I created a new home at another website and I am afraid that I tend to forget that this place is here. It seems as though if I were really brave then I would link everyone to my other home.

There are some great people that frequent my little spot here and so at the risk of losing some of those ears and eyes, take a gander. But please be warned that I tend to be more of my vocal and opinionated self at this other site. Some content may offend some viewers. If you are wary of profanity, you may want to cover your eyes.  http://onmywaytoo.blogspot.com/ 

Most of you who frequent this blogger site wouldn't want to know about it, so don't worry, you're not missing much. But good 'ol Deb found me through the Library and I was kind of excited.

Tomorrow I go skiing with the fam. That's Mom and my sisters, not my kids. We'll see.

So Mama1420 wants to know what I would do if I were on Wife Swap and what qualities I would like to share with another family. Being the ever sarcastic, fasicous, and twisted individual that I am, I couldn't be on Wife Swap. I'm not a fan of the show. And some of the "special" individuals that do participate..... that producer should get a gold star. Right in the middle of their forehead.

Sorry, I just find reality (scripted) television a minor waste of  good reading time. And as far as qualities that I would share, I'm afraid I would need to be a little more romantic about life. I'm far to practical and straight forward. I like the truth and generally, in our world, we don't get it. We're all about car wrecks in our society. You know the ones. The kind you stop cold on the parkway in rush hour traffic to stare at, like the gauker you are. I tell people the truth all the time and boy do I get some dirty looks. But, Mama1420, thanks for askin. It's always nice to be recognized for ones intellectual insight.

I'm in such a mood. Sarcasm abounds. I find myself feeling thus, due to what I would say is my extrodinary brilliance. I rule today. Perhaps I am over confident, but, why be modest. I took the bull by the horns, made an executive decision and took charge of my little pool. I'm a member (of said pool, a psuedo private club.) and I'm supposed to be on the board. But the manager high tailed it, for reasons not worth detailing, and no one else seemed to want to be in charge. So, I, came to save the day. I kind of feel like Underdog. (Hands firmly on hips, ears waving in the wind. Cape billowing out the back. Red, of course.)

So, after having dropped off the face of the earth recently, we regained our footing and cracked open the books for the new school year.

It always seems so new and exciting, for the first three minutes. Then my youngest pouts because he doesn't want to do math, my oldest whines because he has to write more than two word responses in his narratation and at some point as I watch my hair fall to the ground I wonder what the @!#$ possesed me to do this?

My sweet children unexpectedly gave me that answer. Unprovoked by yours truely we became engaged in a conversation with an aquaintence as to our motivation for homeschooling. Both my children responded without hesitation, "Oh, because we like to learn and we don't need to know how to school."

What a profound statement. We like to learn, we don't need to know how to school.

Well ladies, raise your glasses, here's to another year of educating our darlings at the kitchen table under our wings. May the lord bless us and keep us...from all of that, if you know what I mean. (Anyone ever met a good gypsy? I'm lookin' to sell one...kidding, I'm kidding.)

I reside in a peculiar region of the country. I often wonder if the predominate population believes it is the only group in the surrounding universe. Today was no exception. It's a holiday. Everything that isn't closed is packed to the gills with sweaty bodies. Stocking up on food for the grill and fire-works for the after show. (Alcohol is not required, ever. Unless you're me.) And don't forget the parade.

So as I frantically spew my thoughts onto the computer, I can hear the fire and crack outside of my juvenile neightbors participating in the festivities. Now, while I am surrounded by a off center bunch, I don't mind them...much. They are a happy bunch with funny underwear, what's not to love? Then, there's my teenage neighbor. He's going to turn me into "Mrs. Kravitz". Remember her? To date I've only had to summon the authorities on two occasions, but I am wary that tonight might make number three.

I indulge in the occasional drink. But there are things in  life that were meant to consume in moderartion and they were certainly never meant to mix with explosives, but when you're under 21..well, you are invincable. I only hope that the child still has his capacties in the morning. "Oh, officer, officer."

The summer that is. Somehow we are almost done with July. I am suspiciously elated with this year so far. Because, so far, nothing of any significance has happened. (I need a golf clap here) My life has been so blissfully uneventful, I've had nothing to share. After the plethora of life that we experienced last year, I have prayed each day in thanks for sheer bordom.

I let my children enjoy televsion on a daily basis and there are programs that I view with them that I think are fun and harmless. Or so I thought.

Thursday night is their favorite. They will perform just about any act under the sun in order to have the privledge of watching this season's new show "My Name Is Earl". I think the show is funny. It has some content that perhaps falls in the objectionable area, but we have not had to visit any undesired topics so it's all good family fun. Or so I thought.

My very articulate son, my offspring that springs forth constant verbage, was in his usual form while getting something done, I don't recall. Forgive me, my life tends to be a blur of days with repeated, mundane activities, mashed together incoherently. Not unlike what I am typing. He informed some unfortunate individual foolish enough to fein interest in what was spewing from his mouth, that his favorite show was "My Name Is Earl". When relaying this story to me later this individual's response or tone suggested that this was a less than desirable activity. My immediate thought upon their expression of disapproval? Pull the stick out of your......I'll quit while I'm ahead. That way I won't have to pull my foot out of my mouth.

Since when did it become objectionable to watch television with our children. I see objectionable material all the time and with the advent of TiVO I am fortunate enough to be able to pre-view what my children think they want to see. In most cases I watch with them in the event that the subject matter, while having been reviewed by myself and my husband, may be translated differently than expected. It works well for us. And as I listen to this individual expound on the evils of media I thought again, when was it anyone's business but mine.

People are funny. Somehow what our neighbor is doing is always so much more interesting than what we're doing. Silly people.

Hmm, It never occured to me that this was an inappropriate activity for my children to enjoy. I guess the joke's on me, or is it? As my children get older I find it refreshing that with my honesty in parenting has come an openess in my family that has worked to my benefit in our everyday living and communicating. I won't lie to you and tell you that it's all roses, on the contrary, but my honesty with them has provided me with oportunities that I know I would not otherwise have had. Most importantly, my children are completely honest with me and my husband. I tell them when I have screwed up, when I make mistakes and when I don't like being the Mom. I tell them that I like them. Which I feel is different than loving them. Loving them comes naturally for me, because they are my offspring. Liking them, on the other hand, well that's debateable on a daily basis. My Dad used to tell me that he loved me and my siblings. That he loved my Mother unconditionally. But he wasn't required to like us all of the time. I get that now. I have been informed by my children what they do when they are with their friends when I am not around, or when they commit the most minor infraction. And when they have made a major infraction.

So what does this have to do with a television program? Well, I am honest with them in their viewing. I am not afraid to say, pointedly, that they can not watch certain programs for the sexual content or the violence. I don't sugar coat it, I just say it. When it comes to "My Name Is Earl" they understand most of the humor, we laugh till our sides hurt and we talk about wether the content in the show is realistic and appropriate. Our biggest obstical has been remembering not to repeat it to other adults. (Most of their friends don't get it, so they don't waste the time and effort to relay the episodes) But this was the first time I had a condsending reaction and I found it curious. Much the same way I find people's reaction to my choice to homeschool. Weird.

There is so much psuedo-drama in my life right now I haven't the strength to be profound or contemplative. I couldn't possibly say anything worth reading. The killer is that none of the drama was created or initiated by me. (Let me tell you, in my life, that sucks. Breathe deeply the shock will wear off.)

I can usually create enough mayhem in my own life that I don't have room for anything else. Life is so slow right now, I had a passing thought yesterday that I missed winter. Then we would have more "school" to do. That wore off rather quickly as I completed my book, "Enslaved By Ducks" by Bob Tarte. Now there is an individual that I can relate to. Only in my case the enslavement is by children. (Relax, will ya. I didn't say that this was a bad thing.)

The drama that has been thrust upon me is so trivial it's grounds for a bad comedy. All I can say is this, when I grow up, I hope I can be as put together as this bunch that I have to deal with momentarily.(There is a lot of heavy laden sarcasm in all that expression.)  (And no, strangley enough, it doesn't involve my children.) Try a room full of Mrs. Cravitz. Does that help?

The trauma/drama will continue and I will continue to poke fun. Seriously, there is so much of it I couldn't possibly elaborate. It's akin to the Ladies Church Auxilary getting thier collective panties in a twist over the city planting petunias instead of impatients in the parkway in front of the church. Kapish?

Stay tuned or visit the Alter Ego.