1 Down, 179 to Go!

Happy dance time guys: We started school. And it went... actually? Kind of awesome.

The kids were like, ON POINT with the whole get your chores done so you can eat delicious french toast for breakfast thing, and we actually got breakfast finished, dressing done and pictures taken, in LESS time than I had planned. That was a MAGNIFICENT first. And so we started early. And we did Bible and Math and Latin and Reading and Playing Outside and Journaling and Drawing and Reading some more. In truth it was a smallish day, but it was fun, it was not overwhelming. It was something I'm willing to try again tomorrow.

Side note: I know you saw that and you were like WHAT??, but Latin was the most fun thing we did all day. Latin was a blast. I've told them we can call it our family's secret language, so no one in the world actually speaks Latin. Except for us. Salve discipuli. 

Shout out to little man for starting Kinder!

And really, it was a massive blessing that it wasn't too rough or too long, for a couple of reasons. One, because after all the roughness we have recently been through, this was... a glass of ice water in the desert. This soothed my weary-mama soul. But also, because at about half way through the day, I happened to go back into my closet to look for some number lines (which I completely forgot about until this exact moment right now) only to discover that my cat had peed in our closet. But not just peed. Peed. Actual. Blood.

So we decided it was necessary to add in some... Science. That's right. Homeschooler Science to our day.

I mean, because this is how homeschool works, right? You just roll with it, and then make everything a learning experience. So for today's bonus vet visit, (aka, science lesson) we learned:

1. The signs, symptoms, diagnosis, and various treatments of kidney stones in cats.
2. Fun things an ultrasound is used for.
3. How to get a urine sample from a cat.*
4. How much mom is ACTUALLY willing to pay to fix the cat, even though she had officially landed on ZERO DOLLARS AND ZERO CENTS IT'S A CAT OMG LET IT DIE IF IT NEEDS TO DIE.
5. How to tell when a vet is judging you and all your life choices such as see above.
6. How to administer a rectal thermometer in a feline.
7. How to drive mom insane in like, this whole new location.**

Okay so quick note here before I let you all go back to your regularly scheduled programming. Last time I tried to clip my cat's fracking toenails I walked away with a bloody stump for a hand. But today this strange woman walks up, lifts my cat's tail, and shoves a lubed thermometer straight up her anus and the cat just lies there DOESN'T EVEN BAT AN EYE. What even is this? My cat is a ferocious tiger beast who feels it is necessary to attack my legs while I walk from bathroom to bed every night, and now she's like, just gonna lie there without a care in the room and let people shove any old thing into her butthole. This cat has now been downgraded. She is no longer ferocious tiger beast. She is now creepy psycho lunatic.

So we're home from our sciencing, and it's time for.... more science, in that we are making our own pizzas tonight. Maybe we'll talk about chemistry. Maybe we'll work in some fractions.

Then again, maybe we'll just eat the dang pizza and call it a day.

*Think about it. I found it both surprising and logical!
**The secretary said "Well... at least they get along!". Like, obviously they get along. They pretty much ALWAYS get along. And then theyy use that "get along-ness" to join in collusion and slowly kill their mother. It's this cute thing they do.

Twas the Night Before Homeschool...

Well that's it, my friends. Our 3 plus months of summer has finally come to an end. Sayonara summer. Raise a marshmallow and toast with us.

As it turns out, diligent readers of this site will notice that TODAY was actually the S'posed To Be First Day of School. But there was this thing where... complications. Like, we had some friends that wanted to join us for a day trip to the Sequoias, which sounded awesome, so we postponed, then those same friends got some sickness in them, aaaand whatever we just decided to still postpone anyway.

Pretty sure it was the most homeschool-y homeschool thing we've ever done. First day of school? Meh. Fuhgetaboutit. More like, try again tomorrow, amiright? HA.

Goodness gracious...

So we took a One More Day of Summer, and it was needed I think. Because Monday was a super hard, super stressful kick ya in the pants kind of day, and that was not how this summer was gonna go down. Instead today, the kids knocked out a few chores, played some video games, hung out at the neighbors house (which was the exact perfect life solution I needed to get some of my "real" work done, thank you so much neighbor friends). And we had tumbling class. Hung out at McDonald's for a soda. And we stayed up a little too late to eat marshmallows in the back yard. It was good. It was a fabulous little send off.

And tomorrow, it's Game Time. But guys, for honesty's sake, my head is a little bit spinning. Ya see, I had this plan for how this upcoming year was going to go. I got the books, and the world's largest day planner, and I've reviewed last years mistakes, and I'm ready to go. My kids are gonna learn this year. Like SUPER learn. 

And then last week, we had this 24 hour long stint of refusal and tantrum. Over a 15 minute long reading worksheet. 24 hours of screaming and yelling and sitting on the floor spitting darts from her eyeballs. It was one of those particular kind of rough days that leave me feeling like, well, a failure. Like we're 2 whole years into this adoption story, and somehow we're in the same place we were when we first started. She was broken. I was broken. And I just couldn't imagine starting into another year.

I sought help. I sought advice. And I got advice. I got some stuff I've already tried, some stuff I should try, and some stuff that was just, well, pointlessly rude. But the thing that stood out to me the most was this:

Attachment first. 

Academics will come. 

Meaning? Well, family first. Heart of the child first. Bonding first. Because yes, Math is important, History is important, Reading is important... but if I don't have her heart, if I don't have her trust, if I can teach her to add, but forfeit her soul, then what, exactly, have I gained?

So we're starting homeschool again tomorrow. And I'm taking that last bit of advice, so once again, we're playing it by ear. I don't know what the year will look like, but I'm going to do my best to make it safe. And loving. And fun. And occasionally, maybe even academic. And ya know what? I'm still going to try my dangdest to use that giant planner. 

When SUPRISE! You find out you're a total hottie.

This is the story of how an after work trip to the grocery store last night ended up being a Bizarre Ego Boost. And then how coming home changed all that.

Now for perspective, one of my last Bizarre Ego Boost was about 4 years ago, when, while working on a high school campus, I got regularly yelled at by faculty. Because they couldn't tell I was a professional adult human. Because they thought I was a high school student, being a place or doing a thing (like trying to walk to my car) where a student should not be or that a student should not do. Side note: High school students get very yelled at if they ever choose to be a place they should not be or do a thing they should not do. It's kind of a problem. Maybe we should stop being so mean to high school students.

Anyway, back to last night. While I was minding my own business, listening to podcasts and filling my shopping cart with various healthy low-carb meals and various, unhealthy high-carb snacks*, I walked near a grocery store employee. Now I've seen him around before, due to I am the Grocery Shopper of the family, and I don't really vary my stores or times of visit. I know the employees who work the Sunday afternoon and Monday late night shifts. And he is one of them. But instead of our normal "Finding everything okay" "Sure you betcha" interaction, he decided to, I guess.... kind of flirt with me? 

Yeah. I think he was flirting with me. But not in that "hey baby, you tired? cuz you been running through my mind ALL day!" creepy way like in the movies.  More like, by letting me know that if I needed anything, anything, all I had to do was ask. Feel free to ask him. If I needed anything. Just ask. Ask him. If I needed anything. Just ask. He would help. Ya know, if I needed anything. All I had to do was ask. Then he started to walk away, and then walked back and introduced himself, and shook my hand and again, assured me that, if I needed anything... I should just ask him.

Then later as I was headed to the checkout, he approached me again. He apologized for his behavior. Said he was just trying to be nice. That he isn't weird. Just trying to be helpful. And if I ever needed anything... you got it.

I'm not sure how this kid, who is more likely than not about 10 years my junior, missed noticing my wedding ring, my crows feet, or the fact that, once a week, I buy enough groceries to feed a small army. But just the same, this pushing-middle-age mother of four was just a little bit flattered. Because the last time someone got so flustered in my presence was... well, it was probably just one of my children when trying to lie about having cleaned their room. And their horrible attempts at lying are really more insulting than anything else.

So I got home and told the story to my husband while we unloaded the groceries. Thought I'd make him jealous. Thought I'd remind him what a hot commodity his little wifey actually is. And his response? He felt bad for the little creeper trying to move in on his territory. "Well that just makes me sad!" He says. "He finally gets the courage up to approach you, and then he KNOWS it goes bad. Poor guy. That's just terrible."

Wait. I'm sorry. Pretty sure my very own actual husband isn't supposed to make ME feel like the villain here. I mean, I was nice. I smiled, I thanked him. In fact, I smiled and thanked him and assured him I would definitely come looking for him if there was anything at all that I needed, and I did that every single time he offered to help me. Which at some point, was definitely awkward to do because he offered it so very many times. Geez, Husband. Next time I'll just flirt back. Make sure it goes better for the kid and he doesn't feel so awkward. WOULD THAT MAKE YOU HAPPY?? 

ALSO super hot.

Husband then turns to me with something in his hand. "So," he says, "I'm guessing he didn't see this in your cart before he tried to make his move?" He tossed me brand now Dental Guard. 

Thanks a lot, Dear. 

Psh. Who does he think he is, and why is he
trying to get all these hot new skills??
I mean HE ALREADY GOT ME.

It seems someone's feeling a little cocky these days, seeing as he has been learning to play the guitar, which admittedly is pretty hot, and I, as it turns out, need to wear a protective mouthguard while I sleep. Which I argue is probably just as hot, just not in such a painfully obvious way. 

Shecshy Mama gonna haunt your dreams.

Because seriously? The guitar thing is like, played. "Oooh, attractive guy plays the guitar and suddenly everyone swoons." But what you haven't seen is THIS: 



Harried 30-something mother of 4 who has recently developed TMJ gets flirted with by rando attractive stock boy, realizes she has become "Cougar", starts growling and making claw hands at strangers. 

Now that's a story.





*For the kids. Don't judge me.

Boy Mom Post: When the bathroom smell makes you want to end it all.

Okay, this is like, insanely embarrassing and I should definitely not be telling you this. But I don't even know what to do with my life anymore. It's so bad, in fact, that I spelled like 3 words wrong in the first sentence because my brain won't even let me type this. I'm over come. I'm over whelmed. I'm over stunk.

It's the bathroom. Obviously, you got that already. But guys, it's my bathroom. In my home. My precious, precious home, the first place I bought with my husband, that we lovingly watched transform from an empty patch of dirt into our cozy little love nest. The place we have adjusted to fit 4 additional little persons. The place that is my comfort and my sanctuary.

Except for now, wherein it has suddenly become my personal hell.

Now y'all know that I'm not a tidy or well organized person. I feel you can tell when you meet me. Like you saw a NOT A TIDY ADULT PERSON sign on my forehead. Or maybe you just noticed my unzipped purse, overflowing with crumpled receipts dating back to the creation of stonehenge. 

Either way, y'all know I'm not a tidy person. And mostly, I feel like I can handle it. I mean, 4 kids in a small house is going to mean lots of clutter and toys and dishes and laundry and... whatever. It's not ideal, but it's my home, and I'm cool with that. 

Unless it stinks.

And right now, it stinks. Like STIIIIIIIIIIIINKS. Stinky stinky stinks.  It's the guest bathroom. Well, the kids bathroom. Like, the one non-Master bathroom. Also, the only bathroom with a bathtub in it.

I am pretty sure the reason for the horrible terrible is that we were dumb enough to think it would be a cool idea to have 2 sons. Who pee standing up. And apparently, couldn't hit the toilet if their little lives depended on it.

Even as I'm typing this guys, I realize I'm lying. I know who did this. My 5-year-old son doesn't even stand up to pee. He thinks that's a suckers game. Because why not sit down? Why not chill out for a bit if you have the opportunity? Like a prince on his throne, he sits to pee.

But his brother doesn't. 

No, his 3-year-old brother stands when he pees. Also, he is the kind of person who thinks it is hilarious to run down the hallway spitting on his siblings. Obviously it's him. I was just trying to pretend for a minute that maybe it wasn't. But it was him. It was totally him. 

So now that I have my culprit, it's time to get on to the problem. The bathroom reeks, just absolutely reeks of stale urine. So I scrubbed it all down. And it stinks. I used a different product, scrubbed it down again. And it stinks. So I hosed down the entire toilet and floor with a pressure washer*. And it stinks. I scrubbed the floor, I scrubbed the tub wall, I scrubbed every nook and cranny I could find on the toilet itself. And it all. Still. Stinks.

I actually got super excited** for a minute when I discovered a crusty stinky layer of dried up urine in that little space behind the toilet seat, under the tank. I thought I found it. I scrubbed it out. And scrubbed. And scrubbed.

And it. STILL. STINKS.

I'm at my whits end, my friends. What comes next? Do we just... throw the toilet out and start all over? Burn the house down? Are there any other options??? What is HAPPENING?? AND WHERE IS THAT PEE SMELL HIDING?!?

It's horrible guys. And I need your help. For one, no one can be expected to live like this. But two, I am a person who likes to deal with my stress-feelings by reading a good book in a hot bath. It's my thing. Whatever. But as I mentioned before, the stink-room has the only bathtub in the house. And relaxing in a bath while enjoying the fragrant aroma of Eau-De-Stale PeePee is not actually as relaxing as it sounds. 

So help me guys. For my sanity. And for the safety of my family. Help me kill the Stink.


*Originally intended for washing cloth diapers. Not for out of door activities. Just so we're clear.

**This is what my life has become.

OFFICIAL DECREE FOR EVERYONE TO LISTEN TO AND ABIDE BY: It is the Fall now.

Yep, it's the fall now. I've decided it. Plus the weather is cooling, the days are shortening, it's time for sweaters and boots and scarves and warm drinks. Because it is fall now.

LOL back in real life. Today is August 3st. And here in the armpit of America, it was 105 degrees outside yesterday.* At least, it was 105 degrees at the time when I had scheduled an interview at Starbucks yesterday, then realized that the inside Starbucks was ridiculously packed, but the outside Starbucks, for some strange reason, had only empty tables as far as the eye could see. So that's where I plopped down with my Cold Brew, to wait for the interview to start. NOTE: That kind of heat, plus humidity, or whatever the heck was happening in the horrible out of doors yesterday, well, I can't put it to words. Because I believe we've used up all the outrageous expressions about heat on less outrageous days. Yesterday was like... like... I got out of my car and Satan snuck up and breathed directly into my face. And then he licked me. And then he stayed right there, laughing and breathing and licking for an hour.

So that's I was. Sitting outside, getting licked in the face by Satan. And waiting.

And waiting.

She wasn't late. I was a little early. But fun story? Waiting outside when it "Feels like 109" outside is some of the longest waiting available to the human body. Pretty sure I died for a minute or two there.

So while I waited, I checked the weather because it was the only thing I could think about anymore, only to find out that I was in IMMINENT DANGER OF A SEVERE THUNDERSTORM OMG HOW SHALL WE SURVIVE. It was positively terrifying. Except of course, that the sky looked like this.  




I feel like the good people of Reedley are safe. For now.
Dun dun DUUUN!!

I'm pretty sure I've painted a picture here. You can picture it. It is all kinds of Dantes Inferno level hot. This is where I live. This is my life. But in my brain, the fall is arrived. 

I know it's nuts. And I promised myself this year, I really did, that I wouldn't go all bananas and try to start making fall happen when it wasn't ready to happen yet. But here I am, August thirdst, and fully convinced that it's time for #2 pencils and apple picking and  football and pumpkin spice ridiculousness. 

Also, a week or two ago, I had a dream wherein I came home, only to find that my husband had decorated everything, inside and out, for Halloween. And he was like, the fall is coming! I was like, that's so awesome babe, except that it's July. And he was like... the fall is coming!

Now obviously my subconcious is having a fight with itself. Because my brain is a smart brain and it can understand that the calendar says it's summer and the weather channel says it's the surface of the sun. And ... yeeeeaaaaaah but still. School is starting. Football is starting.** And dream husband is right. Fall is freakin coming, yo.

So I guess what I'm saying here is get it together, calendar and weather. Obviously it's fall time now. No need to keep being a jerk. Go get a Pumpkin Spice Latte and change your dang attitude.

*I do not know what the temperature was today, because I learned my lesson thankyouverymuch, and stayed indoors where it was a comfortable 79 from morning until always.

**Congratulations Cowboys, even if it was utterly inconsequential. 

How do you Plan a Homeschool?

I know this is going to come as a major shock, especially for those of you who saw my recent post about my sweet awesome summer organizational system, but it turns out that I am not, generally or specifically speaking, a "planner".  I know, take a minute and collect yourself up off the floor. I was shocked too. Let's move on now.

The first year we homeschooled, I used one of those all-in-one curriculums, because I was afraid I would miss something and my child's education would be lacking and she'd never get into a good college. Which just feels HILARIOUS now because my daughter was 4 at the time, and our whole job was to read some books and sing some songs and color pictures. But just the same, I was neurotic and I wanted someone else to tell me what to do.

And it wasn't bad! We did My Father's World, which comes with a teacher's manual which is basically an already filled out lesson planner with explicit instructions for different subjects and for each day's work. My daughter loved it. Except when she hated it. Children are complicated. 

Now because I was neurotic and she was my eldest, she had learned most of the math and language arts that they were teaching in that book before we "started homeschooling" (see how stupid that sounds right now?), so we supplemented with our own teaching, while still doing all the too-easy stuff. Because you have to do what the book says you have to do, right? Rule followed. Box checked. Child exacerbated. 

The next year we ditched the all-in-one curriculum, joined Classical Conversations, and then, ::dun dun DUUUUUN!:: life happened.  Basically, I was scrambling. My eldest was on to first grade, and days before we started our school year, our adopted daughter moved in with us. She was just about ready to turn five and so... Kindergarten? PreK? I mean, I dunno. How would I know? As we joined CC, I was questions about my family. They asked if she did better working for me as a tutor or someone else. If she should be in a class with her sister or if it would be better for her to be on her own. What her strengths and weaknesses as a student were. I don't know, I shrugged. I don't know her! I don't know her life! I have no idea whatsoever if I can teach her, and I have no idea what's about to happen to me! Can you hear the panic in my voice now! Because oh man it was definitely there!

So we... went with that, called it Kindergarten and decided on a plan called Go At Your Own Pace. Now THIS I can totally recommend. Because forget you, "grade levels". My kid is learning at the pace she needs. No, thanks, I don't know what grade my kid is in. I have no fracking clue what developmental standard the public school would say she's at. Purple. She's in Purple Grade and she's getting straight Wallabies in all her subjects. Now leave our learning alone.

Side note: I know that sounds straight up bananaramas to those of you who haven't homeschooled. I mean, we need grades, right? We need to know what kids are supposed to know. We need to know if they're acing English and failing math. ... Right?

I definitely thought so before we started homeschooling. Hence my desparation for a "full curriculum". I needed to make sure my daughter learned the right things at the right times and was getting school in the right way.

Then over night, we got a new student. One that came with a therapist and social workers and "Bio Family Visits" three times a week. And food aversions. And work aversions. And me aversions. In short, overnight, God broke my family, and he broke my brain, and he broke any plans and preconceived notions that I was still clinging to.

I had plans. I've had curriculums. I am a person who likes to set goals and likes to make lists. And Truthiness Moment here: I want my kids to be super duper well educated. I wanted them to be impressivly smart. Because one, everyone who likes homeschool touts the fact that they will be. Homeschool is better and thusly, the kids will be smarter. Plus if people doubt all my life choices, like people do, I could always just parade my super genius offsprings in their faces, and that would be the end of that. That was the goal. Those were my plans.

But turns out, my children are people too. And "people" aren't always awesome at living up to their parent's self-agrandizing dreams. In truth, we've had days, DAYS, devoted to the simple learned fact that "if I asked you to write the answer to this question, you will write the answer to this question, even if it means missing lunch time and play time and dinner time and even an appropriate bed time". Because sometimes, that is the important lesson. And the kids learned. We had a math curriculum I tried. And it was good, but it was hard also hard, so the next year, we did all of it over again. And the kids learned. I had a planner last year that I filled with times and schedules and all my dreams for the year. Then I kind of used it for almost a whole month, before it got shoved into the back of my homeschool cupboard to gather dust. We set a plan. We adjust. And we learn.

One thing I want to learn is how to be better at the planning and the organizing. I went to keep better records. I want to set goals and then accomplish those goals. And I desperately want to stick to a planner past the month of August because GEEZ. Remember "epic fail"? Because last year was epic freakin fail.

Instead of just accepting my dumb self as I am, I'm making an effort. I am taking a step towards growth. Toward betterment. Toward being all that I can be except not in the Army because I'm afraid of guns and people and I lack upper body strength.** And I learn.

So yes, I'm making plans. I dropped 15 bucks on this totally out of my league planner, sat down with my curriculum and my calendar, and started to map out our upcoming year.

But how do I plan now, you ask, in my fourth year of homeschooling? Learning all that I have over these past few years? The answer is simple:

In pencil.

*That's how she sounded things out. For about 5 months. Every. Single. Day. For hours. Shout outs to coffee and delusion, you're the only reasons I'm still alive today.
**Shout out to the troops. You are awesome troops.

How to be a total disaster and maybe just a little proud of that fact.

So guys. I don’t know if you realized, but seriously? It’s almost time for Homeschool.

It’s been a summer. It’s been a summer filled with work and family and friends and more work and sickness and eating way more McDonald’s than I had ever imagined possible. It’s been a summer of perseverance and stolen moments of relaxation. It has been a FULL summer. And that is not a bad thing.

But now, Dudes, the summer is like, GONZO.

Truth, this is a very emotional time of year for me. I am anxious to start the next year. I’m not sure I’m going to be good at it. I am anxious about my changed work schedule. I am nervous once again that it will all be too much and I will be too overwhelmed and then I will... I don't know. Start on fire and die, probably. It is stupid. It is also Me in July. 

I’ve sat down, run the dates, and calculated out what I’m hoping for our school year to look like, and based on that, I have us a start date. August 15. 3 weeks from today. Holy buckets, Batman. This is actually happening.

This past weekend, I started pushing myself toward starting to think about schooling again. Yes, I agree. That is a lot of steps, just to get to the thinking part. Thanks for noticing. But this is not because I am lazy and unmotivated, it is because I am very busy and important and have been using my time to work constantly. Also it is because I am lazy and unmotivated. 

I've learned that it is hard sometimes to find my own excitement and motivation. This weekend, I think I found out why:

It’s because I lost them both in this giant pile of postponed responsibility.

That’s right. Somehow, the school cart got itself turned into the dumping ground for all things vaguely academic, plus some other things the kids didn’t want to put away or I didn’t want to deal with. It became the saddest place in the whole world. The homeschool that time forgot. The homeschool that nobody loved. The homeschool that lost its home.

Part of me is embarrassed even to show this. Because it is gross and embarassing, I think. And a part of my husband gently suggested that maybe I could reorganize this pile of crazy a bit before his friend dropped in for a short visit this morning. Which was fair, because that stuff is BANANAS.

But there was this other part of me that kind of… doesn’t hate it. Okay, that’s a total lie. The horrible pile of psychosis-on-a-cart sits right next to our kitchen table, and it’s the first thing you see when walking in through the door. But even while I hated it every day, multiple times a day, it also represented something that was a little bit awesome. I walked by and it said, “Hey Sweet Mama* ,  I am absolutely not your problem right now. You are on vacation. You can walk right past me from early May until late July and just like, chiiiiiiiiill. So dump those books right here. Scatter those dry erase markers wherever you see fit. Let me get all dusty, and ignore those pencil shavings. You just kick those feet up, you beautiful piece of not-a-teacher-today. Yes, they're still your monkeys, but this is so not your circus."

Of course, there are some homeschool parents out there who don't let their furniture talk to them like that, even if the furniture was first intended to serve booze. Along the same lines, there are homeschool families that start later than we do. Or earlier. Or basically “do school every day”. Or basically “don’t do school any day because it’s called real life, and wake up Sheeple.”

SIDE NOTE: Obviously, I really still don’t understand the whole “unschooling” movement. Right this very moment, one of my daughters is watching videos of other people playing Minecraft, another is wearing a necklace for a belt and swinging the end around like an old timey cop’s billy club. My older son is hitting everything he can see with a pretend invisible light saber, and our youngest is walking around with a yo-yo dragging from his butt. He says he’s a puppy. So…. is this it? Is this unschooling? I mean, it’s not school, so… yes then? Because I honestly fear for their future.

Anyway, as I was saying, the homeschooling families of the world all have their own ways of, ehem, "doing school". For me, I've learned that I really need a couple those sweet summer months where the school switch is firmly in the off position. Where no curriculum is discussed, no schedules are organized, and the homeschool wine cart becomes a terrifying tower of Tomorrow's Problem. But that's me.  Unfortunately, due to some combination of Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Generalized Being a Woman Slash Mother in 2017 Disorder, I tend to believe everyone else's choices prove they're better than me. Like they've figured out something I'm still too dense for. But that is the fabulous and weird grace of this grand edumacation experiment: We're all trying. We all make good choices. Plus some bad ones. But because we are there, because we're invested, and because we love them, our kids all end up learning something important in the end. 

Even, if that thing is how to drag a yo-yo from your butt cheeks.

OH YEAH. Also? I did organize today. Pretty much, I'm a superhero. 

Watch out, August 15. I'm comin' for you. 

*It’s not my fault. That’s what our homeschool calls me. It likes to get fresh sometimes. Maybe it’s because it was technically created to be a wine cart. I dunno.