LIST

1. My dog runs like a Spring Buck. He may have some identity issues.

This is Bruce aka Devil Dog with a fine set of antlers

2. Heads up to well-meaning people: if all it took to cure nasty prolonged pregnancy nausea was saltine crackers and flat coke don’t you think I would have stuck with it?



3. Don’t tell me I look good when I tell you I feel like crap. I don’t know if it’s a compliment or a back-handed way to tell me that I must not really feel as bad as I say. Either way, leave it off.



4. My child likes to “fake sleep in the backseat” so she’ll get a free ride into the AC. Smart kid. She’ll go far in the world of politics. Vote Simi in the 2050 election, she’ll blow you away with her foreign policy.

Simi Loo

5. My husband started a blog. It’s way less caustic than mine. You might like it. It will completely cement your belief in opposites attract. www.benthankful.wordpress.com



6. Pregnancy is a lot like puberty, allow me to explain:



Weird things happen super fast and you aren’t sure if you are happy about it. And, what’s worse, other people notice and stare. It makes me very self-conscious.



Same rule applies as puberty: LOOK ME IN THE EYE and don’t steal a glance, you creep. No, you can’t touch.



7. Dear Facebook Users,



You sound to good to be true. Everything goes so well in your world?! What am I doing wrong that I have bad days and you never do?



What’s up with that,



E



8. Dear Rosetta Stone Epanol (Spain),



Let’s run away together. I think we can make this work.



Quiero mi Espanol.



E



9. I feel a lot like Snow Bear (aka Beelzebub bunny) because I ate way toooo much chocolate cake for Eagle’s birthday. I fear I am getting the dreaded Snow Bear Triple, triple chins that is.

Snow Bear in her slimmer days

10. My eldest turned 10 on Wednesday. How can that be? I whined about it to the poor lady behind me in the Target check out line. I strategically waited until all her items were on the conveyor belt and she couldn’t get away from me.



11. My eldest is fairly certain he is Davy Crockett reincarnated. This isn’t good for my psyche.

Eagle in 15 years

Send help.



Over and out.

I've never wanted a beer more in my life than I do right now

Let me catch you up on my past 3 months of life on the edge of my couch…..




barf.



Dear HCG,



I hate you. I hope you rot in hell. We will never be friends. You try to ruin my life every time. Nice try, you almost got me.



Sincerely pissed off (sorry Grandma I know you hate that word),



Me



So it is good news: more children. The baggage: feeling like poo for 4 months. It’s really hard to like someone who makes your life miserable. But I felt this way about my first 2 and it turned out alright.



In other news,



1. My husband (I call him other names right now too) is in Africa saving the continent from financial ruin.



2. I can’t get this song out of my head.

3. It’s nearly the 4th of July, my all time favorite holiday. It meets all my requirements for a rocking good time: (1) blazing hot (2) it is appropriate to wear a bikini (3) massive explosives



Happy quatro de Julio have a beer for me….

What am i talking about

Here’s whats going on in my world:

1. My eldest has ruined his life’s contentment with this book:

This piece of literature has provoked the desperate desire of:

a buckskin suit

a birch bark canoe

a falcon named Frightful and an overwhelming desire to leave home. I am doubting my love of literacy for children.



And, have you any idea what a buckskin suit would run you? Of course not, you are normal well-adjusted, non-homeshooling parent. But in case you are curious eBay is asking a scandalously large sum. I (the Vegan) am considering encouraging a homeschool summer unit study entitled, “How To Make Your Own Homemade Bambi Suit” or a different unit study called, “Things Grandpa Bought Me On Our Trip West This Summer” instead.



2. The leaves are on the trees and the temps are above 60. I am a happy girl.



3. Confession: I have a cat I call, “My Husband” or “Life-Partner” mostly because it irritates my children. My son’s friend is threatening to make a coonskin cap out of My Husband’s hide. I’m not impressed.

4. I am blogging as a form of procrastination (can’t tell can you?). The laundry pile (aka Mt. Johnson) is single-handedly trying to take me down.

A plethora of nonsense

We started running an all-inclusive resort for horses on vacation at the Johnson Ranch about 2 weeks ago. Think: Club Med complete with over indulging, flirting with the opposite sex and lack of respect for the resort management. Because that’s exactly what we've got going on over here.



It came to a head last night when the horses evidently had an unplanned, unapproved mixer in the pasture. I prefer to run a strict no girl/boy contact facility. I’m catholic like that. The horses (read: rebellious teens) disregarded my no-mixer wishes and were probably smoking in the bathroom too. As with most mixers there was extensive damage to the property that conveys a disrespect of the resort management (that’s me). This morning I spent 2 hours cleaning up after the hung over crowd of ungrateful equine. Which is not how I expected to spend my Tuesday morning.



Now lets talk dermatology. Last week my friends, Tanya and Alex, told me a story about a guy with a massive zit-like mound on his cheek. (it’s really strange the matters that friends are willing to discuss) I’ll have you know I day dreamed about the possibility of popping a monster like that (I should have been a dermatologist). Be careful what you wish for because now I have my very own zit-mountain. I’ll tell you right now the story of the zit is much more thrilling if you are not the subject of the zit story.



Changing subjects



I've been homeschooling for 36 hours straight. With sleep and snack breaks. I don’t know why….nothing else to do really and the kids dig it. My husband expressed his concern for my mental health and gently prodded me to leave the compound (That’s what I am calling our house now. I plan on wearing denim jumpers, braids and read only from the KJV of the bible for the rest of my days. I may even encourage Mr. Johnson to take on a sister-wife).



I gave in to Mr. Johnson’s advice and left the property sans skirt or braids or sister-wife. The outside world is really nice. Who knew? And when did I become my mother? No offense mom you are awesome.



One more thing. My dad is retiring from his 30+ year career as a biologist and my children have been begging for his taxidermy-ed critters that once adorned his office and made countless trips to public schools to educate children. The lot includes a fox with a blank stare and a ripped ear (who is a lot like the Mona Lisa. Everywhere you turn it appears the fox follows your gaze. Very unsettling at 2am on my way to the bathroom), 2 hummingbirds, a barn owl complete with pray in talon, a wood duck, and my personal favorite and woodchuck standing on it’s back legs with 2 tiny t-rex like forelimbs.



Now here is where this story get’s weird…..really, really, really weird. I won’t be offended if you don’t read more of this post. It might be best for your sake and mine.



Listen up brave soul:



My dear friend Melissa gave me a great* idea. She told me to take Simi’s baby teeth and attach them to my new taxidermist home decor. So all the critters would have a creepy grin to go with the glass stares. I like it. I really like it.



*Great is used as a completely subjective term here.



Why?



I don’t know. We are homeschoolers and by definition very strange.



But I thought it was a classic idea…. I should apologize to my dad now. Sorry I am desecrating your beautiful specimens. I love you.

Classy, huh?

Come see me

Come see me at:  Southern Star Elizabeth . I miss you.

See me here

Visit my new blog at WordPress HERE. I think you'll like it

Elizabeth

moving my blog

I'm moving  here .

So if you'd like to read more SouthernStarElizabeth more come on over!

Laters,

Elizabeth

ON my mind

On my mind today:

I really, really would like to try the Brazilian blow out on my hair.

I feel the urge to shank a little punk attending VBS. I already had a heart to heart with him and threatened him but he's the type that needs to be met in a dark alley and I'm just the girl to take him down. PARENTAL CALL TO ACTION: please train your children or I will! This is my theme song when I think of unruly children:


Maybe, just maybe, I am too much discipline and not enough compassion. "Is it possible", ask myself? I don't hear anyone complaining but that might be because they are afraid of my wrath. Who can say? Please advise.

My mom  is way awesome. She's beautiful, patient, funny, wonderful and always agrees with me. I am lucky.

My dad is totally awesome. Really, he's the best parent any child could ask for and he's better than any grandpa on the planet. I should nominate him for the Father or the Year award. I think I shall. I'm already drafting my nomination letter.

I am mourning the loss of my eight year old....He's now 9 and that number disturbs my soul. Half of his life under my roof is over. A good cry is in order bawwwww.wwwww..wwwwww sniff sniff

My children turn into superheroes with high fructose corn syrup. I get a good chuckle watching the other moms gasp and clasp their chest when my kids come into the play room at Chick-Fil-A.

We are unsocialized homeschoolers......insert evil laugh here.

Keith Monday, the weatherman for Channel 9 Eyewitness News has a crush on me.

But it could be he was staring my direction because he wanted me to control my tornado-crazed children.

Who can say, really?

I took great joy watching Devil Dog figure out his new invisible fence line after weeks of him taking advantage of my Christian Patience.
What are you thinking about today?

To Whom is may concern:

Dear Facebook:
    This relationship isn't working for me. I don't like anything about you. You bring me to a dangerous place of wrath. So I'm kicking you to the curb. Don't worry you'll find some other sucker to take my place soon. CBS news tell me you'll have a half billion users by the end of the week. Here's the inside scoop in case you didn't know: they're all just using you.

Dear Car Window Silhouettes:

     You are a hopeless show-off. I don't care if you have 48 children and superior fertility. When I went to elementary school they called this sort of behaviour "bragging". What's your excuse?

Dear La Lorenzo MD Pathology Consultants,

I appreciate your prompt medical billing. Seeing as it's been 91 days since my hospital stay and I received your bill this afternoon for 175.00.

Your check is in the mail.

HA HA

Dear 100 degree heat:

My armpits smell like 2 day old roadkill thanks to you.

Dear High School Nemesis:

Thank you for gaining 20 pounds since high school. I see that 13 years has not dulled your mean-streak or abrasive personality.

See you never,

Your high school 'buddy'

Dear Self:

What the hell is wrong with you? It's been 13 years let the bitterness go.

Dear Sprint:

I just want my phone fixed. I am not tying to rip you off. Well, in the beginning I wasn't, now I am.

Game on.

Dear Starbucks Lady:

Thanks for the advice on the tattoo's with my morning caffeine. I'd never considered those options.

Dear Gay Waiter at PF Chang's:

YOU'RE NOT GAY.

Even though you say you are. I think it a ruse to get numbers.

 Well played.

Dear Babies of the World:

Quit looking at me, smiling, laughing, or doing anything adorable. If possible please force your mother into another check-out lane at Target. Or even better, start throwing temper tantrums, puking in public, screaming and fighting with your siblings. Then I'll get snapped back to reality.

Dear Biological Clock:

Shut up. I know what you want, and I can't do anything about it.

Dear Fellow Homeschooling Moms:

 I just look bad compared to you.

You over achievers.

Dear Statistics:

You make me sick. I am tried on of being on the wrong side. Especially this one:

<2.5 112 42 38%

(if you don't know what this one means...ask)

Dear Freaky Dreams:

Desta Hughes (old high school friend) and Seth Meyers (from SNL) will never be together no matter how much my subconscious tried to tell me they are. And no they don't have a really cute 2 year old and no we didn't go to their mansion for drinks.

Dear Dryer:

Due to your low performance, napping on the job, and trying my Christian patience.

I'm letting you go.

No, I'm not giving you a recommendation.

Dear Son:

That compliment you gave me (the one about me looking like my high school nemesis)  wasn't really a compliment. But I love you too much to be picky about it.

Dear Backache:

Thank you for my fantastic attitude, full range of motion, and superior level of comfort.

I hate you.