So, we watched the second Diary of a Wimpy Kid movie over the weekend and found it even better than the first one. Side-splittingly funny, especially given the plot of brothers - Doug and Rodrick's constant fighting - and Fish/St. Nick's similar inability to get along. The movie got to the part where Mom starts bribing the boys with fake money to spend time together, and Fish/St. Nick got excited.
"Mom Bucks! Can we do Mom Bucks?"
Huh, why not? Up until now we've been having Marble Races. Each kid has a jar, they do chores and put marbles in the jar. Whoever fills their jar first gets to pick where we go for dinner on Friday night, and the race starts over. Now picking a spot to eat ended up being not enough of a carrot, so we decided each marble would be worth ten cents. The jars took about 100 marbles to fill all the way, so that's $10. With the change, when the race "ended" each child got paid according to their marbles (and the one with the most still got to pick a restaurant).
But St. Nick always seemed ahead - maybe because mowing the lawn earned him, oh, eighty marbles. And Fish/Pie would lose steam with the slow, "one drop in the bucket" filling of their jars.
The solution? Mom Bucks! Stolen blatantly from Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rodrick Rules. The boys wanted me to use Monopoly money. Likely so they could sneak more bills out of the game box when I wasn't looking (or buy up old Monopoly games like Rodrick did to have Unlimited Mom Bucks). Hahah. I'm so much smarter than some fictional mom. I designed my own Mom Bucks.
Now the kiddos can earn "money" for the work they do around the house. And I get a good excuse to spend a day playing with PhotoShop.
I also bought some mark-down toys and trinkets to set up a Mom Buck store. They can spend their cash at the Mom Shop, or they can trade it in for real dollars. The catch? Each Mom Buck is worth *half* in cash (so 10 Mom Bucks equals 5 dollars). A little lighter on the Mom Wallet.
We have a gorgeous, absolutely beautiful custom made farm table in our dining area. Beautiful at first glance. Sit down at it however, and try to eat and you’ll discover a few not so lovable details. Like glasses will tip over if placed in just the wrong spot. Your clothing will catch on splinters in the chairs or the edge of the table. Some of the plugs look suspiciously like wood filler. And if you look closely, the gaps between boards just might be packed with yesterday’s (last week’s?) noodles, rice, etc.
Hubby and I recently got serious about taking back our health, and the first question we faced was: “How do we work in exercise?” The conversation went something like this:
Me: We could put the treadmill back in the bathroom?
Him: Um. No.
Me: There’s that gym up by McDonald’s (why is this our reference point? I don’t know.)
Him: But when?
Me: You could go before taking N to school in the morning!
Him: Would you really get up that early?
Me: Are you kidding? We’re talking about you here, not me.
Every year my parish holds a garage sale to raise funds for the VBS and Preschool programs. It has fast become one of my favorite events and helping at every stage, in my mind anyway, absolves me from taking part in the actual VBS. Anyhow, a sale of this size is a huge undertaking. Like crazy huge involving weeks and many, many, many hours from lots of people. But it's so worth it, and apart from the usual reasons about helping others and serving the community, here's why…
A couple days ago I had to Google, “What do middle aged women wear to indie rock concerts?” I came up with lots of pics of denim and leather and high-heeled boots. Not much different than what I expected young women to wear, except fewer backless shirts.
When I picked up my also-middle-aged friend (ok, not really, we're still young! Middle age means, like 79, right?) she was wearing the requisite jeans, tank top, jacket. I'd opted for...
The beginning is always the same. Middle of the night, a child cries, I listen and hope. Perhaps sleep will return. A fool's hope, I know.
Flashback to 1985-or-so. More than anything else in the universe a certain little girl wanted a dollhouse. A real dollhouse made of wood, with real wallpaper and tiny furnishings
As promised, a post about the building of our chicken coop. No lessons or measurements or blueprints because it's been a while now. Just lots of pictures and a few words.
A while back I was complaining to someone about how much I hated making lunch for the kids every morning.
This is my lunch, if you can call it that. I used Instagram to make this chicken-flavored McNugget look as unappetizing as possible, which wasn't hard.
In a feeding frenzy, a literary orgy, we gave each kid a limit and a basket, and we flew through the shop.