The Dog Formerly Known as Gretta

My husband is currently watching a show called "American Farmer."

?

Yet, he sleeps during The Superbowl.  And that's all I have to say about that.

I promised myself on Sunday night that I would blog everyday this week. And here it is . . . almost Thursday.  I am such a liar.  But we have had an eventful week!

I hope you have your party pants on.

On Monday, we went to our homeschool co-op.  Which was lovely per usual.  Afterwards, we went to Target, and oh my lands, how I have missed Target.  I have not been in there in ages!  It is a truly a delight.  As we were checking out, Handsome Dude decided to become curious.

HD:  Mom.  Hey, MOM?  Why is that girl working?

And he is pointing right at our cashier.

Me:  Yes, mm-hmmm.

I decide to frantically search for a piece of gum to stick in the boy's mouth.  Because I know not what he is going to say.  But it probably won't be good.

HD:  WHY IS THAT GIRL WORKING?  WHY DO SOME GIRLS WORK AND SOME DON'T?  YOU DON'T WORK.  WHY IS SHE WORKING AT TARGET?

Why do you care, O Inquisitive One?  The strange thing is every single female family member he knows works, except for one of his aunts.  So, in reality, he should think it is weird that I don't work.

Friendly Target Associate:  Well, young man, I don't have a husband, so I have to pay for all my own bills and food and stuff.  That is why I work!

Bless her heart.  She was so cheerful.  And my boy just looked at her and walked away.  He is lovely, isn't he?

On Tuesday, I woke up determined to figure out some way to make my homeschooling life more organized.  I told Sweet Pea we should consider making a school room out of the play room.  I hopped in the shower and when I got out, she had already started moving desks into the playroom and teaching her sister how to indent the first sentence in a paragraph.  Which is humorous, actually, because Sweet Pea REFUSES to indent the first sentence in a paragraph.  But I digress.

We made up a school room and the kids all got into helping.

Here are the boys.  They are "learning."  And when I asked if they could smile for a picture, they refused.  They said they were too busy.

And about 10 minutes into our morning, the boys had came and conquered, leaving our nice neat school area looking like this:

And this:

Check out those ginormous firetrucks.  They were gifts from my in-laws.  Oh!  And they make lots of grand noises, too!

Grandparents.  Giving large, obnoxious toys.  Because they can.

Here is a shot of Daisy Mae during a spelling lesson:

I use All About Spelling with her.  She is spelling the word "problem."  As in, "I have a problem with the fact that my walls are still peach."

The girls asked me why I was taking pictures during school.  I told them to not worry about it.  Then they squealed and giggled and squealed:

"Mom!  Are you making us a yearbook?!"

Because they are delusional like that.

I am playing around with the idea of "workboxes."  Have you heard of these, O Fellow Homeschoolers?  I got the idea from this blog post.  I am pretty sure that a new school room, a giant dry erase board, and workboxes are going to solve all of my homeschooling angst.  Do not tell me otherwise.  Let me have my moment.

And, yes.  I am going to get a dry erase board.  My husband, along with all of his muscles, will be bringing home a . . . wait for it . . . wait for it . . .

4 foot by 8 foot dry erase board AND he will be installing it on the morrow.

!

Oh, be still my heart!

These are the things that excite me now.  I told him it could be my Valentine's Day present.  Because we are uEber romantic like that.

The ''e" in uEber is brought to you by my know-it-all little sister,  Sister Meagan.

Sister Meagan:  Acting like the big sister since she graduated from the big college in 2010.

Fun Fact Little Sister:  I graduated from college, too.

Sister Meagan is acting all needy-like lately and needing lots of attention just because she got a dog.  She named the dog "Gretta."  And I approved.  But then she switched to Eleanor for some unknown reason.  And then I went on with my life and forgot all about the dog because, hello, I have other things to think about like DRY ERASE BOARDS.  So she sends me a text tonight that says:

My dog's great.  Thanks.

This means Sister Meagan is hurt by my lack of enthusiasm for The Dog Formerly Known as Gretta.  Truth be told, I really want a dog.  But an easy dog.  Like one I don't have to deal with.  And I want to name her or him Norma Jean Riley.

All my life I have wanted a pet named Norma Jean Riley.  And a ridiculously large 4x8 dry erase board.

100 (meaningless) points to anyone who knows where I got the fantastic name "Norma Jean Riley."

And no.  You can't steal it.