Hey There Smarty

The saga continues with "They Might Be Geniuses".

Little Awesome came home with papers for me to sign to have her tested for the 'Gifted and Talented' program.

Before I signed, I thought we should have an important discussion about what it entailed. I sat her down at the sitting rug (the rug in our living room that we sit on because we don't have a couch cause geniuses don't bother with mundane things like 'having enough furniture').

"Little Awesome, are you sure you want to do this?" I asked solemnly then explained my concern: "Because it usually just means you have to do more homework."

She considered for half a second and shrugged.

Well, if that isn't gifted and talented, I don't know what is. I signed the papers.

We're still waiting to hear back on that.

Then came the end of term. Or what I thought was end of term. I looked forward to the litany of A+++++'s I expected to see on their report cards. In fact, I became a little obsessed. Once it became apparent that it was possible for my kids to get straight A's for the first time in their lives, I wanted it like I've never wanted anything before.

I have never behaved thusly. I started chiding MiniFantabulous if she received any grade below 90. Naturally she took my constructive criticism as threatening, psychotic behavior and said things like, "Shut up!" and "Stop being a crazy bitch!" I saw reason in her arguments and backed off. Still, I couldn't wait until the end of the term to see all those bright, shiny A's we had earned.

Like a schmuck, I assumed the term was over when Christmas break came. What a dumbass I was!! I must have temporarily forgotten how smart we all are! It takes a real genius to plan the school year so the kids have their finals, AFTER they've had two weeks off from doing anything scholastic whatsoever!! I saw it as an opportunity. MiniFantabulous had one class in which she only had an 85% and several in which I had no idea whatsoever what was going on because I was 'too annoying' and 'acting like a freak'! I did everything in my power to use those two extra weeks to bring us back up to at least a 90% across the board.

I came up with a plan that would rival any Einstein had ever had:

"I'll give you 5 dollars for each A you get."

Lesson learned: Intrinsic rewards are for B earning dumbasses.

It was pure genius (I was beginning to see where they get their smarts from), nothing motivates like the prospect of being able to spend money on clothes sewn by the tender hands of children who never earned an A in their life (mostly cause they've been working in sweatshops since birth) at your mom's work with an extra employee discount!!

I was so determined that on the last day of the term when MiniFantabulous came home saying she hadn't been able to turn in a big homework packet because she had forgotten it at home, AweseomCool and I rushed her back to school in a frenzy to get it turned in.

The teacher wasn't there. It was the last day of school for the term. It wouldn't be accepted tomorrow. It might not even be accepted now! We hysterically pleaded our case to the front office. The office suggested we put it in her mailbox. We did.

Then we went to her classroom in case the office had lied and she was totally there and if she was there to alert her to the uber-important mail she had waiting in her teacher mail box. She wasn't there, however, the silly fool had left the door unlocked.

We did what any sane parents wandering around their kid's school would do. We barged in, MinFantabulous in tow. We rummaged through her desk. We found the rest of the homework packets. What could we do then but go back to the office, break into her mailbox, get the packet out, sneak back into her classroom, find MiniFantabulous's class's homework packets and mix hers in like it had been there all along?? If you answered 'Anything but that' you are so wrong and not nearly as committed to your child's grades as I am.

Then the report cards came.

"How many dollars do I get for an A?" Asked LittleAwesome, innocently.

"Five." I answered my genius temporarily waning. If she didn't remember, I didn't have to either. One is just a good of a number as five, right?

"What's 8 times 5?" (She's not the kind of gifted and talented genius that can do math facts in her head, duh.)

"What?!"

I snatched the report card out of her hands and there before me were A's in all her EIGHT classes. It was then that I realized I should have found out how many classes she was in before I made this bargain. Who knew a 5th grader would have eight classes, though? Does lunch count? What the hell?

Then came MiniFantabulous's. And although our valiant efforts with the homework packet did not garner her an A in that class, whatever she was doing in all her other classes did.

Luckily, she only has six classes.

Sill. I owe my kids $65 for something they probably would have done without any motivation whatsoever. So who's the real genius in this scenario? (If you answered anything but 'SuperFantabulous' you clearly know nothing about what it means to be smart. Really, really, for REALS smart.)

The Kids Are Alright

In my ongoing commitment to hypochondria, I went to the eye doctor sure my macula was totally degenerating. He said the inside of my eyeball looks shiny, like that of a much younger person. Forget that I can't see out of the fucking things, my eyeballs are young on the inside, which is where it matters!! Obviously!!

Same with my goddamn face. If I ever bought alcohol or went to clubs, I might get carded. I don't drink and try not to go anywhere unless I absolutely have to, so we'll never know if that hassle would be part of my life. I kinda doubt it, but you never know.

The point is, at work, I'm making friends. Don't die of shock. They're not friends in the way that I would call, hang out, or talk to them unless I have to. I speak to them at work when we happen to be in the vicinity of each other which is pretty much my version of BFFs.

The only trouble with my fake-not-really-friends is that they're literally half my age, but I can totally relate to them and only very occasionally in a mom-kid type of way (don't get a fucking art degree you moron!).

Now. My eyeballs are young on the inside. My face is young on the outside. I've often wondered why . . .

My brain is fucking immature as fuck. <----THE SECRET TO MY LONGEVITY!

Fuck your career. Don't have a mortgage. Refuse to grow up. Planning ahead is for old people! Get an entry level job at FuckingCapris when you're 36. You're a MILF for life.

Sexiest Abs

BodyRock.Tv

20/10

SJL
Me:23,25

Sandbag Alt Shoulder Squat
Me:4,4

SJL
Me:24,24

Dive Bombers
Me:5,5

SJL
Me:25,25

Sandbag Clean
Me:6,6

SJL
Me:24,24

Side to Side Donkey Kick
Me:24,28

SJL
Me:24,25

Sit Up
Me:4,4

SJL
Me:24,24

Slide Under w/ Sandbag
Me:9,10

300 Reps of Brutality

BodyRock.Tv

5x

Me:29.41

1) Lunge Twist – 10 reps

2) Dive Bomber Burpee – 10 reps

3) Jump Squat & Swing – 10 reps

4) Ugi Push Off – 10 reps

5) Sumo Squat – 20 reps

Superstars

Are you annoyed at your kid's mediocrity? Is your kid just another face in the crowd? Does he or she not stand out in any way whatsoever? Did you know there was a way for them to instantly become the most brilliant, interesting, all around talented kid in school?

It's easy!! Soooooooo easy!!!

If you're like me, your kids go to a school where 'low income' really has no meaning. It could mean you don't have a yacht. Or that your two car garage has a Ford and a Nissan inside rather than a Mercedes and a BMW. Maybe you don't have enough money to vacation in the Caribbean, but you can take the kids to Disney Land once in a while. This is America, after all. We may be poor, but nobody's so poor they can't drive to Disney Land, right?? Right??

For the record, I was vaguely aware REALLY low income people existed. I'd read about them in newspapers. I'd seen a few documentaries, I'd heard of people who had heard of people who came from those places. They existed SOMEWHERE, just no where near me.

Then it was time to enroll my kids in school. I was exhausted from my summer of 'Working My Fucking Ass Off" so I decided they'd just go in whatever school was nearby. Also there was a lot of drama in RainyTown that went into getting your kid into one of the 'Alternative' schools and I was not in the mood to find out what that entailed in CrazyHellTown.

I looked up the schools in our neighborhood. The elementary school wasn't horrible, the middle school, however, scared the shit out of me. Here are some actual quotes from people who's kids went to that school:

"There are gangs."
"Instead of kids bullying each other the teachers are the bullies at this school."
"Too much violence in this school."
"She has been exposed to far more ridiculous and childish behavior from the TEACHERS than I ever thought possible."

How could I sent my innocent little nearly middle class MiniFantabulous into a school like that?

We considered sending her to a school near where AwesomeCool works. The area was more affluent. The schools were supposedly better, but she'd have to wait after school every day until AwesomeCool could pick her up, because we are a one car family and it is literally IMPOSSIBLE to go anywhere without a car. Believe me. I would do it if I could. There is no way.

In the end, the prospect of them both being able to ride the bus home, allowing us to never worry about how and when we would be picking them up won out. Yay for us being good parents and making decisions based on their best interest!

Despite our careful considerations, I was still nervous. I wasn't sure we shouldn't make a last ditch effort to get her into a different school but then we went to the counselor and MiniFantabulous was enrolled in all advanced placement classes. I decided that made up for anything else that might happen. Anyway, back home, she once stabbed a boy in the neck with a pencil. I was fairly confident she could throw down if necessary.

Now fast forward the first term is over and they have both survived. There was no violence. They both have friends. The teachers are not bullies as far as I can tell (except for her math teacher who intimidated the fuck out of me at parent teacher conferences). And both are earning top grades in everything and succeeding at life!!

Thanks to our new and interesting insight into low income life, we've learned a few important lessons about what it means to attend these schools:

1. Just by doing their homework, my kids are going above and beyond what many of their classmates are able or willing to do.

2. Putting a little effort means they are pretty much guaranteed an A in every class (Well, MiniFantabulous has decided in her infinite wisdom that studying for tests is a waste of time and is betting a few Bs. I have no idea where she gets these wild, crazies from).

3. They both won their class's science fair by doing an experiment that wasn't all that impressive.

4. Same kids+Lowered Expectaions=SuperDuperStars!!

Lucky for my kids, I come from a place where it was expected that I go to college. Add my aversion to work and you have a mother with all the time in the world and years of pointless knowledge gleaned from higher education to help/force them to do their homework, harass them into keeping up with their assignments and due dates.

I expect all the little middle classers are going to be following my lead and stream into the down and out cities of America so their kids can be super-duper also. I've discovered something spectacular, no?

I'm pretty sure if we moved to Detroit, they could become mayor. Who knows. Maybe we'll give it a go. I hear you can buy a house for pretty darn cheap.

Another Shitty Movie

14 year old: Wait. Why can't he just work out?

(And that pretty much sums up Captain America)

Top Five Regrets of the Dying

Top Five Regrets of the Dying

Found this on Kelly Oxford's blog. She's my favorite blogger who I discovered on Twitter. She's the one who inspired my "We Watched a Shitty Movie" post. She does those from time to time with her kids and everyone thinks they're hilarious. They are my least favorite of her posts. I think my kids are way funnier. Apparently no one agrees.

But guess what? I don't give a shit, cause without even trying I've been living my life perfectly. ALL THIS TIME! Sure I have absolutely nothing to show for it cause I'm not super rich and famous (yet), but I did shit the easiest way I could and spent a large amount of time doing what I like best: Watching terrible movies and occasionally traveling to wild amazing foreign countries and pissing off the locals to no end. Yay me!!

NURSE REVEALS TOP 5 REGRETS OF THE DYING


For many years I worked in palliative care. My patients were those who had gone home to die. Some incredibly special times were shared. I was with them for the last three to twelve weeks of their lives. People grow a lot when they are faced with their own mortality.
I learnt never to underestimate someone’s capacity for growth. Some changes were phenomenal. Each experienced a variety of emotions, as expected, denial, fear, anger, remorse, more denial and eventually acceptance. Every single patient found their peace before they departed though, every one of them.

When questioned about any regrets they had or anything they would do differently, common themes surfaced again and again. Here are the most common five:

1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
This was the most common regret of all. When people realize that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people had not honoured even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made.

It is very important to try and honour at least some of your dreams along the way. From the moment that you lose your health, it is too late. Health brings a freedom very few realise, until they no longer have it.

2. I wish I didn’t work so hard.
This came from every male patient that I nursed. They missed their children’s youth and their partner’s companionship. Women also spoke of this regret. But as most were from an older generation, many of the female patients had not been breadwinners. All of the men I nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence.

By simplifying your lifestyle and making conscious choices along the way, it is possible to not need the income that you think you do. And by creating more space in your life, you become happier and more open to new opportunities, ones more suited to your new lifestyle.

3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.
Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others. As a result, they settled for a mediocre existence and never
became who they were truly capable of becoming. Many developed illnesses relating to the bitterness and resentment they carried as a
result.

We cannot control the reactions of others. However, although people may initially react when you change the way you are by speaking honestly, in the end it raises the relationship to a whole new and healthier level. Either that or it releases the unhealthy relationship from your life. Either way, you win.

4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.
Often they would not truly realise the full benefits of old friends until their dying weeks and it was not always possible to track them down. Many had become so caught up in their own lives that they had let golden friendships slip by over the years. There were many deep regrets about not giving friendships the time and effort that they deserved. Everyone misses their friends when they are dying.

It is common for anyone in a busy lifestyle to let friendships slip. But when you are faced with your approaching death, the physical
details of life fall away. People do want to get their financial affairs in order if possible. But it is not money or status that holds the true importance for them. They want to get things in order more for the benefit of those they love. Usually though, they are too ill and weary to ever manage this task. It is all comes down to love and relationships in the end.
That is all that remains in the final weeks, love and relationships.

5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.
This is a surprisingly common one. Many did not realise until the end that happiness is a choice. They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called ‘comfort’ of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to their selves, that they were content. When deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again. When you are on your deathbed, what others think of you is a long way from your mind. How wonderful to be able to let go and smile again, long before you are dying.

Life is a choice. It is YOUR life. Choose consciously, choose wisely, choose honestly. Choose happiness.