Note to Self:

When your Rheumatologist prescribes prednisone prior to dental work, take the prednisone. It is a very bad idea to skip it, especially if you don't get enough sleep to begin with.

No matter how much you wish to act like the arthritis is not changing your life, the doctor actually does know best.

Reminiscent

With all of the talk of Michael Jackson it reminded me of one of my favorite drinks growing up.

Does anyone else remember the Clearly Canadian beverage line? I looked for it at the store today, but there wasn't any.

Busted

Rebi: Mom, I'm writing a story and one line says, "Her cell phone rang, a jangling 80's tune by an artist known as the King of Pop." Do you know who that is?
Mom: (absentmindedly working on a contract and not really listening) Uhm. No. Not really.
Rebi: You don't know who the King of Pop is? How can you not know Michael Jackson?
Mom: Well Reb, I was never a huge Michael Jackson fan.

Ellie: Yeah huh Mom, I read it in your journal that you LOVED Michael Jackson.

Which cracks me up because I honestly don't remember loving him. And, for the record, I was 9. It wasn't a recent journal or anything.

So, in looking for a fun Michael Jackson clip to post with this, I found this little gem on YouTube.

What a great way to spend all of that extra "free" time, right? Frankly, I'm way more frightened of the "girl" in the video than I am of the zombies.

Pipe Dream?

Please excuse the double post today. It's just that I might actually get to sink into my bed before midnight tonight. I might even begin to slumber before 2 am. Which is news. Big news. If it's true. If it's not some horrible joke being played upon me by a cruel universe. . .

See? I need sleep. My brain cells are starting to ooze out my ears. It's pretty gross. And I can't find the Q-tips.

But 4 of my 5 kids are out of their beds for the 3rd 965th time tonight. So maybe I will have to embrace the fact that my best dreams are indeed pipe dreams.

Momentarily I was excited about getting to bed "early", but now I've talked myself out of believing in the miracle.

Math, my least favorite subject

Although there are few of us in this world crazy enough to home school our herds, I wanted to bring some attention to the unique struggles we face as parents. I like to think of it as activism. Drawing awareness to human rights abuses worldwide.

Contrary to my exaggerations in this post, my kids do not sit around watching TV and playing video games instead of attending school. I know it looks that way to anyone who visits my house on a semi-regular basis, but it is simply not true. It's an evil rumor.

Right now, it is time to start assessing all of the things we need to cover next year. Because honestly, it's spring and this year is a total bust. After 3 years of this, you would think I could remember that all of the learning has to happen before daylight savings time kicks in again. And frankly, George W isn't helping me with that any. And my energy bills don't seem to have gone down much either. Can I have an amen?

Anywhoo. . .so I'm looking at math programs. Rebi and Evan have the choice of Geometry, Number theory, Algebra 2, Probability, and probably 32 other types of math I know nothing about. Because I am not a fan. Addition and subtraction? Sure. I'll even do some multiplication and division. Fractions, parabolas and the quadratic equation all go straight over my head. OK, maybe not the fractions, but don't ask me to divide them.

In addition to the choices of subject matter, there are at least 19 different ways to teach each one. Community college? Online programs? DVD's? Straight text book? Life of Fred? Art of Problem Solving? Teaching Textbooks? Aleks? EPGY? Honestly, the possibilities are endless. And opinions on each vary just like snowflakes. Ask 30 people which math program to use and no two opinions will be the same.

So, before August, I need to take a math class. Then, I will use my newfound skills to calculate the statistical probability of success for each child based on the inverse function of cost of programs versus retention of skills. I will even factor in the cost of switching programs in January when it becomes clear that my first choice was a total failure not only for my kids, but miraculously for every home schooled child on the planet. Because that's usually the type of course I start with. Trust me when I say, bargain shopping with your children's' education is not going to benefit anyone. Well, except your toes because you will still be able to afford pedicures. But the "inexpensive" programs really are cheap for a reason.

Comfort Zone

Today is one of those days when I think I have enough time in between kids' activities to get actual work done. But I don't. I just get into a contract or an insertion order and it's time to run a child somewhere else. I've been working on the same IO all day, but 15 minutes here and there is only enough time to calculate a column or enter a line item and take care of all the other urgent email that comes in while I'm gone. And when I did have a full hour, the kids took a magnifying glass outside and started burning things. I thought is was a good idea to pay attention to that activity. Call me Smokey. Because I learned it in Kindergarten- I can prevent forest fires. And hopefully house and neighborhood fires.

Sometimes I wonder how much more I would accomplish if I had 8 hours of uninterrupted time each day and not only the hours between 10 pm and 1 am. Sometimes, I think I want a desk job in a real office so that I can leave all of this behind, get my work done, and get home again.

Then I think about office politics. And dressy clothes. And seeing my boss every day. And the fact that my children would just text and call me all day to solve their problems anyway. No matter how much they fight and how crazy some days get, it's worth it just to stay in my pajamas all day. . .

Son, Be a Dentist

I don't like going to the dentist. The sound of the pick scraping against my teeth makes me shudder. The noise from the drill gives me goosebumps. The smell of tooth being eroded quickly and mechanically makes me want to gag. And should they start to drill before I'm fully numb, which actually happens almost every time I have a filling, I am quite likely to screech, flail, and weep like a small child.

By the way, can anyone tell me why every dentist says, "OK, we're almost done here" a full 30 minutes before they actually let you up from the chair? Do they teach that in every dental school in the nation? Every time I hear it, it gives me a little feeling of hopelessness. Like maybe I will be stuck in the dentist chair for the rest of my life. Honestly. If I go to Hell, it will be a dentist chair. Forever.

Today was unique though. For the first time in the history of my poorly enameled teeth (and trust me, that's been a lot of dental work over the past 30 years!), I did not lay in the chair begging with a divine Heavenly Power to rescue me from the Hell. Instead, I resigned myself to the torture. Today's torture was in the form of feeling like small pointy instruments were poking down through the tooth and out the flesh of my chin. Did I mention that the pain radiated both up into my nose and down my neck at the same time? That was after 2-3 shots of anesthetic. It was at that point that I realized I both asked him to torture me by encouraging him to complete the root canal today, and I paid for the privilege. To the tune of $500, the remainder of which was billed to insurance.

And it was then that it occurred to me that at $1100 an hour, I could really enjoy watching people suffer. Maybe I should go to dental school.

Officially Monday

• 2 client issues which I must urgently resolve.
• 2 kids at state testing.
• Ellie's birthday, and I FORGOT to tell her happy birthday. Or bake a cake. or wrap presents. Poor middle kid.
• We're out of milk.
• I am leaving now for a root canal. Brilliant. . .

It's the simple things