It's just a crying shame that she can't read.
Since coming to reside in Weaselville last September, Matilda The Hun has been a wonderful and much appreciated addition to our home. She is sweet, loving, devoted and has proven to be easily trainable.
She breezed through Puppy Kindergarten and quickly learned the basic commands that she would need to make a smooth transition to her new home.
There have always been some things that just seem to confound her though. For instance, unlike most dogs, Matilda will not cry at the door when she needs to go outside to take care of business. So, we made accommodations by teaching her to ring a bell instead. All good.
Weighing in somewhere around 100lbs and growing, Matilda fails to understand why the cats have shunned her attempts to play with them. We taught her 'leave it' and she does, giving the cats a chance to shoot up the stairs and take cover under the safety of a bed. All Good.
Matilda has figured out how to nudge my laptop out of the way when she would prefer to rest her head in it's place.
Her latest conundrum though, is hysterical to watch. That is until she wakes me up with her crying at 2 am because she has managed to find herself trapped in a room, with an open door! Really, I am not pulling your leg.
Doors, even when up to open 1/2 way, have proven to be a nemesis that always gets the best of her. It doesn't matter what side of the door she is on or whether she would have to use her nose to pull the door open wider or simply nudge the door forward to gain entrance or exit. Matilda will stand there and whine for someone to help her, much like a toddler who can not reach their sippy cup.
This is dog that is tall enough to snatch up food from the kitchen table while still planted firmly on the floor with all 4 paws. This is a friendly, easy going pup that gives people the sudden urge to cross the street rather than cross her path, just from sheer size. This is dog that knows her way to her best buddy St. Bernard's house and how to knock on the door to gain entrance for a play date in the yard and yet couldn't find her way out of a wet paper bag if there is a door involved unless it is completely unobstructed.
She fits in perfectly in Weaselville.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
in Suburban Wow!
That's right, This Friday is the next episode of Suburban Wow!
I am adding some twists for you, just to keep it interesting.
The special time is Noon EDT, 11 am CDT and 9 Pacific.
We will be broadcasting ON LOCATION!
I have a special co-host for the day, Michelle, author of Honest and Truly will be stepping in for Melisa who will be joining the viewership for a day!!!!!!! This will be crazy fun.
You never know what surprises are just around the corner
neither do we.
Leave me a note and tell me you are coming!
Monday, March 29, 2010
Remember a time in your life when weekends were fun and relaxing? Remember when your time was your own, to do with as you pleased after a long week? Yes, it was indeed such a long time ago. It was back when you would play soccer with a ball instead of your bust line and you actually could wear those size 5 jeans that live in your closet.
Life in Weaselville has been busy as ever lately. The weekends are no exception.
Friday Night Mr. Weasel and I took the Weasels to dinner at a family friendly Irish Pub that is housed in a very old building that once upon of time had been some kind of warehouse. We had been there once before and although everyone likes the place, None of the Girls will go to the restroom there without Mom coming along. It's only this particular restroom that really creeps them out and they insist on an escort in arms reach at all times. I have talked to some employees there and many of waitstaff have similar aversions to the ladies room and the attic. There's lots of stories to be told.
Saturday morning Eldest Weasel was competing in the the State indoor track meet to run the 3200 relay. I had her up and out early to catch the team bus for the 2 1/2 ride and the Mr. & I drove down shortly thereafter. The girls did great and made us proud, even though they didn't place.
Mr. Weasel and I planned to stop for lunch before heading home and knew we had found a novelty when we spotted this place:
I laughed hard when we spotted this. We simply had to try it, just so that we could say that we did. You know before even walking into a place like this what the quality of the meal will be, yet we threw caution to the wind, ignored all the red flags and jumped in with both feet.
I laughed myself silly as we noticed all the warnings and took the plunge anyway.
- Carlos O'Kelly's is located right next store to a Chili's that was jam packed, yet it's parking lot only has 3 or 4 cars, including ours.
- The decor was more reminiscent of Key West than Mexico.
- I thoroughly doubt that anyone named Carlos or O'Kelly has ever worked in the establishment that really reminded me more of a Denny's with a different color scheme.
The con queso was the least cheesy part of the entire experience.
My lunch consisted of a dish on the menu that I had never heard of, but in reality turned out to be burrito carne de la nasty with rice cooked in tomato soup and refried beans fresh from the can. The beans turned out to be the best part of the meal.
Sunday came and I attempted to make a video for an online competition with the help of Weasels to handle the camera work. Six hours and seven house guests later, the project isn't finished being taped, let alone edited. I should really no better by now.
Ah, one of these days I will miss these crazy busy weekends. For right now, I would be happy to don my size five jeans again.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Anybody who has been hanging around Weaselville for a while, knows by now that Pooh Bear likes to party. He does so while his primary caretaker, Monkey Weasel, is in school and then he acts as if he is an innocent, dreamy little bear when she comes home. Pooh is actually a pretty good bear until he starts hanging with the wrong crowd, i.e.
Yes, Pooh is rather fond of his whiskey. Let's face it, we are all a little fond of something that is not necessarily good for us, so I don't hold that against him
until he starts throwing back shots of the high end private stock after he's already 1/2 in the bag.
Little party dude had been really looking forward to St Patrick's Day. This is the one day of the year that I allow him open access to the liquor cabinet and my blessing to have at it, but alas, he awoke that morning to find himself all stuffed up and although Pooh Bear's spirit was wanting, the poor little lush was under the weather and stayed in bed all day and missed out on the festivities.
To make it up to him, I told him that I would find a day to take him
on a bender out for drinks once he was feeling better. Well, that day has come and true to my word.......
After he threw a few back, he quickly became the life of the party and made lots of new friends.
Before long it was definitely time to get some food into his tubby little cubby all stuffed with booze.
Everything was going really smooth. Pooh was having fun and not causing any trouble. That would end once you know who showed up.
Only a friend like Tigger would be able to talk his buddy into something like this:
I managed to put an end to this before Tigger actually hit the popcorn button and I figured that is was time to get Pooh home and back to bed.
Well there you have it, Pooh Bears field trip out of the woods.
It's Fatherhood Friday at Dad-Blogs, so dads (and moms) out there, the lesson of the day is that you are never to old to play with your kids toys and be sure to keep the liquor cabinet locked.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
I am lucky to married to a man that is extremely willing to help out around the house. Although it is not often that you will catch him pushing a vacuum around, you will often find him with his hands in dishwater or knee deep in laundry. This is a big and much appreciated help.
We have been married for 16+ years and have had the benefit of 6 children, 5 of them precious little girls. Since the advent of their births, none have grown past the age of 4 years. At least that's the way Mr. Weasel's reality believes it to be.
Eldest Weasel, our first born girl, is soon to turn 16. She wears my jeans and shirts. We are able to share clothes on a regular basis, and it works well for us. She is slightly taller than I and similar in build
although she is much more fit and firmer than her mother.
A father that sees a little girl of 4 years twinkle in his eyes + a teenager in reality + laundry = a nervous breakdown for Daddy.
Not too long ago, Mr Weasel was folding a load of laundry and came across some ladies underwear. Immediately, he stormed into the room, holding the panties outstretched in an accusatory manner, obviously completely distressed. "Please tell me these are yours!".
Now please note, the panties in question were not anything obscene. They were standard issue underwear. No thongs, no lace, no inscription. They were run of the mill underwear with no special markings what so ever. They just didn't have any cartoon animal thrust upon them. No Power Puff Girls or Hilary Duff or Scoobie Doo markings were to be found.
"Why yes, of course they are mine", and I get the I'm not buying it look accompanied by "These look a little small for you and I don't recognize them".
Me ~ "Who's would they be then? Have you been bringing strange panties home and what do you mean they look a little small?"
Mr. W ~ "Are you sure they don't belong to Eldest?"
Me ~ "Do they have any butterflies or cartoon characters on them?"
Mr. W ~ "No, but they don't look like yours. No, they do look like yours, but smaller and I haven't seen them before".
Me ~ "They are mine, dude. Do you need me to try them on to prove it? Give them to me".
I was handed the underpants in question and quickly put them on over my clothes. They were a more perfect fit than Cinderella's glass slipper.
Me ~ Now do you believe me?
Mr. W ~ Yeah. I just don't remember those.
At this point I just break out laughing and confess, "Yes, Mr. W, these do belong to Eldest and you better watch those 'these look too small' comments. You got what you deserved."
He went back to folding laundry, completely deflated that his little girl isn't so little and agreed to never again question what underwear belonged to whom. When in doubt, they are Moms.
Monday, March 22, 2010
The Winners of the Wrap Yourself in Awesome Sauce Sweatshirt Blanket giveaway are:
Charlie on the PaTpk, author of the blog Nobody asked me, but....
and is generously donating his six blankets of choice and his World of Weasels blanket to SIDS of Illinois to sell as a fundraiser. Thanks Charlie for supporting an organization so very close to my heart.
Crystal Arcand of 3Stairs.com will soon find herself snuggled in the warmth and softness of her World of Weasels Sweatshirt Blanket with extra warmth in her heart from the knowledge that 6 Custom Blankets will be donated, thanks to her, to Operation Christmas Child. A fantastic organization of her choosing.
And thanks to all who entered. Remember Sweatshirt Blankets the next time you are seeking a fundraiser for your school, scouting troop, non profit organization or even family reunion. They definitely get the WeaselMomma seal of approval, something that doesn't come easily. Read about it all here.
Friday, March 19, 2010
*SUBURBAN WOW will livestream today at a special time ~ Noon Eastern / 11am CDT/ 9 Pacific* Click HERE to enjoy an hour with the fabulous Melisa and I.
My Dad was very old school when it came to parenting young children. He did not enjoy 'babysitting' while Mom went out for the day. He was not a diaper changer. Yes, Dad would occasionally wind up doing these things. However, he was never very happy about it. His strengths in parenting centered more around handling teenagers rather than pipsqueaks.
Shopping and malls were also things that made Dad's 'Do Not Want' list. These were activities that Dad would avoid like Ebola.
So you can imagine Dad's extreme displeasure, one weekend when I was around 6 and Mom was participating in a ceramics show at a large mall about an hour away from home all day both Saturday and Sunday and suggested ~ in a way that only a wife can ~ that Dad feed, dress and pile all 5 of us children into the car and drive us out to this particular mall on Sunday, during the Christmas shopping season.
Dad's mood was bad and on eggshells we walked as we
jumped around like Mexican jumping beans balanced the energy and excitement of going to the mall with trying to stay out of the line of fire.
Once at the mall, Dad was to walk us 5 around window shopping through the large crowds. Soon his mood went from bad to foul. He held onto my hand and that of my younger sister and the older kids were to stick close behind. Of course, every few minutes we would wiggle loose of his grip and dart away to stare into a store window. Dad's fuse was getting shorter by the minute and we were pushing our luck far beyond what common sense would mandate.
We darted away from him, once again, and to the window of the Mecca of the mall shopping experience for children, the pet store. Although highly displeased, Dad allowed us to watch the puppies playing there for a few minutes before reaching down and taking two little hands on either side of him and leading us to continue moving along.
The only problem was that in his frustration and haste, Dad managed to grab the hand of my little sister on one side and a small child that did not belong to him on the other. The unintentionally abducted child tried to pull away without making a peep and Dad just grew angrier and more frustrated, but did not not let go and did not even turn his head to give a warning look. I on the other hand, just followed behind him, walking with my older siblings. No one dared to correct him or inform him of his error. It could have been a kill the messenger kind of moment.
After about 50 feet of dragging this uncooperative abductee, Dad finally turned to yell at them and realized in complete shock that he didn't recognize this child and saw the child's mother running at him and screaming with mall security in tow.
The rest of us tried to stifle our chuckles as we watched Dad become fully aware that he had indeed just stepped
in a very large pile of... off a nasty cliff. The mother grabbed her child and continued yelling for my father to be arrested as Dad rebutted that he had enough of his own children and certainly didn't want hers too.
Lucky for him, the security guards has understood that this was all an unfortunate mistake and nothing was made out of it, despite the mother's ranting.
Dad immediately took us on a bee-line to Mom, ensuring that he indeed had the correct children this time, with his mood worse than ever, looking for sympathy and understanding that did not come. All Mom could do was laugh and point out that he brought this all on himself. A fact that Dad disputed for years to come.
Parenting lesson of the day, patience is more that a virtue, it can be necessary to keep you from getting thrown in prison.
This ones for you MM.
Happy Fatherhood Friday!
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
And the WINNERS are... announced here.
We all have our own little
obsessive/compulsive tendencies idiosyncrasies. There are some things that I am extremely particular about like my refusal to to eat generic macaroni and cheese in life.
While many woman have a passion for shoes and purses, I am completely neurotic about socks. Socks that are worthy to adorn on my precious little tootsies must be thick, cushy, extremely warm and cozy. Come to think about it, I have the same criteria to be met when purchasing bath towels and snuggle blankets too.
Mr. Weasel and the gang openly roll their eyes and laugh at me anytime I pass by any of these items when shopping. I will stop, touch, pet and squeeze to test and see if they make the grade. Rarely, do I find anything that earns the WeaselMomma seal of approval. Oh, but when I do I stock up immediately
like you would if you found an oasis of water in the middle of a desert.
I am extremely
nuts particular when it comes to blankets. I love blankets. All of the Weasels love blankets. We burrow in them while in the living room. The kids keep them wrapped around themselves while eating breakfast. They get carried around the house as if everyone here is trying out for the part of Linus in a live action Charlie Brown movie. The Weasel children hoard the best and most favorite blankets in the house, as they are as particular as their mother in this area. We have well over a dozen throw blankets in Weaselville, but the softest and coziest ones are never large enough to cover both your feet and your shoulders at the same time without having to curl yourself up into a fetal position and the softest ones always wear thin the fastest or lose the softness after the first wash. This is always highly annoying to me.
So when Sweatshirt Blanket.com approached me to review their blanket, I thought "Bring it on!". It was highly unlikely to fit my extreme criteria of blanket euphoria. I checked out their website and read this braggy little blurb:
The sweatshirt blanket is perfect for warming you up at the big game, picnicking on a cool fall day, or just curling up on the couch with a good movie. This sweatshirt blanket is made of heavy weight jersey fabric, allowing this blanket to feel just like your favorite sweatshirt! The warmth and comfort of your favorite sweatshirt in a blanket! These sweatshirt blankets are made of ring-spun heavyweight sweatshirt material. Your sweatshirt blanket will be shipped folded with a shoestring closure.Ha! I doubted that this product would live up to the companies claims.
The great fabric that these sweatshirt blankets are made out of allows each sweatshirt blanket to be washed and dried without shrinking. The sweatshirt blanket fabric is also great because it has an anti-pill finish. The anti-pill finish means that you don't need to worry about pesky lint balls forming on your blanket eventually thinning the thickness of your sweatshirt blanket. These sweatshirt blankets are wrinkle resistant. Your sweatshirt blanket will stay vibrant for a long period of time because of the great colorfast (anti-fade) fabric.
The sweatshirt blanket is large in size measuring 54" by 84". The large size of the sweatshirt blanket makes it convenient to cuddle up next to your loved one while watching your favorite fall sporting events.
I waited for arrogantly for the blanket to show up at my door. The Sweatshirt Blanket Company had no idea what they were up against. I am too picky about such things.
Upon opening the package, the view of the blanket itself was hopeful. It definitely would make me run the squeeze, pet and rub test were I to see it in a store, so I did. WOW! It was amazing! Super soft, thick and cozy, I was already backtracking on my arrogance. I opened it up to wrap it around myself to find that it was huge! Oh yeah, this would cover my feet and shoulders and still have room to share and cuddle with a Weasel or even the Mr.
Immediately I was cozy and warm, enveloped in it's thick softness. It was love at first cuddle. Oh, and did I happen to mention that they came personalized with my logo and choice of color? Yeah, that made them double cool! I mean like, mind blowing coolness wrapped in awesome sauce. They look awesome, feel awesome and fit all of my high standards of softness, thickness and size. I ran it through the washer and dryer
We are on the heels of the outdoor track season and you better believe that it's coming with me when I dress up like an Eskimo for those early morning events.
I was furnished with 4 of these blankets for review. A friend of mine felt one and insisted to buy one on the spot. I gave one to my dear friend Patsy for her birthday and she too fell in love. Her daughter was so jealous when she saw and felt it ("Hey, where's mine! What am I chopped liver?") that Patsy immediately bought one for her. I'm telling you, this blanket rocks! The Weasels are now ticked and they each want their own too (even though we already have so many throw blankets). They will gladly donate all of their old favorite throws to Good Will to replace them with the Sweatshirt Blanket.
Just to top off a good thing with some whipped cream and cherries, these blankets make for a great fundraiser for your local school, scouting troop or non-profit organization. They retail for $30 each, but you purchase them for $19.48 (minimum 12 blankets per image) and personalize your color and logo.
Oh, you would also like some awesome sauce to drizzle on top? Well okay then, how about this: Sweatshirt Blanket.com is going to give TWO of you lucky readers a World Of Weasels blanket, PLUS SIX MORE BLANKETS with your choice of personalization to donate to your favorite organization, company or blog! Check it people!!!!!!!!
Want one? I knew you would ~and they really are increderiffic~ Just enter the giveaway by:
- Visit SweatshirtBlanket.com and leave me a comment about what color and logo you would choose for the 6 blankets you will donate. (1 entry) *Mandatory to enter.
- Pick a great cause that saves lives to donate your 6 blankets to for fundraising purposes , i.e. SIDS of Illinois, for 5 extra bonus entries (and remember you still get one World Of Weasels Blanket for yourself)
- Tweet about this giveaway and send me the link. (1 bonus entry)
- Follow World of Weasels with RSS feed or click on the 'follow' button and let me know. (1 bonus entry)
- Follow Me and Sweatshirt Blanket Blog on twitter and let me know. (1 bonus entry)
Friday, March 12, 2010
This has been a busy and tumultuous week in Weaselville. Thus, I haven't posted anything since Monday. I know that your lives are no less busy than mine, but that's the excuse I am going with. Live with it.
I still can't wrap my head around the events of the week enough to write something coherent in good form, so I am giving you a tour of
the scary little place known as The Mind of WeaselMomma in the form of some fragments.
~ I learned that when serving homemade soup, that you consequently let get to a rolling boil by not paying enough attention to it, it is better to ladle the soup into a bowl for serving purposes rather than directly into the palm of your hand.
~ Cats will always puke during the overnight hours and Mr. Weasel's bare foot will be a magnet for finding it on his way to the light switch and coffee pot.
~ Old Man Winter is in his death throes here in the Windy City and I have every intention of dancing on his grave. I will however plant flowers to mark the event.
~ If you give a geek the opportunity to dress himself, he will choose these and call them the "Best, Most Awesomest shoes ever" no matter how humiliating they are to the rest of the family. Geeks will also rock these gorilla feet with the same confidence that Kindergartners rock sparkly red glitter shoes with green tights and a sun dress.
~ This weekend we change up those pesky clocks and gain an extra hour of sunlight in the evening hours. This day is as happy for me as Christmas and the last day of school.
~ Some people are very apprehensive about their children starting to drive on their own. I however and counting the days until Eldest Weasel begins driving and I am not playing chauffeur nearly as much.
~ If the GPS were to give Mr. Weasel driving directions to Canada via Peru he will follow it blindly like a Siren's Song. I however am the rock that he crashes into.
~ Now don't forget to stop by Mrs.4444's for some more lovely fragments and Dad-Blogs for the awesomeness that is Dads and Fatherhood Friday.
Monday, March 8, 2010
After having talked to Greta Van Susteren, host of Fox News Channel's On The Record, a handful of times with her asking me questions, she was gracious enough to make time for her answer a few of mine.
We are cross promoting
cough, cough and you can see her video of the interview here it's the same thing, but I am the big box and she is the itty bitty one. Here I accidentally still had my settings side by side. Meh, it works.
Yes, we all have needs. Women, myself included, need more than just wistful wants and
pedicures urges with erstwhile pacifying effects. We have lustier needs, deep in the core of our beings that will bring us long lasting satisfaction and hot, steamy, emphatic pangs of joy over and over and over again.
Of course I am talking about my needs. My personal, sanity saving, full tension relieving, do-it-yourself everyday to full and complete satisfaction, kind of needs.
That's right. Yours truly, is lacking in full satisfaction. I need to go from 0 to "Oh my, that is incredibly hot" in 10 seconds and maintain it for up to 45 minutes, minimum.
I have been a full time Mom for 17 years now. I live and love my life daily as I try to keep this 3 ring circus running smoothly. I devote myself to my family, but I need a little sumptin' sumptin' just for myself.
That little Sumptin', is a tank-less, continuous, hot water heater.
I can never shower in the morning before I have to leave the house, because the hot water has been already all used up by people who have to get ready for school or work.
I can never shower while someone else is using the hot water in one of the other bathrooms. Or laundry room. Or dishwasher. I hate trying to race and compete for hot water, everybody involves loses.
With a 40 gallon tank and a family of 7 living here, the hot water demands are great. Ever when the Weasels all leave the house for the day and I finally get to take my shower, I must choose to wash and condition my hair or shave my legs. There is never enough hot water to do both.
I need a long, hot, unencumbered, steamy shower. Preferably on a daily basis. I want silky hair and legs at the same time. I need a steady flow of penetrating heat to sooth my sore and tired muscles and relax me enough to carry the stresses of the day.
I need an endless hot water supply. I need a tank-less, continuous hot water heater.
Alas, I'm not holding my breath. My family has so many other needs that come before my own. Orthodontic apparatus, a fence, a paint job on the first floor of our home and a real deck to replace the one that I tried to burn down last summer, just to name a few.
Now all of you who kept reading while thinking this was going to be a dirty post, go wash your eyes out with soap.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
*Don't forget this morning at 10 am CST/9 Central and 7 Pacific is Suburban Wow! Click This link to join Melisa and I for an hour of fun and laughs.*
I don't know whether it is because it ads a little danger and romance to a relationship or because there are some topics they they would much rather 'play ostrich' with their heads buried firmly in the sand. I suspect it's a mixture of both.
Today, I will destroy all sense for mystery for you in an attempt to help
be more tolerant of the amount of time and money your wife spends on beauty you be a better husbands. Married men don't always have that luxury of staying in the dark when it comes to womanly issues, no matter how deep they stick their fingers in their ears and chant 'lalalalalalalalala'.
Men enjoy the view of a beautiful and well kept woman. Married men puff out their chest a little with pride and joy with the thought of 'she's with me'.
What men tend to give little thought to is the process and work that it takes for a woman to have that attractive and well kept look. Mainly because it's like much like sausage, everybody loves it, but you don't want to know how it's made.
There's always the cliche comments, complaints and jokes made about how much time a woman spends in the bathroom primping before going out. Quite frankly, it's a part time job all by itself to look good and one that most men, even those in special forces, would cringe in fear of.
Women intentionally apply hot wax to the most sensitive parts of their faces (upper lip, under and over the eyebrows & occasionally the jaw line and chin) with the sole intent of ripping it off quickly. This hurts people! Much more so (and much more effective for ripping all those tiny little hairs away) than ripping a bandaid off.
We then follow this masochistic behavior up by using tweezers to individually rip out the stubborn little suckers who refused to vacate our faces with the wax. This is all before we ever get into swimsuit season and the waxing process that is way to graphic and mentally scarring to detail here. Just think about doing this to yourself the next time you root for your wife to go Brazilian. *Creepy fetish types, need not comment*
We women use facial scrubs that feel like sandpaper and every moisturizing serum we can get our hands on, just to keep our skin clear, soft and supple and looking beautiful. Just the way you like it.
We take careful care when applying our make-up with deliberate strokes. If we don't we will come out looking like a streaky faced clown or will continue to apply layer after layer - like when trying to paint a wall evenly - until we wind up looking like Tammy Faye Baker, and no body wants that.
The most arduous task among our of our beauty rituals is that every 6 weeks we are required to get a full 2 1/2 hour process of clipping, scrubbing (sometimes with a razor blade) referred to as a mani/pedi. It is best to have this professionally done in a specialty salon that has on hand
wine and chocolates all of the necessary equipment to make sure that this tedious task is done properly.
So fellas, the next time that you are late getting out of the door because your wife is still primping or you open the credit card bill and want to throw a hissy fit about the amount of money your wife spends at the salon, keep in mind that she sacrifices her time, pain and modesty all for you and the moment she looks into your eyes as you are puffing your chest.
Now don't forget to stop by Dad-Blogs for FatherHood Friday and some incredible links of all things Fatherhood.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Today I have some tasty little tidbits to offer you that just couldn't wait for Friday Fragments - Hosted by the lovely Mrs.4444.
- If a dog chews up the toothbrush of a 7th grade boy with a hair lip, it will take said boy 2 1/2 days to mention to you that he needs a new one. I told you that hygiene isn't their top priority.
- 7th grader, will however, think it is really fun to brush the dogs teeth with it.
- Even when you are used to receiving regular, multiple emails from teachers about chronic missing assignments from a particular Weasel, you will still cringe every time a new one shows up in your inbox.
- When you open a cringe inducing email and it informs you that a different Weasel unexpectedly is slacking on their assignments, you will do a happy dance just because it wasn't the same chronically slacking Weasel.
- When a certain Slacker Weasel actually completes a writing assignment, you may be blown away by a writing ability that you never knew dwelled inside of them. This is a description of the picture on a book jacket written by said Slacker:
New York lays in fog of the coastline. A boy close by holds a sword in his right hand and a minotaur horn in his left. The raging waves crash against his jeans and his orange T- Shirt. His shaggy black hair rushes in the wind. The salty taste against his lips. The smell of raw fish floats through the air. He is sopping and doesn't seem to care. Is he a hero or a criminal? That is hard to tell, but I have my suspicions. The sky is black and various clouds surround a single bolt of lightning.
- Mrs444 wrote a post today linking to newbie bloggers to offer them support:
"Remember back in the days when you first started blogging? You hit Publish and then waited by the computer to see if anyone would read it. You made the rounds to other blogs to introduce yourself, set up a reader, and slowly became immersed in the phenomena that is blogging. And that comment thing? It's what you checked first thing, or every chance you got throughout the day. Validation, friendship, positive reinforcement; it became your crack"
- I still do all that. Like a fiend. After almost 2 years. I can't see that feeling going away anytime soon.
- Today is March 2 and the season of mean is in full swing, but with more hours of daylight and bidding February farewell and good riddance, hope of once again being warm and enjoying outdoor activities is beginning to seep back into Weaselville.
- When Smallest Weasel wakes up at 5 am, she will be tired, whiny and falling apart by 7am. Just in time to try to get her ready for school.
- When Smallest Weasel does this 2 days in a row, you will consider stabbing a fork in your own eye; 1- Because it would be less painful to deal with. 2- Because a trip to the ER sounds like rainbows and puppy dogs compared to dealing with her and getting out of the house on time.
- I need a laundry wench.