Fiddledeedee

Of my 3 children, Cailey is by far superior when using creative means to exact revenge on hapless siblings.  One such incident was chronicled here.  And another one here.

Today she astounded even me, her seasoned mother.

In an attempt to keep Jensen’s skin hydrated because of his Atopic Dermatitis, he has to take two 20 minute baths a day.  He knows the drill.  When he first arises, he trudges into the bathroom and gathers up his favorite bath toys for the ritual.

Let me pause here to explain that Cailey and Jensen were cut from the same mischievous cloth.  Mutt and Jeff.  While they tolerate love each other dearly, they also achieve extreme delight in pushing each other’s buttons.  In fact, they both have the others buttons on speed dial.

Seizing a prime opportunity to torture her brother, Cailey sauntered into the bathroom during Jensen’s morning soak.  He had only 5 minutes logged in the tub, and another 15 to go.  Cailey announced she intended to have her morning constitutional, and it couldn’t wait.

Those are not the words she used, I’m just attempting to be delicate.  She is, after all, the child that taught her brother how to burp on command.

When Jensen, who is in possession of heightened olfactory senses, realized what was happening just a mere 12 inches from where he was sitting, he began voicing his displeasure.

EEEEEWWWW.  GET ME OUT OF HERE!  THAT STANKS, CAILEY.  EEEEEEWWWW.

Followed of course by much gagging, and he even went so far as to stick his finger down his throat in an effort to hurry her up.

Cailey was unfazed, as she is suffering from a head cold, and is void of her usual keen sense of smell..  She derived a good deal of pleasure in taking her sweet time.

I stayed in the kitchen, rather enjoying Jensen’s predicament.  Because, hello?  You can’t pay for this kind of entertainment.  I would call into the bathroom at 5 minute intervals, “Cailey, are you through?”

To which I would hear a small satisfied, “Nope.”

And then more gagging and complaining from the younger brother.  THAT STANKS.  YOU’RE STANKY CAY-CAY.  EEWWWWWW.  I’M GONNA FWOH UP!

When at last she bored of the game, or her legs fell asleep, she finally left the bathroom.

Jensen continued choking and sputtering in the aftermath, as the paint was peeling off of the wall.  His 20 minute soak had concluded, and I had absolutely no trouble getting him out of the tub.  Which is not always the case.

I’m going to partner up with Cailey.  Imagine all we can accomplish if we join forces.

I know for a fact that I never want to be on the receiving end of her revenge.

Spaghetti Sauce is a staple here in the House of Fiddle.  I can toss it over some pasta, make a lasagna, or slather it onto Pita Bread and call it a Pizza Petite.

I have a fool proof recipe for Spaghetti Sauce, that tastes like you’ve been slaving over a hot stove all day.  You absolutely cannot screw it up.

When the children hear we’re having Spaghetti for dinner they all exhale a sigh of relief.  Mom can’t ruin that one.  Can’t get away with calling it “Blackened” Spaghetti.

Anytime I use the word “blackened” in a reference to dinner, it means that something unexpected was ablaze.

It is also the number 1 reason why my children are fearful of fire.  MY MASTER PLAN!  (Insert maniacal laughter.)

Anyhoo.  Here I go with my Stupid Proof Crockpot Spaghetti Sauce.  And I’m doing this from memory because I can.

Stupid Proof Crockpot Spaghetti Sauce

2 lbs. Ground Turkey (can use lean ground beef)
1/2 C. Chopped Onion
29 oz. Can Tomato Sauce
15 oz. Can Diced Tomatoes (with juice)
6 oz. Can Tomato Paste
1 Can Mushrooms (pieces and stems)
1 Package Spaghetti Sauce Mix (I use Wal•Marts GV Thick & Zesty because it has no MSG)
1 large Zucchini, Diced
1/2 Cup Red Wine (plus a few swigs for the chef)
2 Cups Water

Brown your meat and onions.  Give the crockpot a shot of no-stick spray.  Empty all the cans into the crockpot.  Stir in the package of Spaghetti Sauce.  Then add the wine and water.  (If I don’t have Fiddledaddy’s stash of good red wine at hand, then I use cooking red wine….but I don’t swig that stuff.)

Fiddledaddy, if you’re reading this, now you know where your nice red wine really goes when I let you think you drank more than you thought.

Then throw in the chopped up Zucchini and the cooked meat with onions.  And psst, I always add a little garlic powder in with the meat because I am a well known abuser of garlic.

Stir everything up, put the lid on and let it cook on low for 4 to 6 hours.

(My photography skills, and the lack thereof,  do nothing to enhance my culinary prowess.)

You can also do this on the stove top, just give it at least two hours to simmer.

This makes a huge batch.  I use one serving for dinner, and then put the rest into a freezer bag or two for freezing.

Serve over whole wheat pasta.

Have an awesome weekend!

Jensen thinks he’s a dog.

Seriously.

He thinks he’s a dog.

I believe I mentioned a few months ago that while I was recording our outgoing message on the answering machine, he took to barking in the background.

Rather realistic barking.

Prompting those who called to question whether I had abandoned my ‘no more pets clause’ in favor of adopting a canine.

I had hoped this “dog faze” would mercifully come to an end.  It has, instead, intensified.

Jensen’s allergist warned us against getting a dog while he’s dealing with all of his Atopic Dermatitis issues.  I may have kissed the doctor.  I DON’T HAVE TO BE THE BAD GUY ANYMORE.  YOU ARE, DR. ALLERGY!  YOU ARE!

Not long after this Jensen began favoring Scooby Doo Underwear and gummy snacks.  Then came the incessant barking, and walking about on all-fours.  And howling at the moon (a favorite among our neighbors).  He has been requesting that we let him pee outside, but that’s where I have to uncharacteristically side with the Homeowner’s Association and deny his request.

This behavior is not limited to the private confines of our home.  Oh no.  Jensen morphs into dog wherever we go.  Much to the horror of his sisters.

Just today we visited the post office.  I had warned Jensen the Dog to resume boy form when we entered the post office.  So that no elderly patrons would trip over him.  We found the post office strangely void of line, and Jensen saw this as an opportunity to drop to the ground.  To cool off his tummy on the cement floor.  If Emme and Cailey could have turned themselves inside out in an effort to conceal their identity as his older sisters, they would have.  Cailey of course shrieked “JENSEN!” which never fails to draw more attention to her brother’s antics.

When we climbed back into the sweltering van, and Jensen commenced with the panting, Emme mentioned to me how embarrassing it was to have a dog as a little brother.

I rather enjoyed recounting her experiences as the proud owner of an invisible dog named Barko.  Of which she claimed to have no memory.  But one of the joys of blogging is that the Barko phase is chronicled here.

We’ve also had a rather difficult time coercing Jensen the Dog into eating with utensils.  He prefers sticking his snout into his plate and eating without the benefit of civilized silverware.

Tonight at dinner, Fiddledaddy had experienced enough of attempting to get the kid to eat.  He announced to Jensen that he would simply go to bed hungry.

I announced to Fiddledaddy that it was his turn to keep Jensen’s monitor on his side of the bed tonight and if the child should wake up with hunger pains, Fiddledaddy would be the one to tend to him.

Fiddledaddy did what any mature and knowledgeable parent would do.

He placed Jensen’s plate on the floor and told him to go for it.

(please take note of the AWESOME cheap white linoleum that I thought was such

a good idea when we built this house.)

Jensen fell on all-fours and lapped up his dinner as though he hadn’t been fed in days.  And his dinner of Cheeseburger Pie, by happy coincidence, really did resemble Alpo.  With a couple of Cheetos thrown in for fun.

Emme rolled her eyes, shook her head and left the table in disgust.  Her father called after her, “HEY, THIS PARENTING THING?  WE HAVE NO IDEA WHAT WE’RE DOING!”

And then we recounted how we were afraid that Emme would starve when she was a toddler, because she refused to eat anything.  Unless it was found on the floor.

So we started strategically tossing her food to the floor and it was no longer an issue, as she would eat every last bite.

And let it be known that with the first child, my floors were considerably cleaner.

That is not the case today, with 3 children. One of whom is a dog.  We no longer have a “5 second rule.”  If it isn’t covered with ants and hair, it’s edible.

Frankly I’m just shocked that we haven’t been approached to do a how-to parenting reality show.

Please throw me a bone people, and tell me that I’m not alone.

Or feel free to suggest a good therapist.  For me.  Not the dog.

It’s that time of year again.  When a homeschooling mom’s thoughts turn to lesson plans, scheduling, curriculum choices, and keeping the liquor medicine cabinet well stocked with Wine Excedrin.

As I mentioned a couple of days ago, we will be starting back to school next month.  We began homeschooling year round a couple of years ago, because I discovered that too much down time for my children = a nervous breakdown by September for me.

Plus I found that everything I was teaching them had a way of draining out of their head if too much time lapsed.  Therefore, we will have 4 quarters with 9 weeks per quarter.  We’ll work for 9 weeks and take 2 weeks off.  And we take all of December and June off.

In years past, I’ve pulled together curriculum that matched my children’s learning styles and interests.  Which I think is an awesome way to go.  We homeschooling moms have a lot of wonderful curriculum choices and teaching styles at our fingertips.

But for me, especially knowing that I would be adding an entity known as Jensen into the mix, the planning was killing me.

This year I’m going with a curriculum that is all put together for me.  My girlfriend Diana turned me on to Accelerated Christian Education.  (It has worked wonderfully with her 2 children, as they are both bright and articulate and especially well mannered.  I’m just shooting for “articulate”, but a mom can dream.)

Anyhoo.  Accelerated Christian Education (A.C.E.) provides all the core curriculum needed, plus testing as a way to keep track of what the kids are actually retaining.

And the wonderful thing is, we will proceed at our own pace.  We don’t move on until a concept is mastered.  I could have joined Lighthouse Christian Academy as a way to help with record keeping, testing, and advising.  But since I’m good at organizing and keeping records, grades, and portfolios, I’m going to wait until Emme gets closer to middle or high school.

We’ll have our core subjects: Math, English, Creative Writing & Literature, Word Building, Science, Social Studies plus some extra Bible thrown in for good measure.  I also got the CD-Rom so they can do some of their work on the computer, such as Typing, Math Drills, and Word Building.

Now.  How am I going to upsell them on all of this?

My SIL sent me a link to a website that uses a Workbox System. Go check out the link.  I think this is brilliant.  There are many ways to implement this, and we’re using a set of drawers.  I can include their work in each drawer (one for every subject) plus a fun hands-on project when it applies to what they are studying.

I’m still setting the system up, but I found my drawers at Target.  They are 12 x 12 and have 7 drawers each.  (I got a 3 drawer organizer for Jensen, who will be an official preschooler.  Oh Lord help me.)

(These are the 12 x 12 drawers I found at Target.  One for Emme and one for Cailey.)

(Implementing the Workbox System Workstrip.  I will insert extra activities where the blanks are each day.)

(I’m using crates from Wal•Mart to keep my curriculum organized.  My crate (with answer keys) is the hot pink one.  Because I’m sassy.  Emme’s is black because she’s 9 going on 74.  Guess who has the fairy pink?)

(I print up my own journal pages using free downloads from Donna Young’s site.  LOVE HER.)

(I made up my own Daily Planning Pages using iWorks on my Mac.  Makes me look like I know what I’m doing.)

Also, I found a great website that offers a download file of folder games for Preschool through 4th grade.  I think I got the deluxe set for around $30.00.  That will provide some fun hands on learning and games.

Because my curriculum is already set up, I’ll have time to pull together fun learning activities to help keep their attention.  The premise of the Workbox system is to encourage them to accomplish goals and work more independently.  I really think it will help motivate them.  And keep me organized.

Okay, your turn.  I love hearing about what everyone else is using!  If you’re posting your own curriculum roundup, please feel free to post the link on Mr. Linky and then link back here.  I’ll leave it open for a week or thereabouts so you can join in.

Or of course you can leave your curriculum roundup in the comments section.

Just remember, if you have the heart and desire to homeschool your children, you only have to stay one day smarter than they are. 

We celebrated Father’s Day early by picking up a take-out dinner at our favorite Mexican Restaurant Saturday night.  A grave error on our part, since we can’t get Margaritas to go.

Since we had a lengthy ride home, I passed out some Salsa and Chips to keep the hungry animals quiet.

I was enjoying a tortilla chip, or 7, when I suddenly felt one lodge in my throat.  I completely blame the car next to us, because when I happened to look out the passenger side of the van, I noticed a 175 year old driver, WEARING A NECK BRACE.  Causing me to inhale sharply when I should have continued chewing.

Frankly, that was the last straw.  I had learned earlier in the weekend that my father, who has recently been declared legally blind, IS STILL DRIVING.

And then I found out that another 82 year old relative, who shall remain nameless, just bought himself A BICYCLE.  I threatened to get him some bike shorts for Father’s Day.  (I have since learned that it isn’t the right size, and he plans on returning it.  I join with the rest of the family, who love him dearly, in a collective sigh of relief.)

Where was I?  Oh yes, choking on a chip.

My vat of iced tea had long since been drunk, and I rummaged around in the food bag to pilfer through the drink cups of my offspring.  In my desperation, I forced myself to ignore the backwash.

It did no good.  A chip was most assuredly still lodged in my throat.  Sideways.  Just above my windpipe I imagined.

After we arrived home, I tried eating more.  To, you know, push everything southward.  Nothing helped.  Not even the two Churros that came with the children’s dinner.

After listening to me complain and gag for a good two hours, Fiddledaddy suggested that I google “food caught in throat” so that I could remedy the situation in a hurry and put and END TO ALL THE WHINING AND GENERAL MISERY.

What a mistake that was.  I learned that there are people who have the affliction of feeling like something is stuck in their throat FOR MONTHS ON END.  And no doctor has been able to offer any type of help.  Or that it could be an indicator of THROAT CANCER.

Other milder articles suggested that I gargle with vinegar, or drink something warm.  I settled on a nice cup of Good Earth Sweet and Spicy Red Tea.  I burned the roof of my mouth, temporarily shifting my focus.

Still, the chip remained lodged just above my esophagus.

Exhausted, I finally went to bed to await death.  My son had me up several times during the night, so I was able to dwell on my predicament.  At least I was still breathing.

When dawn arrived I poured myself a largish cup of coffee.  By the end of the second cup, I realized that I had been relieved of the offending chip corner that had plagued me throughout the night.

Next time we frequent our favorite Mexican Restaurant, I will be sure to insist that we dine inside.  Because I am starting to think I may be a little high strung, and a frozen adult beverage would do me a world of good.  And besides, the chips slide down so much easier with a Margarita.

And google can quote me on that.