a weekly basis. If she could mend and iron, that would be even better.

One Christmas, I included my own letter to Santa along with the children’s letters. It was not a long letter, only one request, but he did not answer. I am not sure if Santa thought it was a joke or he forwarded it and my request was lost in transit.

My letter read: “Dear Santa, All I want for Christmas is a wife. I have tried to be good, and I could sure use the help. Thank You, Jayne. P.S. If you cannot help me, please, forward my letter to Cupid, the Easter Bunny, or my husband.

Nothing! That was the Christmas when I could have used a wife to take care of all the baking, decorating, grocery shopping, help with towels, and changing sheets because we had non-stop company from Thanksgiving through mid-January. Even the dogs were beginning to get confused as to who lived in the house.

[snip]
I think the terms “stay at home” and “non-working” when attached to the noun Mom should be outlawed. It has been my personal experience that being a “stay at home, non-working” mom means I’m never at home, and I never have time to get anything done. I need a wife so the cleaning, cooking, and laundry get done while I run around helping, supporting, volunteering, and supervising the various groups, activities, events, and children who need me because, “You have free time since you don’t work, and you don’t have anything important to do.”

Another thing I detest is filling out forms, because I do not know what to put in the “occupation” box. “Mom” or “wife” gets the response, “That’s not a job. What do you do?”

Once I unclench my jaw, I start to explain what I do, and these people say, “I see. You’re a housewife.”

I really hate that word. I do not recall marrying a house. I am sure I would remember that, especially as I hate doing housework. If I complain about that term, they smile indulgently and say, “We will put down domestic engineer.”

What is that? An engineer is a highly paid technical job. What kind of education do you get to be a domestic engineer? Are there foreign engineers or undomesticated engineers, and what kind of degree do you look for when you want to study to become these engineers? Do people really think putting domestic engineer on the occupation line makes up for the lack of respect being a stay at home mom gets in society? If you are going to call me a domestic engineer, I want the salary an engineer gets, because my current salary really stinks.

I have finally solved the problem of the occupation line on school forms. I write “slave.” Then, under hours, I put “24 hours a day, 365 days a year, on call at all times, no vacation.”

My daughter read her form and told me, “But Mom, you’re not a slave. You are more like a maid.”

I patiently explained that a maid gets a salary, has regular working hours, and gets not only time off but also gets vacations, has opportunities for pay raises and can change jobs, if things are not satisfactory at the current position. After my explanation, her younger brother looked at his form and then told his sister, “No. Mom’s right. She is a slave.”
[snip]

Get home just after 5 to see Josh and friend playing video games. Josh asks “Mom, why are you home so soon?” I tell him it’s just after 5. He thinks it’s not that late. Joy wants to ride her bike and have Zoe with her. This doesn’t quite work out. I go through mail and call a friend to thank him for a gift. It made it here in record time. I walk Zoe while talking with friend and watching Joy ride bike. About 6 (while still talking to friend, it’s been quite a few months since we’ve talked) I go into house and start prepping the dishes. SAVE ME FROM 13-YR-OLD INNUENDO!!!!!! I finally kick all the kids out (Josh’s friend Nick arrives for a sleep over. Josh got me when I was only half-way paying attention and asked for a sleepover. What was I thinking???? I work tomorrow!). OK, so where was I?

6:15-8:00PM dishes
6:30-7:15 – kick all kids and dogs out and tell them to come back at 7:15, dinner should be ready.
sometime between 6:45 and 7:00 – phone dies totally and completely and I don’t feel safe charging it near the sink. Shoot off quick email to friend to explain what happened.
7:13 – kids return early. Josh sets table and kids eat (3 teenagers and one kinder) while I continue doing dishes.
sometime around 7:30 – kids finish eating and I do their dishes (again? more? I’ve lost track)
8:00-8:05 – I finally eat dinner and register a new postcard while the kids play video games and argue (I want more why????)
8:08PM Joy states: “No, instead of bath I’ll talk to dad”

I am ready to collapse!

And it’s not over yet. I still have to get Joy ready for bed. She REALLY needs a bath, but I think I will skip it. (yeah, yeah, I know, I’m a pushover)

I am actually tired of vacuuming. And I like vacuuming, usually. And I am about to beat my daughter. I wonder how my parents convinced me to clean my room? I wonder if I was ever as openly defiant as my daughter? The few times I remember even attempting her current attitude and behavior I had to go cut my own peach switch. And that was all it took. My mom always said I was a fast-learner.