Doomsday Looms

Tomorrow, I start homeschooling.  While I have a myriad of perfectly good reasons to back up my homeschooling decision, the 90% of me that's non-rational is slightly frightened.

I'm not so good with the unknown.  Or failure.  Or, let's face it, a positive outlook.

I hope I can get Jedi-8 to pay attention and Jedi-10 to be challenged.  As for Jedi-5, I just hope I don't forget to teach him something . . . especially with reliable, 'ole cranky-pants Jedi-0 in the mix.

I hope we make it through that all-important first day, no worse for the wear.

Mostly, I hope I remember to enjoy my boys.  They grow up way too fast.

OverRated

Sometimes I think vacations are overrated.  When you're getting close to the end and you can't remember what day of the week it is or why they call these things vacation, you know it's about time to get back to regular life.

Besides, I miss my drill press.

Woo-Hoo?

I was so excited to see that this blog and our other two projects (a-robot-a-day.blogspot.com and a-baseball-a-day.blogspot.com) each had a new "follower."  I mean, I'm now broadcasting to 10 whole people from this blog alone!!

Then I clicked on the followers and saw it was my mom.

Thanks, Mom.  Though it's a little like having you tell me I'm a winner in your book. 

An Offer You Can't Refuse

I would like our Suburban cleaned . . . particularly the inside. 

But I'm not talking minimum-wage-who-really-cares-"full-service"-carwash-clean.  I want it seriously clean.

Like if-a-mob-boss-had-whacked-a-guy-in-the-car-and-told-his-flunkies-they-had-to-clean-it-so-well-that-CSI-techs-wouldn't-find-even-the-slightest-trace-of-DNA-or-they-would-be-the-next-ones-whacked.

That kind of clean.

This Week's Sign of the Apocolypse

This is a REAL product being sold so your baby/toddler can watch an ipad or tablet while in the stroller.

A Change is Gonna Come

There's lots of rearranging going on in my house right now.  It's revealed a whole lot of dirt (and piles of dog hair).

-I live in filth.-

The first project was trying to set up a "School Room" to accommodate my admittedly-crazy idea of homeschooling three of my boys this year.  That, of course, involved buying a new kitchen table.  (Because . . . we're a freakin' family of 6 now.  So unless I automatically send 1-2 kids to bed without supper when we have guests over, we're plumb-outta room.)

Problem is, I'm not much of a decision-maker.  I like to think endlessly about a single decision, waffle back and forth for a while, then make a snap judgment out of complete frustration.

Frustration got the best of me last week.  I gave up waiting for the perfect secondhand table and just averted my eyes when I handed over my credit card at World Market.

Now my computer desk is moved (creating a small igloo of coolness under the desk where the vent is trapped), a bookcase has been relocated from my bedroom, and the old kitchen table is a school table.

My dad/hero assembled the new table this afternoon, while the benches and chairs await my husband tonight.

Upon reflection, I don't think I'm going to allow the boys to eat at the new table . . . ever.  It's much too nice.

And I think I may hang a little curtain from the desk so I can hide from the boys in the igloo.  Shhhhh.

It's Never Too Early for a Drill Press

I was perusing toys for my nine-month-old Jedi and found this:

In what world, do parents want to buy their kid a toy that sucks up balls and then shoots them out at unsuspecting siblings? 

I did, however, come across this:

Why, yes--yes, that is a drill press!

If it didn't look quite so obnoxious and didn't obviously produce endless annoying sounds, I would almost consider getting it.  It is a drill press after all.