Why is it Wednesday

He Gets it from his Father

It's why is it Wednesday and I have a huge one to tell that happened a little less than a week ago. Last Thursday, little Fredo was waiting in line to go out to recess, and the teacher warned the students none could leave until all in line were quiet. Well that Thursday the kids decided they wanted to be noisy and noisy they were. Fredo has a tendency driven by Autism to say whatever pops into his head at any given time, whether he has thought about it or not. This isn't always a bad thing because it can lead to a spontaneous show of affection, like when he blurts out that he loves me. But that being said it can also be used for evil.

While in line, focused solely on the experience of recess; they were just nearly outside the door, and growing ever impatient waiting for his classmates to quiet down, he blurted, well, screamed (possibly bellowed) the unthinkable, "Shut up you Fucking Idiots!!!!"

The Principal called that afternoon, and my first instinct was to laugh, because I can honestly say having been on that playground every kid has heard the F-Bomb being dropped before--and they didn't have to hear it from my kid. My mind raced back in time listening to a much younger Piss-boy going on about how "all the class has to do is be quiet in line and they'd get to play but could they....ooooh NOOOOOO." I'm confident that very sequence of words his younger sibling uttered at school last week, ran through his mind a thousand times. However, young Piss-boy's edit was firmly in place and he wouldn't have dared or maybe risked getting into that kind of trouble and besmirch his "permanent record."

The Principal gave Fredo five options, and he chose to apologize to the class on his own, which for him is a huge thing and I was actually proud of him for that. However it did shed light on the issue that his echolasia wasn't limited to Spongbob cartoons but also included all the frequently heard words we used. Not good because if swearing or cussing were an Olympic event, we'd be gold medalists.

I decided there and then to implement a swear jar, and charged a dollar an infraction. I emptied the laundry tip jar, and cashed in those coins, changed the label, and started charging.

Since then, I've put nothing into the jar but Rainbird hasn't been so lucky, he's put well over 20 bucks so far and even offered to get a note from a doctor to explain his apparent Turrets Syndrome. I explained that would be fine as long as he goes to HIS doctor and not just get a note from any doctor he works with. Fredo understands that since he places no real value on money, he must perform chores, which has only happened twice. Myself, I find myself surprised that I haven't contributed, and believe there are enough people here to remind me if I slipped. My self edit, has always been fairly decent when at places with children and normally restricted to my home, and the pages of this blog. I can only hope that Rainbird does learn to edit himself and this issue for Fredo will go away.

I can only hope but still it begs to ask, why is it that our children pick up on the very habits we often don't want them to. Sometimes these habits are small things but sometimes it's much bigger, like our bad words, our cynical attitudes toward our fellow man or even our good habits blown wildly out of proportion. What is it about "do what I say and not as I do." that makes it so hard to follow?

Since I'm on a Blogging Roll of Sorts

I've been posting fairly regularly lately, which is weird for me but I'm willing to continue as long as I have things to blog about. It's kind of like therapy or something, but anyway I was debating if I should even bother with this post and then I read this post by Abby and realized I needed to write about this. If no other reason to remind myself I'm not alone in this.

Now I just need to tear a page from Judy's blog, and start getting serious about losing weight.

Welcome Back

In honor of Bumble's return...


© 2008 Whimsical Ranter
All Rights Reserved

Why is it Wednesday

Hey Yaaaa ABBY!

Congrats to my blog buddy AbbyNormal and her beautiful hot and gassy new addition (waaaaay hotter than me)! Who knew something that blows hot air could be that wonderful? Even more so since it's not a politician.


Are Firefighters Always Good Looking?

Why is it that I'm walking through the grocery store, pushing my cart, paying attention to my list, when I look up and see the most gorgeous man standing in front of me. He was tall, at least 6 foot, dark hair with the most dazzling dancing sky blue eyes, I have ever seen. Muscular, dressed in blue, I was awestruck. So struck, I couldn't help myself but to stare at him, until I pushed my cart into a display sending everything flying.

My mind screamed, what do I do....what do I do! Do I run away and leave the mess, or clumsily pick up the stuff I knocked over. Thankfully a store employee came to my rescue and started picking up the stuff for me, saving me the further embarrassment, and allowing me a quick exit. I avoided further collisions, well until I was in the check out line, and spied him in the next aisle over, bending over. Oh My God. Okay, I said that out loud twice, the first after seeing him, the second, when I bumped my cart into the woman in front of me. She gave a look that could have killed, but then her eyes followed my gaze just as he was righting himself. Her eyebrow raised and she started fanning herself with her check book.

He looked at us and smiled; he's probably used to it, and for that moment I doubt either of us felt frumpy. It must be a rule that all firefighters must be good looking, because it doesn't matter where I go, where I live, or where I visit, it seems they always are.

When I got home, I looked around pondering if I could somehow set my house on fire, just to see him again. I decided that probably wasn't a good idea.

Are School Meetings Always Stressful?

In a word probably, even if it's only been three weeks since the last one, I find myself preoccupied with what has gone wrong, or if another shoe will drop. I have to keep reminding myself that it's still early in the year.

Debating the Debates

Why can't we just watch the debates then move on? Or rather why must we have endless debate about who won, who lost, and why. Both sides baring their ideas, showing soundbites that bolster their argument and for what purpose? There is nothing else for them to say. Sure they could continue to give talking points about why you don't need to pull your money out of the bank, or why it's going to take so long for the economy to recover. They could talk about the Iraq war, or ponder where Bin Laden is. But they don't want to cover any real news, they just want to know which candidate might have answered the question about "what they don't know" the best.

Finally Why Is It...

I feel a migraine coming two days before it actually hits? It's really annoying but thankfully they don't come that often. My head is still aching and probably will until tomorrow.



© 2008 Whimsical Ranter
All Rights Reserved

It's Still Hot But Again...

Summer Is Holding On By Her Fingertips

At least around here we were slammed with temperatures past the century mark, and it's followed up by what? Rain. Heavy rain & gale force winds. Surprised? Anyone familiar with the pacific northwest might say no, but to those that live here, the answer is a resounding yes. Of course we're used to summer rains, but it's normally light, and billowy and doesn't keep you from enjoying the outdoors. Not to mention few and far between.

This is different though, as people are desperate to try to enjoy the remaining weeks of August we go from hot to cold back to hot again. If that doesn't screw with your mind, body and don't forget sinuses, nothing will.

Actually this summer hasn't been too bad, but it's inevitable end has the kids climbing the walls with the kind of anticipation of rather Olympic proportions.

Speaking of the Olympics

I don't know if it's because it's been on so late at night or what, but I've been glued to the TV in renewed interest. Surprisingly so, but it could be also because there is NOTHING on TV anyway. I'm kinda enjoying the fact that all the kids can watch this with me, if they choose to, with or without video games of the hand held variety.

Could it Be?

I'm actually sad to see the summer end and school begin. Well, don't tell the kids but yeah I am. I hate the idea of getting up in the morning to get the little one on the bus, arguing with the teen about homework and everything in between. I'm dreading IEP meetings, and hearing the little one complain about how much he hates school and how they want him to learn stuff. Imagine going to school to learn stuff? I've just enjoyed not having to worry about that crap and I hate idea of it all starting again.

Contributing to the Delinquency of a Minor?

I've been buying lottery tickets and sharing them with my teen son. We use the winnings (if any) to buy more tickets...I know, I'm horrible. So far we're won 23 dollars! Not bad for a 2 dollar ticket. He's also becoming a wine aficionado.

How To Get Something Done

My wonderful husband built his own bar area in the basement room we have, it's freaking beautiful and I've commented that he could build furniture. He's afraid that I would make him build me furniture. He's always said that he can't. Whatever. Today, I'm down in the basement, and he comments that he needs a table to go beside the futon we acquired from a friend of ours. I told him to build one, but he said no he couldn't. I told him to just make a box...he got all pissy about it and now is out to prove to me that he build something better than "just a box." He never saw it coming.

Shout Out to AbbyNormal

I was driving down the road today and I saw a car and license plate read:

Aabynrml

Somehow it just made me think of you.

Welcome to Blogger!

© 2008 Whimsical Ranter
All Rights Reserved

Enough Already

Clip Me Baby One More Time (Also From the Big Fucking Deal File)

The princess of pop (read crap) has shaved her head, apparently to coordinate with her twat, got tattooed, and nearly missed her plane. She whined to the ticket counter that she had to see her boys. As if she gives a shit about her fucking boys because if she did, she would be there taking care of them not fucking partying around the fucking country with that equally dumb bitch Paris Hilton. She's out of control, the headlines read. Who cares? She's a fucking dumbshit! I can't believe that her equally dumb so to be ex husband was really the smart one in that couple. He's handed her the rope, and she's hung herself with it. And all the crocodile tears won't change it.

The Lead Story

Every fucking channel's lead story still is the fucking Anna Nicole crap that seems as endless as the men stepping claiming to be the baby's father. I'm still thinking her lawyer/boyfriend/toady whatever he was, has some serious questions to answer like why her will still had her son on it. And don't give me that, she was too distraught bullshit either. All she had to do was sign her name on a fucking cocktail napkin. If she was well enough to hold that fake wedding and swim, she was certainly well enough to do that.

That said, Howie just as executor does stand to get some money out of the deal, regardless of who gets the real assets. I'm sure he's sleeping well. Two down; just one to go.

News From Here

Which is not nearly as exciting as what CNN turned tabloid TV would report. My kitchen is sty, and any minute I'm expecting the health department to show up and put up yellow tape around it. We spent the whole weekend doing stuff. Stuff that obviously kept me from cleaning the kitchen like getting thoroughly loaded on Friday night, which was fun, and the ever popular getting up hideously early in the morning (read 9:30 AM) to go shopping with mom in law.

Rainbird was stuck taking the boys to the custom car show. I'm not sure who got the better end, but at least I was home by noon after a marathon-shopping trip. I even ran through Target and didn't spend any time looking at anything other than what my throbbing head would allow. I spent a lot of time on the pain reliever aisle; I also spent a lot of time remembering how to spell the word "aisle" I kept coming up with isle. I'm amazed at how many people confuse the two just look at google and you'll see hits like "Isles and Isles of RV's". I don't think that's what they meant to say but maybe they do mean small islands or peninsulas.

I've now digressed so far off topic I can't even recall where I was going with this. Lets change topics.

Moving Right Along

I just visited Abby Normal's blog and got a huge laugh regarding her manboob post…I won't spoil it for you but you can read it for yourself here.

A friend wrote me an email saying her daughter watches Full House. I must confess Fredo watches that show on nick at night when he doesn't have school the next day. I think he likes Michelle on the show. Pissboy will even watch it sometimes; he commented that he thought that Fredo thought Michelle was hot. I, in turn, showed him a picture of the Olson twins now.

He couldn't watch the show anymore, found it too disturbing. Uh huh, now who thinks Michelle is hot?

Jamie Sommers (aka the Bionic Woman) has taken on not only a Bionic Baby but also now she's taken on the Bionic Bison, a currently 30 lb, English Mastiff puppy.

Y2K.2?

My computer is informing me that it's updating the new Daylight Savings Time, which is just another thing to thank Congress and our fearless leader for. What exactly is the point to changing the time change anyway? I would much rather they just left the time alone, one or the other thank you and stop this silly switching back and forth all together. How much in resources and manpower is being spent on fixing this problem that the Fed for whatever their meager reasons felt it necessary to annoy the public in an unfair way.

Must they always pass laws or edicts that have serious impact with our day-to-day lives without so much as asking about the impact of their actions?

I wonder if Pat Robertson is touting that people buy generators for this debacle?

© 2007 Whimsical Ranter
All Rights Reserved