Monday, April 23, 2018

Welcome to what Killing It Looks Like!

I took this picture at the grocery store because
I kept looking down and thinking that
you are a VERY stupid looking knee hole. 
Well, I've taken multiple months off of the blog, but turns out, I had to come back. Because guys, I am KILLING IT RIGHT NOW. Okay, so YES, I ripped my pants today, and it was just about my last pants so I'm pretty concerned about the pants. Also, the underwire stabbed through the cloth and spent the day poking me in the right breastical which made a long work day feel like a looooong work day. But the bra is gone, the jeans are gone. But in the interest of the day of Killing It: I ripped my pants in the knee. I did NOT rip my pants in the butt. I cannot, canNOT express the difference in these two experiences. 

Unicornitarianism. It's a science theory pun.
Also Unicorns.
Because 8 year old science nerds need love too.
So, on to the ways I'm KILLING IT RIGHT NOW. First off: KILLING IT AT PARENTING. My 8 year old just completed Classical Conversations Memory Master. And you probably don't know what that means but if you do you know that it means you know that it is INTENSE, and I personally believe that the parents of these children are amazing child-producing super-geniuses. Obviously that seems a little self serving. And I've decided I'm okay with it.

Now, last day of CC done for the year (Straight up nailed it thankyouverymuch) and on to KILLING IT AT WORK. Training a new staff with a super high energy, jump-off-the-furniture-just-to-see-how-you-respond, fabulous little boy went GREAT. Great, wherein he started the day throwing his soiled pull-up around the room like it was a set of Marti Gras beads, then biting me in the upper thigh slash lower derrière, and ended the day quietly following directions and sitting comfortably in my lap, asking me to squeeze his hands and feet. And basically, I'm sorry, but getting to be an Autism Whisperer, even if it's only for 5 minutes that one time back in 'Nam, will make you feel like a straight up superhero. And tonight, I am a straight up superhero.

So then school is done, work is done, and I'm on to grocery shopping. KILLING IT AT GROCERY SHOPPING. Which doesn't take a lot. I chose the groceries and then paid for the groceries then packed them in my bags and brought them home. But what do you want, man? It's just groceries. Chill. But then RIGHT when I pull up to the house, Eye of the Tiger shows up on my itunes shuffle and dang it all I've never unloaded groceries in a more butt-kicking fashion. In other words, KILLING IT at unloading the car. KILLING IT at stocking the fridge.

Then, THEN, I go to open the mail, and I see what looks like a check from the county. Now, as a mother of a foster-adopted child, I am familiar with the look of Checks from the County, but this is not the normal time for Checks from the County, plus also I notice the word "Auditor" in the return address and my brain goes straight Ackabar* in less than 12 parsecs. But then I thought, what the heck, you can't hurt me today, on this the day of KILLING IT, so I opened it. And ya know what? It WAS a check from the County. It was the reimbursement check for adoption costs which we submitted a scant 15 months ago. And since we'd long since given up on the idea that the County was going to keep their promise to reimburse our adoption costs (seeing as they promised to do so within 3 months and that passed by over a year ago), we basically just got a free exciting bonus check. And as we've been paying off debt like it's going out a style, I have the perfect place to put it. Namely, in the bottomless pit I dug going to college on debt in the first place. But still guys. Paying off your debt is DEFINITELY KILLING IT. So boom take that Satan.

Alright folks. I'm off to go spend a little time basking in the vast glory of this day. Killing it, y'all. KILLING. IT.

*If you don't already get that reference, then you think that reference is stupid and you definitely do not appreciate that reference. So I'm not explaining it. Move on with your life.

Thursday, December 7, 2017

To Santa or NOT to Santa...

So as it turns out, Fall kicked my butt, even harder than Summer kicked my butt and a heck ton more than Spring kicked my butt. I love, LOVE Fall, probably because I am a middle class white woman of a certain age, but also because it’s my birthday in the fall and I look GREAT in warm colors and LESS GREAT in a swim suit, plus Football is the only sport worthy of spectatoring so there. It’s super duper more complex than you figured. That being said, I could sure go for a Pumpkin Spice Latte if anyone is offering…

Anyway, the point is that, whatever the reason, I do still really love Fall. Unfortunately it seems Fall has never felt the same way about me.

Whatever. You don’t need to know about my complicated relationships with the seasons. Besides, it’s December and Fall I AM SO TOTALLY OVER YOU ANYWAY. Psh. Now it is Winter Season and I have… a bit of an issue. I’ve been confronted by a problem today that I’ve been anticipating for years, and yet still find myself unprepared for:  My oldest child wants to know if I believe in Santa Claus.

I’m gonna pause here for a second because I know there are some people reading this who think I am a 1-terrible mother and or 2-terrible Christian because we even do the Santa thing in the first place. So for those of you who already offended then… I don’t know. Hashtag Trigger Warning, this post talks about Santa Claus. Supes sorry about it.

So back in early days, when “What should we do about the Fat Man” was just a hypothetical question, Husband and I had lots of real beliefs on the issue. We weighed the options. We considered the long-term psychological implications. And made some hard choices. Namely, we decided that YES we were a Santa Claus family. Because, namely, we thought it was fun.

But in order to Santa appropriately, we decided we needed some ground rules:
  1. Santa is not the main course of the Christmas celebration. He is a tasty side dish and that is all.*
  2. Santa doesn’t give many presents. He throws in a lil’ something extra because MAGIC, but he is not Chief Gift Giver of Christmas.
  3. We will NEVER NOT EVER go out of our way to push the belief in Santa. No reindeer droppings in the lawn. No powdered sugar foot prints on the carpet, and no, NO flick fracking Elf on the Shelf. I hate you, Elf on the Shelf. I find you cheaply made and morally repugnant. And how dare you, how DARE YOU show up out of nowhere just to give my kids a reason to think we aren’t as special as other families. I hate your stupid face, Elf on the Shelf. I hate it. Oh wait but we DO bake and leave out cookies for Santa. Because that tradition is NOT a horrible chore. That tradition means I get to eat cookies. So there.
  4. As much as we can help it, we will never ACTUALLY lie to the children.  We wanted our kids to be able to look back on their childhoods and realize that HOLY COW MOM AND DAD NEVER ACTUALLY SAID SANTA WAS REAL, and let that wash over them like the final scene in Usual Suspects. It’s Keyser Soze sneaking down the chimney this year, kiddos. Now let that blow your mind for a minute.

Our plan was, it’s a yes for Santa, but always with a “nudge nudge, wink wink” that lets them know it’s all kind of a game, and not something to base your worldview on. It was perfect. All the fun, no deception. We were gonna hit the sweet spot.

Well, turns out we failed.  Try again next…. Life.

I’m not sure if our nudges and winks were too subtle, or the culture too strong, or heck maybe our kids just aren’t as smart as we’d hoped, but they have NOT AT ALL clued into the Man the Myth the Legend yet. In fact, eldest child went ahead and decided she saw him last year, (first it was his boot, now it’s also the shadow outline of his face), and she seems to be settling in for a long winter’s belief in Santa.

Which brings us to today.

“Mommy, do YOU believe Santa is real?”
Okay… we knew this was coming, we just… hoped it wouldn’t be so loudly and so in front of all the other kids in the house, just in time to ruin Christmas for everybody.
“Well, what makes you ask that?”
“I just want to know!”
“What do you think about Santa?”

Sum up: she believes. Cuz she saw him and all that. But she has friends who don’t believe, and she’s been arguing with them, and now, she’s starting to think about it.

Now I’ll be honest, her friends thinking she is stupid is not the exact way we were hoping she would clue into our little Christmas game… but how we get there from here is a bit of question.

Should I sit down with her for a “see how it’s really true even though it’s really not true” chat? Should I do that, you’re in on it Secret Santa thing from that viral facebook post? And if I do… do I have to do it before Christmas?

The truth is, I’m looking at my kids right now and I’m thinking, you are growing up so fast. And soon, very soon, too soon, there is stuff to KNOW. There is weird stuff. Disappointing stuff. Straight up depressing stuff. And really, truly terrifying stuff. This world can be dark and scary and hurtful. There are conversations to be had. And only a blessed, beautiful, magical, few moments of childhood. And really? It seems I have no desire whatsoever to end that magic. And why should I? There will be enough time for hard days. There will be enough days filled with hard truth. And today, I find I believe in Santa.

*In case we have any on here who struggle with metaphor, no, we do not EAT Santa. Except if we’re talking sugar cookies meant to look like his face. Because we definitely do that.

Friday, September 8, 2017

How to be socialized. Or something.

As I have been writing about all things homeschool lately, I am sure that you have been waiting, with baited breath of course, for me to bring up the subject of socialization.
Socialization. That 27 letter word* that makes every homeschooler shake in their boots. Or fuzzy pink slippers as many homeschoolers prefer pajamas and they are not wrong for doing so. The socialization question is the single most frequent thing asked of any homeschooler. In fact, when you start on a homeschooling journey, you will learn that suddenly, nobody wants to talk about the weather anymore. Nobody asks about your weekend plans. Nobody wants to chat about the last episode of the Bachelor (which is of course fine because you aren’t allowed to WATCH the Bachelor if you teach your children at home**). What people WANT is to ask you how you intend to socialize your kids. They don’t just want to know. They need to know. Because if they do not know, they will all definitely die. And it will be your fault. Because seriously. How. Do you socialize. These kids.

Now for me, the socialization question is awkward for multiple reasons. Here are just some of them:
  1. HELLO, MY NAME IS ASHLEY, AND I AM NOT A WELL SOCIALIZED HUMAN. I was a public-then-private school kid, myself. I was an avid reader. I was, overall, academically successful. But no one, NO ONE, would ever have accused me of being well socialized. I was consistently afraid of my peers, and very quickly found that books were 1, more friendly, and 2, easier to deal with. Plus, books never make fun of you for reading too many books. But sixth graders do. Oooooh sixth graders do.
  2. THE QUESTION IMPLIES THAT I’M ALREADY FAILING. AND THAT HURTS MY FEELINGS, GUYS. Really though, how exactly does a mama defend herself against this question? Because if you’re looking at my kid and asking how I intend to teach them socialization, well… you’re kind of implying that I’m already failing at it. I mean, this is basically the parenting equivalent of asking someone what they intend to do to fix the house they just now painstakingly repaired. Um nice try, but no. WOW no. All kinds of no.
  3. PLEASE SOMEONE TEACH ME WHAT IT ACTUALLY MEANS TO BE SOCIALIZED BECAUSE HOLY CRAP. So again, maybe this relates back to #1, but I don’t even actually know what you mean by this question. I really don’t. What is socialization, exactly? Is it taking turns? Is it sharing toys? Is it working toward the common good? s it not having a tantrum when you have to wait in line? Is it remember to pick your boogers in a place that no one else can see so you don't spend your life labeled Booger Picker?  Because I feel like it’s not. Because I feel like most parents expect themselves to teach their kids these basic social rules before the kids even enter school.
  4. OK, I LIED. I KNEW EXACTLY WHAT YOU MEANT THE WHOLE TIME. HA. I mean, DUH. Everyone knows what you mean. Cuz the truth is, when you asked how my kids would get socialized, you weren’t thinking about taking turns or sharing or holding a conversation, because all of that is pretty basic and also, pretty not that taught in school. What you mean is, you think my kids will turn out weird. Weird and gross. And a little bit creepy.
Weird parents. Before they were parents.
So that's the issue. We can start there. And truth? Maybe my kids will be weird. I mean, you become what you surround yourself with, right? And for good or for ill, my kids are spending a lot more time with their parents. And as it turns out, their parents are…. well, a little bit weird. My children have a cross to bear, and it is called Weird Parents. Of course they don't know it yet. Which I think is cute. Give 'em a minute.

So yes, maybe our kids will spend too much time with us and that will make them incurably weird. Or maybe they will learn how to wait appropriately because mommy is always busy with 3 other kids. Or they'll learn conflict resolution, because you can't just change siblings every time you have an argument, and Working It Out Or Dying is inevitable. Or maybe they'll learn to stop taking themselves so seriously, because they spend their days getting mocked and teased, not by bullies, but by people they know are only teasing out of love. And they find it's not so scary after all.

Of course, these things are great, but it doesn't mean they won't be weird. But the good news is, they'll probably each end up being their own brand of weird. At this present time, I have four children, and some days, I think the only thing they have in common is geography. Some are shy, some are outgoing. Some prefer to talk to adults while others love hanging out with kids. Some are artsy, some are sportsy. Some like the indoors while some would prefer to live in nature.

And... I don't know how I'm going to socialize all of that. They play. With each other and with other kids, they all seemed to figure out how to play. So maybe they're getting socialized. Maybe they'll be more socialized than anyone could ever have imagined. Or they'll be weird. Of course, I mean it wouldn't kill anybody if we could work out that booger picker thing...


**Obviously that’s a lie. Homeschoolers are allowed to make bad life choices, just like the rest of you.

Saturday, September 2, 2017

Welcome to September, Hombres. Pumpkin Spice it up.

Okay guys. A couple weeks ago, I wrote a slightly ranty, slightly psychotic post about how I don't care what the calendar said or the weather said and that I was excited and ready for the fall.

I mean, I get it. I was going a little crazy. I can admit that. But you have to forgive me now, because it's the law.

Well, turns out I don't have to ignore anything anymore. Because GUYS it is actually September!!!! Squee!! So here ya go, in an officialest of capacities:
I mean, sure, it's 108 degrees outside today but....

Latin Outdoors. Like God intended.
UGH. Okay, forget it. This place is hot and terrible.

So I acknowledge that we're still at the tail end of one of the hottest heatwaves of the entire summer, but as it turns out, I have central air and very few reasons to go into the out of doors, so that big scary number is, to me, just a big scary number. PLUS? Next Saturday it's supposed to be 91. Which is basically scarf weather here, so... YEAH. Happy Fall, friends.

In case for some weird reason that isn't enough for you, here's some things about this fall that make it the best thing in my whole life. Ever.


Sum Optime!
Husband and I have become a little bit... a lot bit... gross and jockish over the past half decade or so. We have become football fans. And seeing as we don't half-butt anything around here, we have become INTENSE football fans, who even watch the preseason with passionate interest. 

NOTE: When I say we have becoming jockish, please understand that I am not saying we have become jocks. I still do not sports. I eat chips and watch other people sports. Never confuse the two.

2- Healthy brain.

After a summer filled with panic attacks and raging self-doubt, followed by buckets of tears and more buckets of prayer, I feel like I'm starting to move past Terrifyingly Crazy Ashley. I feel like, like maybe I can see my way to wholeness. To mental health. To a life that doesn't include crying in the bathroom. To a time where someone could give me a compliment and my brain wouldn't fight like a feral cat to destroy it. I like mental health. It seems promising.

3- Soccer Season.
Sum Pessime.

So yeah, we've become all jockish lately, but we've done so in a CRAZY 'Murica kind of fashion, which means bro I fracking hate soccer. But as it turns out, my kids don't hate soccer. I mean, between you and me, I'm not saying they're GOOD at soccer, but they do seem to like it. Cute uniforms. Snacks and juice. Plus grown ups who clap and treat them like super stars. They love it all. 

And I hate it all.

So this year, like the lazy, uncaring parents that we are, we decided to skip the soccer season And right now, RIGHT NOW, it is almost 2:30 on a Saturday afternoon, and I am still in my pajamas, relaxed on the couch with my feet up on a card table that holds a puzzle I was working on earlier. THIS is how you fall. THIS is how you Saturday.

Last year, with 3 soccer games every single Saturday, we didn't have free time. We didn't have lazy days. In fact, not one single lazy day in almost 3 months. And that kind of thing breaks my brain, my brain which is obviously far too fragile for breaks. So we skipped soccer this year, and now I get to lie on the couch in my pajamas, and later, go out on a date with my husband. And may I remind you? It is one hundred and eight fracking degrees outside. I'm pretty sure refusing to sign the kids up for organized sports was the best choice I've ever made in my life. So you're welcome.

4- Lastly, for now at least, the homeschool thing. 

Because as it turns out... we're maybe finally figuring out how to do this thing. We work. We get it done. They're getting better, and for NO JOKE, seven straight school days, zero kids have had a meltdown. I'm not sure what's happening, but it's been like, FUN. Consistently fun. For the first time ever. 

So there ya go. This is obviously a fall to celebrate. And in that spirit, we spent our Friday school day reading, crafting, and decorating the house for this most glorious of seasons. I even dusted. It's like I'm becoming a real life adult person.

Of course, last night after the kids went to bed, husband and I sat down and he... had some thoughts. "You know honey... the house looks GREAT. Definitely great. I'm not saying it doesn't look great but... you know this means this stuff will be here for three straight months?  

OBVIOUSLY, Husband. Of course I'm aware how many days the fall stuff will be here until the Christmas stuff comes to replace it. But you shut your beautiful mouth. Cuz Wifey Pants NEEDS THIS.

Happy Fall. 

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Rules for Surviving Motherhood with your Sanity

If you want to survive the experience of mothering small children, there are some pretty important rules that you should totally follow. Or you won't survive at all. You'll die. It's pretty much a guarantee. And let me assure you, death by tiny humans is no way to go.

1- To start with, avoid having a lot of kids close together in age.
You are allowed to have children, and you may, in rare instances have multiple children, if you, for some reason think the world REQUIRES so many miniature copies of you, but at the very least, space them out. This way you can focus on each child individually and they will not overwhelm you. NOTE: It is HIGHLY important for mothers to be able to parent from a place that is NOT overwhelmed. This is absolutely ESSENTIAL.

2- Allow dinner time to be sacred. 
Serve a healthy meal, at an appropriate hour. Dinner time is a chance for the family to come together and reunite at the end of a day, and should not be interrupted by any one child's desperate need for attention, or desire to be silly. No loud noises, no inappropriate jokes. Always remind the children that they are not to speak unless spoken to. 

3- Make sure your children are always well dressed, and neat. 
There is something centering about starting your day well. Make the bed. Get dressed. Meet the day in a state of preparedness. Along with this, if the children are used to staying neat and clean, they will understand the importance of maintaining cleanliness and order in all aspects of their lives. That order will translate to peace and sanity in all parts of your life. So keep your children well dressed, clean and orderly, and you will thank me later!

4- And above all, parent from a place of rest. 
Prioritize self-care. If you, as a mother are unrested, if you have allowed any stress to enter your life, if you do not take care of yourself first, you simply have nothing to give to another person. First secure your own air mask, then help those around you. If you are tired, you may find yourself grumpy. You may feel stressed. Your house will become messy and your psychology will suffer. So make sure you take lots, and lots, and lots of time, just for you.

So fun story? Turns out I may in fact be failing at, well,  just about all the things. Our house is small. It is noisy, and messy, and full of chaos and laughter and a mommy that sometimes cries in the bathroom, because cut me some slack, everybody needs to cope.

I apologize for the ruse, dear friends. Cuz this was all totally a lie and I have exactly ZERO answers for maintaining your sanity. I mean, I guess personally Ilike hot baths, complicated puzzles, and again, the crying in the bathroom always seems to help, but that's not advice. That's just some stuff I like. OH AND COFFEE. Sorry, can't believe I almost forgot coffee. Coffee IS advice. Listen to coffee. 

Thing is, it's super easy to make a sanctimonious list of "How Tos". To type out flighty advice as to how you could feel younger and better looking and smarter and generally just better at life. But my friends, that stuff is garbage. And mostly annoying. And when it comes down to it, chicks who cry on the toilets do NOT do sanctimony well. I think it might be because of the toilets, but in truth I need to expand my sample size before I run more tests.

So that's it, friends. No advice for you today. Life is chaos sometimes. And it's hard sometimes. And we all do our best... most of the time. Take a deep breath, relax. And enjoy, I suppose, because someday, the quiet will come. And word on the street is,  Sanity gets pretty boring.

Wednesday, August 23, 2017

What Homeschoolers Do When God Steals the Sun

Um I'm not sure if any of you heard or anything, but yesterday, like, God totally stole the sun. Well. Stole is a pretty strong word. Because he gave it back. Obviously. So this is a list of things some homeschoolers do when God decides to borrow then, but only for a while, and then everything goes back to normal, until seven years from now, when he wants to borrow the sun again.*
  1. They buy blackout glasses and activity books and read several thousand articles about proper eclipse viewing.
  2. They try to bribe their husbands to take a family road trip to Idaho where Totality is actually viewable, because 71% sounds very sad and pretty much nothing in comparison to TOTALITY.
  3. They pout a bunch when husband reminds them they have "real jobs" and no time for road trips, no matter how scientific those road trips may be.
  4. They decide to make the best of it, and eventually stop pouting.
  5. They share their extra glasses with their homeschool friends who aren't as crazy and planned-ahead as they are. (Also, how were you guys not crazy and planned-head?? BAD Homeschoolers. BAD.)
  6. They have school outside in nature.
  7. The try all the things.
  8. They get excited and nerdy.
  9. They discuss science and math and geography. And scripture. And history. And oh yeah, astronomy. 
  10. They watch videos of places where it looked even cooler than it did here.
  11. Then they set the academics aside and ride bikes and stuff for a while, because PE, probably.

Week 2 of Homeschool, and it has already included a once in a lifetime experience. So that's pretty awesome. On the less awesome front, my daughters have been taking turns throwing massive tantrums. The first day for one, the second for another, back and forth until today, actually, wherein Yesterday's Tantrummer decided to make this one a two-fer.  So that's cooooool.

Safety first, 'Murica!
I am working hard to make this year better than last. I am working hard to be more involved, to do more things, to make it more interesting, to be more engaged. Attachment before Academics  right? But as it turns out, sometimes, my kids are still going to have meltdowns. The girls in particular have strong feelings and stronger wills, and they're going to fight me. They just are. It's as predictable as, say, the rotation of the moon.** They're going to fight the fact that I've asked them to do something. Even if that something seems relatively fun. Even if that something seems relatively small.

Some days, when you try super especially hard, and then the tiny humans try to destroy everything... well, it can make you want to quit. Of course, that's not an option. I could choose to send them to someone else for school, to public school, but that isn't quitting, because I'm still their mother, and shaping their little hearts and minds is going to be my job just the same. You can choose whether or not to teach them reading and math. You don't get to choose whether or not to teach them character.

So on we go, on we strive, through the periods of eclipse and back into the light. Focus forward, no panicking. I know it seems dark now, but God never takes the sun away forever.
*Thought I'd put some minds at ease, in case you weren't sure how quality our science education was. Don't worry. I got this covered.

**NOT a menstruation reference. I swear. Because my girls are 6 and 7. Although sometimes, MAN. Sometimes I wonder...

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

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.
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