A little parent truth and humor to get you through your Monday. I love weekends home with the kids, but by Monday morning, I am ready for adult time. Love them!
A little parent truth and humor to get you through your Monday. I love weekends home with the kids, but by Monday morning, I am ready for adult time. Love them!
I’m talking to you road runners. No not
You, who run in the road every morning with a quarter-size flashing light, I am talking to you. Gladly I share the road, moving over to allow you ample space to jog merrily along. However, your little, poorly placed pin light gets lost in your huffing, puffing, thrashing run. So imagine me traveling at 50 mph on a poorly lit road and suddenly my headlights spot you. Do not get mad at me if I cannot scoot over. Perhaps investing in a reflector vest or better night-lighting is in order.
If not, the sidewalk, less than 10 feet away, is pothole, debris free. Try using it. In the early morning hours, be seen or hit the pavement, sidewalk style.
My new Jawbone UP records my daily movement, whether physical or REM. Each day I am increasingly interested in my daily step log. One morning I sported heels as I completed our daily routine. By the time I slid into the car for my morning commute, my feet ached and moaned, clearly not used to a heel-laden marathon. Upon arriving at school, I uploaded my bracelet data. 3047 steps. That is nearly a third of my daily recommended amount. Sweet! So repeatedly running up and down stairs, making breakfast, and throwing the ball for the dog gives me a parental workout.
What did I learn? Our 40 minute morning routine is a mad dash.
1+1=2
an apple + an apple = a pair of apples
an orange + an apple = a duo of fruit
man + woman = marriage
man + man = marriage
woman + woman = marriage
No matter how you add it, with love, one and one is two.
Reblogged from the book of alice:
"It doesn't matter how tall you are or short you are or big you are. It doesn't matter if you have long hair, if you have short hair. It doesn't matter how much ear wax you have. It matters if you're NICE! So, if Jameson is the first person who was nice to me, so he was my first friend."
Potty talk surrounds me. It is not my thing. And I am not talking about my 2 year old trying to call my older son a “poopy head”.
Cell phones in the restrooms. Disgusting, gross, and yucky! Answering phones while laying down track, doing their duty, or dropping a load, no, NO, NO! A phone, a toilet, yuck. Sure, wash your hands, but what about sanitizing the phone?!
What about the person on the other end? Is she digging the fact that she can hear the plops, flushes, or grunts of her friend or neighboring toilet seaters? I do not enjoy listening to telecommunicating flushing, yes I can hear it. Everyone can.
Let’s regain some phone etiquette. Or simpler yet, join together to ban pupu phones. Next time, a person answers a phone midstream; holler, scream, aggressively grunt until the windbag gives in and hangs up. That would be fun.
I have never fancied myself a hand talker. Last weekend, while dining with friends, a waitress approached me wondering if I was attempting to flag her down via sign language. Nope, just animated me. However it caused me to think. I am hearing impaired yet can only fumble my ABC’s. Here was another young, much younger than I, lady with a hearing impairment, without hearing aids, teaching herself lipreading and taking sign language courses. Hmmm. Recently my hearing was reevaluated. Epic failure. Since my Latvian is elementary at best, perhaps my phalanges are better communicators. I do need to take a few graduate classes…and I am losing my hearing…