Too many Jews in one room?

Check out beloved saint Jimmy Carter's irrational opinions on, not just Jews, but people who sound like they COULD be Jews.

The Other School

Ever since Son #1 returned to public school, we have discussed the social ills he has seen there. Many of them (the threat of violence, the disrespect for teachers and learning, the racial epithets, the aspiration to welfare cheater status) have been neatly summed up in the person of one particular classmate. This kid scares me.

As I have shared Son #1's stories with my friends, the general consensus has been that this type of problem, this type of student, is to be found only at the school my son attends. The Other School, the Better School in the Nicer Neighborhood, doesn't have these issues, because people like him do not go there.

Yesterday, Son #1 came home with the news that Mr. Future Baby-daddy is no longer causing problems in class. He transferred, last week, to The Other School.

So, good luck over there, guys.

UPDATE: It turns out Mr. Future Babydaddy was not transferred, after all. He just SAID that, to the teacher, so he could hide out in the bathrooms all day. Sweet.

In light of California's new "anti-spanking" bill...

Here are a list of other things I would never do with my cat:

Breastfeed
Make it wear a diaper
Push it in a stroller
Take it to the park
Take it out for lunch
Encourage it to sleep at night
Let it eat off of the dining room table
Read it bedtime stories
Let it eat from my spoon
Play ring-around-the-rosie
Teach it it's wrong to kill someone for fun
Make it different meals, several times each day
Invite it's friends over to play
Call my mom to tell her about something adorable the cat did
Make it wear clothes
Take it to concerts, museums, the county fair and the beach
Trick-or-Treat
Apply temporary tattoos
Give it it's own bedroom

Perhaps this (along with all the other glaring omissions on my pet parenting list) makes me a terrible cat owner. But trust me, I love my cats. I even kinda like my dog.

And I'm not particularly pro-spanking. Son #2 was spanked, once. Sons #3 and 4 probably got spanked, I guess, along the way, although I don't actually remember any specific incidents. Son #1 could have used a lot more spanking than he got, but really it just was not my way of raising him.

And, yes, I have seen people whale on their kids in a way that seemed abusive, or at the very least ineffective.

The point is, people are not cats. We have different ways of dealing with our children than our pets. And people who don't have children shouldn't tell me how to parent, any more than I should tell you how to raise your bird.

Palpitationista

This whole "motherhood" gig is, currently, on my last nerve. I need a few days where I am not in charge of the minutiae of children's lives. You know, the "did you do your math-did you make your bed-did you brush your teeth-stop hassling your brother-eat a piece of fruit-I TOLD you to put your laundry away-this essay is too short-Wonder Bread is not a vegetable and you know it" that is my personal Gregorian chant.

I am sick of it.

I hate nagging people. I would rather do things myself, I would even comfortably see things not get done, if the alternative is to nag. Unfortunately, as Mom, I am required by God, the Universe, the State of Maryland and human decency to do what I can to train these boys up to be responsible citizens.

Which basically means that nagging, and watching over, and correcting, and waiting, and reminding, and watching, and waiting, and bobbing back and forth between all the boys for my every waking moment, is the life I chose. Which sucks.

What do I want?

I want the boys to wake up with out me having to bang on their door or hover over their beds. I want them to make their beds, shower without using up all the hot water, and get breakfast before 8:30 without me saying anything. This would make daily trips to the gym not just possible, but enjoyable.

I want them to start their school work, and work steadily on it, without talking much aside from asking me for clarification. I want them to turn in completed assignments without nagging from me. I want them to check the chore chart on the fridge, and DO the chores, without nagging from me. I want trash in the trash can, laundry in the hamper, dishes in the dishwasher and deodorant on the armpits. This would make keeping the house clean a simple chore, and family outings easy to arrange.

I want them to eat the dinner I prepare, without complaining. That would make cooking feel less a waste of time.

All in all, I feel like I'm not asking for all that much, really. Just enough to make homelife pleasant, instead of a constant pulling of teeth. If they would just do what they need to do, without so much of the dragged-backward-through-the-hedges drama, I know they'd find they'd have a huge chunk of free time every day, too, and a mom who isn't on their case. It's a total winner.

On the other hand, I might as well expect a million dollars to fall out of my purse.

MLK Day

Son #3 woke up, confirmed the date, and said, "We celebrate Martin Luther King Day by not going to school. I'm SURE Martin Luther King would just lovethat.

Thanks, Noodle Man

The inventor of Ramen died last week. The Sons and I staged an official moment of silence.

What was Mom-mom thinking?

In honor of Christmas, my boys each received what Son #1 calls, "The gayest candy EVER."