Ketchup time! I mean, catch up. Right, catch up time.

It's been a busy week.  The first without a birthday or holiday in almost a month.  Fear not, we have one again next week! The cake never ends at the Walter household.

So, this week we:
  • finished the advent calendar.  We had to paint it.  Paint it again.  Put it together, with a mallet.  Get paper to glue around the 24 little flattened boxes that we had to assemble.  Assemble and glue the boxes.  Punch out the numbers.  Glue them on paper.  Cut out the paper around them.  Glue them onto the tiny now-assembled boxes.  When it's all together, complete with activities & candy, I'll post a picture.  As a side note: I'm not happy with the paper selection at Joann's, Micheal's or the LSS (local scrap store.)  Yes, acquiring the paper was not an easy task.
  • picked up chicken food
  • cleaned up lots of dog pee (Tonks had a morning, let's just say)
  • kids' therapy appt
  • kids' therapy group
  • dissected a fish
  • worked
  • taught OWL
  • Stella's pony lesson
  • craft co-op
  • sewing/treat making for 4H party
  • got gifts for secret Santa at aforementioned 4H party
  • vet appointment

I think that's all.  Oh yeah, we did some schoolwork too.  And quasi-school.  Usually I count quasi-school as a break, but this week I had to take in my computer for Sandis' presentation AND had to dissect a fish for their class so it doesn't count as a day off.  Next week I have to bring my computer AGAIN (she only got through 1/2 her report before class was done) and I have to help with making fish prints.  Sounds....great?

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Grocery list according to ???

We had the grocery list on the counter and over the weekend some things were added.

When we asked Sandis if she thought she needed to buy some awesomeness, she retorted, "Well, Stella needs some."  sigh

FYI, "wobbly cheese" is a term coined by Sandis in her toddler years to describe pre-sliced cheese.  I guess it does, maybe, wobble? Makes more sense than "fine eggs" being scrambled eggs, I suppose.

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Turkey Trapping


In honor of American Thanksgiving, I give you the turkey trapping story from this past July.  Everything here is TRUE, if you can believe that.  And if you someday decide to kill your own bird for turkey day, I do not recommend this approach.


The grandparents have turkeys that live around their house. Several times a week, the turkeys will traipse through the yard on their way to, well, who knows, turkey errands probably. What turkey doesn't have to return their library books, pick up some scratch at the store and hit the ATM on the way home?

So Sandis sees the turkeys and decides she's in love. Not normal love where you see an animal and find it interesting, draw 728 pictures of it and check out every book in the library system that is remotely related to that animal. No, this is real love. The kind of love where you decide you can no longer eat this animal. Well, except on Thanksgiving when you will pay homage to it by eating it. Don't ask me, I don't make these things up, I just report the facts. Also the kind of love where you feel you must catch one of them to take home.

Sandis comes in from outside with a broken piece of window moulding. “Can I use this?” she innocently asks. Having lived with this child for more than a week, I ask, “Why?” with a raised eyebrow. “For my turkey trap!” she gleefully replies. You know that I am a most excellent parent because I did not begin laughing uncontrollably. That is good parenting right there. You know what else is good parenting, sending her to ask her grandparents because, well, they need a laugh as well. The grandparents agreed she could use it as well as a cardboard box provided she returned them when she was done.

The trap was set and baited with a lovely turkey platter. Yes, turkey platter has been redefined. It now means “paper plate with food I imagine a turkey might eat.” Her imagination included apple slices, quartered and pitted cherries, cereal, and two powdered doughnut holes. You would think that a squirrel, ground hog, or other small creature might help themselves to the tasty turkey platter crudites
but you would be wrong. Why? Well, because Sandis put out a sign stating, “For Mr. Turky.” This way all semi-literate creatures out carousing who happened to stumble upon the lovely spread would know that this was only for the turkey. Or turky. The plan was that the trap would be left overnight. In the morning, there would be a turkey under the box which Sandis would then pick up and take home with her. This was an extremely well-thought out and detailed plan so I'm sure you can see no holes in it.

In the morning, Sandis was crushed to discover the box tipped over and most of the food gone. Everything but the doughnut holes, apparently they are fit for neither man nor beast. She was full of new plans. Weighing the box down by tying rocks to it. Sleeping beside the trap so the turkey couldn't escape. Taking a walk and lassoing all the turkeys she saw. Then, when she caught one, it was going to sit on her lap and she would feed it jelly beans. Perfect!

Sadly, we had to leave grandma & grandpa's that day so there was no chance for a second round of trapping. We did take a walk but the loop fell off of her lasso. Yeah, I don't know how that could happen either. We didn't see any turkeys anyway, which was probably good as 1) I don't know that turkey lassoing/trapping is legal and 2) catching a turkey barehanded will probably land you in the emergency room from turkey wounds. The walk was fruitful though because we managed to find a turkey feather. It won't eat jelly beans but then again, it also won't try and peck your eyes out so I'm calling it a win. 

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Up All Night

Stella decided to stay up all night on Friday.  Ok, maybe not all night, only until 5am.  And truthfully, 5am is the middle of the night in my book.  If I go to sleep around midnight, get up at 9am, that makes 4:30am the middle of the night. 

Even so, I expect the children to get in their beds at around 10pm, asleep before 11pm.  On this night, she did not follow the protocol.  Brian said she was simply not tired.  She talked.  She read.  She played on her computer.  She even spent a good hour pulling dog hair out of the wheels of their office chairs.  If that's not boring enough to put you to sleep, I don't know what is!

There was no reason for this awakeness.  She had not taken her ADHD meds late.  She hadn't had a bunch of caffeine or sugar (which don't seem to cause this anyway.)  She was excited about having seen the musical, Into the Woods, but that shouldn't have taken 7 hours to wear off.

She did need to take her night medicine.  She has a drug that calms her down in the evening.  I was asleep and she told her dad that she was told by her psychiatrist that she, "shouldn't take it after 10 or 11pm because everyone is asleep then anyway." 


You see, this is how Stella's brain works.  She heard her psych say something about medicine.  And something about time.  She swirled these around in her brain for a couple of months and came up with this story, which she totally, 100% believes is true.  She could probably recite exact statements from the doctor.

Still, she's dead wrong.

What the psych had said was that she shouldn't take her ADHD meds after noon because they could keep her up at night since they are stimulants. 

Yep, same thing.

In any case, it sounded somewhat legit to a sleepy father and he went with it, not wanting to wake me up to ask my opinion. [Note: this was very nice  of him!]  He didn't think about her melatonin.  Or benedryl (which the psych said we can give her when these sleepless nights arise.)

When the little imp woke me up at 4:30am, I gave her 2 melatonins and a benedryl.  She was asleep by 5am.  Of course, I couldn't fall back to sleep.  And I had to get up at 6am in order to judge at the Lego Robotics Tournament.  Of course.  You know what they call that? The luck of the Irish.

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Fashion Review

The children are different in so many ways.  The one jumping to the forefront today is clothing.

Take Stella.  She will wear anything.  Yes, she likes to put things together in interesting ways, but she likes just about everything - shorts, skorts, dresses, skirts.  Shirts of every variety.  Frilly.  T-shirts.  Long sleeve.  Short sleeve.  Pants that are jeans, tights, leggings, yoga pants, capris.  They're all good.

She also doesn't care if the clothes actually fit her.  For instance the other day her dad told her that her pants were unzipped, to which she said, "Yeah, that's because they can't zip."  Yes, the pants were too small for her and would no longer zip.  She had a hair tie looped through the button hole around to the button to hold them shut.  Just. didn't. care.

Hair ties are also useful when clothes are too big.  Tank top sags to your belly button? Why you just wrap up the straps with hair ties until they fit.  Skirt too large in the waist? Tie that sucker up with some hair bands and it'll fit you.  Bonus that you can wear it NOW and in 4 years when it's actually your size. 

Sandis, on the other hand, is very picky.  You wouldn't know it looking at how she dresses.  No, you'd think she throws on whatever she finds.  Clean or not.  Which is what she does, but from a carefully selected and honed wardrobe.  This wardrobe contains only:

  • Jeans - and not tight jeans.  They have to fit, so they don't fall off, but only just.  No skinny jeans for this girl.
  • Jeggings - Not just any leggings, they must be jeggings.  And you cannot call them jeggings, you must call them jean leggings.
  • Shorts - only jean shorts that fit the above jean criteria, yoga pants style shorts or soccer shorts.  They must come almost to your knees.  Except soccer shorts which may be a little shorter, but certainly mid-thigh at least.  No short shorts (and I'm ok w/that).  No capris.
  • T-shirts - the bulk of the wardrobe, t-shirts.  These must have something on them that she likes, a peace sign, a dog, or else be blue.  Preferably both blue and with a picture she likes.  And the t-shirts must be at least a size too big.  Bonus points if it will fit her dad (and yes, some of them do.)  And only, only short sleeve.  No long sleeve t-shirts.  No tank tops.  No regular shirts of any kind.
  • Socks - only if forced.  Must be fairly plain so there aren't a lot of strings inside.  And often inside out.  (I taught her the inside-out trick to get rid of the ridge by the toes.  This made sock wearing much easier.)
  • Colors - Blue, blue or blue.  Will allow some gray, yellow, green.  May tolerate red or purple.  Definitely no pink in any way, shape, form, or shade.
  • Shoes - crocs, tennis shoes or sandals (if they feel right), flip flops.  Dress shoes cannot have any bows, ruffles, extra straps, flowers or pointed or excessively rounded toes.  Definitely not brown.  Or, of course, pink.  Being old and having holes in them, soles falling off, straps broken - bonus.
  • Sweatshirts/fleeces/hoodies - she loves these but they must be big.  Really big.  Fit her father big.  And she wears them until they are dirty enough to walk on their own and I threaten to cut them off her body and throw them away.  
  • Dresses/skirts/skorts - out of the question
  • Bras - don't even talk about that, mother!

Still, with all these restrictions and complications, we managed to find holiday outfits for both of them.  At Clothes Mentor no less (for those not local, it's a second-hand women's clothing store.)  I would put pics here but it is too early for that.  You'll just have to wait!

Want a hint? Sandis' outfit is blue and includes pants.  You never would have guessed, right?! Stella has a flow-y dress and some not-so-high heels.  Another non-surprise, though there is a vast range from which Stella had to choose while you could guess what Sandis would pick in one guess.  Or less.

And I know that I have girls because their jewelry cost more than their outfits.  Granted the outfits were second-hand and the jewelry wasn't.  Still, boys wouldn't have that issue, would they?

Sidetrack (see I'm warning you. You're welcome): Of course, boy outfits have much less variety, in general.  My husband often laments the lack of cool colors in men's running shoes.  Seriously, running companies, they are going to wear these running in the woods, not to the boardroom, give them something besides gray, black, darkblueindisinquisablefromblack.  Browsing for the girls at the local Once Upon a Child, I noticed for boys they had your choice of black, blue, tan and army green pants.  That's it.  Shirts they'll throw in red, maybe a green or yellow.  Really? I think guys, especially kids, would appreciate a bit more color.  At least they are getting some cool graphics these days.  It used to be your choice of trains, cars or dogs.   Not that those are bad, they just need to be the start, not the entirely.

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43 and counting....

Today I am 43 years old.  In the spirit of having a long list to commemorate each of the last 43 years, and to show that you can still teach an old dog new tricks, here are the 43 (mostly) new things I experienced during the last 366 days, in no particular order.

  1. Chickens! I've wanted chickens since I was 14yrs old and the dream became reality this past July.  Now about those goats....
  2. Rabbits.  Well, rabbit, at the moment.  We're still waiting for rabbit #2 to be old enough to come home with us.
  3. Living with half electricity.  Yes, it was fun to have no dryer or oven/stove for a month.  And have random outlets/light switches work.  NOT! That needs to never. happen. again.
  4. Knitting mittens! Yep, my first mittens, the piggies for Stella's bday.
  5. Owning a netbook.  Tiny laptops FTW!
  6. Meeting TheBloggess, one of my favorites :)
  7. Visiting the arcade in Manitou Springs
  8. Getting a new dog, our 2011 family Christmas gift, Tonks
  9. Read 48 books
  10. Another leap year!
  11. New quasi-school location.
  12. A new seasonal job (helping a friend pack boxes at the holidays)
  13. A new permanent job (taking pics of houses for insurance companies) that works way better with my schedule
  14. Quitting an old job.  Goodbye to the Miramont.  It wasn't a bad job, but its hours were understandably inflexible.
  15. Started a new 4H club with the girls.  The one we chose has a dance team for Stella, which was the main reason we chose it, but also because of the meeting time.  So far, so good.
  16. Met Stan the rabbit man and acquired nest boxes, etc for the bunnies.
  17. Left the NCHA leadership role to someone else.  Actually, many someone elses - they now are a non-profit with a board, of which I am not a member.
  18. Led a Brownie Troop.
  19. Left Girl Scouts altogether.  I love GS in theory, in practice, it's tough to coordinate and organize and we have enough on our plate.
  20. Kept this blog rolling for a YEAR.  Last November was when I decided I wanted to make it a real journal and I've kept on going.  First blog that I've really stuck with.
  21. Started teaching my 5th year of OWL
  22. Had Buckhorn not at Buckhorn.  Our church retreat was impacted by our fires this past summer so we moved it, temporarily, to the YMCA.  How we managed to pull that off, I'm not sure.  Well, I think I do know - a lot of work by my cohorts and myself.  
  23. Got a new roof on our house
  24. Paid a record $3000 to fix my car.  What a PITA that was!
  25. Used my cellphone more than I ever have, including now having a monthly plan.  What in the world is happening to me?!
  26. In the words of the infamous Stephen Colbert, I saw "America...[elect] its first black president for an historic first second time."
  27. Started my first ever dollhouse.  A haunted dollhouse.  It is so cool.
  28. Didn't decorate for Halloween.  Seriously, I don't think I've ever NOT decorated for Halloween before.  It was amid the 1/2 power time so I just wasn't in the mood.
  29. Lost my driver's license for the first time ever.  Thankfully, it was a renewal year anyway.
  30. First identity theft.  The bank called to see if I was in Texas buying multiple cars worth of gas.  Nope.  
  31. For a short time, worked 3 jobs at once plus got ready for the holidays (poorly)
  32. Got Stella's meds figured out
  33. Had Sandis start on her own meds.
  34. Made a living succulent wreath
  35. Had living grass easter baskets
  36. Watched all of Lost
  37. Only cut my bangs, therefore I have long (for me) hair
  38. Had 2 kiddos with chicken pox and the flu.  I only got the flu because I did the CP as a kid.
  39. Saw the full solar eclipse (not my first, but my first since I was 9 yrs old!)
  40. Went on my first Girl Scout campout - which was aborted after one night due to snow!
  41. Had 5 dogs in my house for a week.
  42. Learned how to take care of horses (while their family is away.)
  43. Joined the Harry Potter Knitting House Cup as a Hufflepuff (even though I am always a Ravenclaw when sorted)

Whew! I didn't think I could make it to 43 and not only did I, but I had a couple other minor ones I could have added.  How awesome is that?

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Due to old age, senility and just generally having children around annoying me, my last blog post was published prematurely.  It has been taken down so that it can be edited and completed.  It will be back later in its entirety.  We here at Chaos Ending Soon (and by "we", I mean "me") apologize for the inconvenience.


Have you ever had one of those days that starts out so well and then for no reason goes south? And you've no idea why you are so irrationally angry? No? Just me? Figures.

Anyway, it started out well because I slept really, really late. I love that. After getting up, breakfast was made for me. Then I sorted through the rest of the kids' clothes. They now each have one neat basket of folded, clean clothing. Our laundry room looks like much less of a disaster. The two gigantic bags have been passed on to another family who can use some and pass on the rest.

The family worked together and got the house reasonably clean for the weekend sleepover for Stella's birthday. The girls only lost two days of computer privileges during the cleaning process (for sneaking back to their computers to play when they were supposed to be cleaning.) Not too bad.

Stella's first friend arrived and friend #2 was on the way. She was happy (and a bit crazy.)

Her sister, even though she was totally included in the games, became surly. I asked her to get ready and we could go look for shoes for her holiday outfit and the fun began. A full scale crying, wailing tantrum over not having ANY socks. Probably because we never give our children socks. We make them steal them from other people when they see them lying about unguarded at parks and swimming pools.

Or maybe, she just had to go to the laundry room and get some.

Oh, yeah, that second one.

Then her boots don't fit. They are too tight. The boots we bought maybe a month ago. And they were too big then. And she doesn't have any other shoes. Right. Finally, after threatening to leave without her, she got in the car with me and cried only most of the way to Loveland.

Got to the grocery store after dropping off spare clothing and went to the shoe department to check for holiday shoes. Well, Sandis doesn't like these or those or any other shoes that exist unless they are 1) blue and 2) meet some unknown criteria in her head. Sandis has this thing she does where she screws up her face, turns partially away while flailing her hands and making vaguely grunty noises of displeasure. She was doing that. A lot.

I decided we were DONE in the shoes and moved to the grocery list.

Can't find curry powder. Not sure where coconut milk is at this store (it's different at each store, even if they are the same chain!) Called Brian and found the milk, not the curry. Moved on to trying to find canned roasted tomatoes. Looked through all the Mexican food and all the canned tomatoes. Twice. Tried calling home again. The phone was answered and I could hear little girl voices in the background but then was disconnected. Tried again. Same thing.

Now I'm angry and annoyed. And I realize, on top of all this aggravation, I haven't taken my meds. Fuck. That means that my irrational anger isn't going to dissipate. I say "irrational" because it is totally out of proportion to the situation and it doesn't abate. After yelling, taking my meds, spending a good half an hour with no annoyances and writing all this, I am just now starting to feel better. Starting.  And any little thing is likely to set me off again.

And that is how a day can start well and go to hell. Too many little annoyances build up and then I explode. Except usually I have medication so I don't explode - they make people like my friend Deanna think I'm the calmest person on earth. I'm not, I just hide it well. Usually.

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What are you trying to say?


Fifi [FEE-fee]
A dish of Italian origin consisting of a flat, round base of dough baked with a topping of tomato sauce and cheese, typically with added meat or vegetables

Ah, the older child.  All her life since beginning to speak, she has had her own ideas on how the English language is pronounced.

Take for instance when she was a toddler.  We asked her what she wanted to eat, to which she replied "fifi."  Having no French poodles to fry up, we ignored her request.  She was quite put out.  Fast forward to a trip to the grocery store.  Browsing through the frozen foods, Sandis points to the frozen pizzas and exclaims, "fifi!"  Yes, "fifi" meant pizza. How could we not know?

Preschool she moved on to some new and interesting pronunciations.  She added syllables and emphasis was always, always on the second syllable.  Some notables include:

wolves - wolf-is
iron - eye-wren
Saturn - Sat-er-in
pattern - pat-er-in

This was before she could read, mind you, so she'd only ever heard these pronounced correctly.  Still, she pronounced more or less phonetically.  (Ironically, she did not learn to read phonetically.) 

Then there was her Boston accent phase.  This was after learning to read, and after pronouncing words more or less correctly up until this point.  Yes, Sandis would be off to the shouw-wah to get clean after which you could find her drawring a picture.

Now, at nearly 11 years old, she still hasn't gotten over her mispronunciation, and associated inability to actually say it correctly when she tries.  Lately, the sherpa lining in her sweatshirt is made of shepra or shepra and Pecos Bill's name is Pea-cos. 

In her defense, I think she might get it from me (with the exception of the Bostonian part, not sure where that's from.)  When I was a toddler, I dubbed the living room the "knicker."  My parents say there was no know reason for this and as I got older I just dropped the word.

And I often make up pronunciations for words I don't know which are not even close to what they should be.  Why? Well, because phonetics makes absolutely no sense to me.  How any one can sound out cuh-ah-tuh and get cat is beyond my comprehension.  Besides, if I can read it in my head and know the definition, it doesn't matter what it sounds like unless I actually have to say it.  And, it probably won't come up in conversation otherwise I would have heard it, in which case I would know how to say it.  Right? Yes.  I'm going with yes.

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Yes, the dog puked not once but twice this morning.  Brian got the honors of the first clean up.

Stella took forever to get ready, as usual, but was finally dressed when she disappeared.  As I searched the house for her, she came in from outside, chicken crap all down her shirt and skirt.  Couldn't just be one or the other article of clothing.  Oh no.  And why, WHY, did she have to go outside and pick up the chickens when she was already late for quasi-school?

Finding new clothes is not as easy as just finding another clean outfit.  No, you must have a skirt.  Not that skirt, a twirly skirt, mo-ther.

At last, two kids in the car, reasonably dressed and, as far as I knew, no more messes to clean up.  Stella breaks a thread in her new mittens I knit her (how the heck did she do that!) and they need to be fixed.  She got a hole in her new stuffed pig she got yesterday.  Sandis has a hole in her new toy seal from Tuesday.  Mommy, mommy, mommy, when are you going to fix them.  Today? Tonight?

They are gone to quasi-school and can place no more demands, can create no more messes, cause no more chaos, for me anyway, at the moment. 

Here at home, no more dog puke was seen, hallelujah!

Things are looking up already.

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Stella is nine years old today. NINE!

Nine short years ago, I was:
  1. relieved to be done with labor
  2. not at all tired
  3. knowing I'd be paying later for that, "I'm so awake!" feeling
  4. watching my toddler give her baby sister toys, not believing how her parents could have neglected this important part of having a child
  5. smelling that new baby smell (which is good, unlike new car smell which is hideous)
  6. realizing again how tiny they are when they first are born
  7. learning how to breast feed two.  At the same time.
  8. putting teeny, tiny newborn prefolds on my teeny, tiny baby, and realizing the newborn size were big on her
  9. starring my TWO children in amazement

Over the last nine years, I've gotten to know that wee person.  Here are some things I've learned about her:
  1. She loves to share, if you ask.  If you take, you have a tiger by the tail.
  2. She loves all animals from the tiny aphid to the giant whale.  The squeals when she sees spider are the same as for a puppy.
  3. She walks the walk, her love for animals has led her to become vegetarian.
  4. If you think there are two ways to do something, she'll show you a third option.
  5. Sitting still is over-rated, even for eating. 
  6. Everything should be fair.  Everything.  
  7. She has never been a morning person.  Not even when she was baby.
  8. She will do whatever it takes to learn something she wants to learn.  It may frustrate and annoy her (and therefore, you) but she WILL learn what she wants to learn.
  9. She is the absolute best source of blog fodder ever born!

Stella, my beautiful girl.  I love you more than life itself.  I have no doubt that you can accomplish anything you want in life. 

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Remember how our dog, Sirius, has had some recent medical issues that we thought were lymphoma? Well, maybe not.  The lump on his neck is nearly gone after a week and a half of steroids.  We are hopeful that means he doesn't have lymphoma after all.  Have a message into the vet.  Time will tell...

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Excuse me, but...

I'm sorry, but November 6th is not election day.

Ok, so it technically is election day, but at our house that day has greater meaning.  Beyond the petty concern of who will run our country for the next four years, it is my baby girl's birthday.  She will be NINE years old.  Yes, the last year before the double digits.  [BTW, how the hell did that happen?]

It's a big deal! Remember how important birthdays were when you were a kid? How you waited for your special day? The day with cake and ice cream and presents and whateveryouwanted for dinner and everything focused on YOU so much that your siblings were green with envy? It was exciting.  It was wonderful.  It was magical.

I don't want that spoiled by election hoopla.

So that day I will not be on FB much or listening to NPR non-stop.  I may just have to have a teensy peek at the TV results while she's off playing with her brand new whatchamajigger.  But the focus needs to be on the BIRTHDAY not the election.  Election results won't change due to my obsession with watching/listening to/reading results.  That is my mantra.

So if you don't hear my whoops of victory or wails of defeat on Tuesday, be assured, that they will be there on Wednesday.  But Tuesday is just too significant a day to muddle up with politics.

And yes, I did vote already.  I'm not skipping that, just not doing it on actual election day, which is 100% ok.  Hell, even the President voted early!

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And also vote on Tuesday in the actual elections, if you haven't already.  It's IMPORTANT.  Really, it is.

NaNoWriMo and/or NaBloWriMo

So I'm trying this NaNoWriMo thing again.  Of course, I'm not following the rules.  You can't make me NaNoWriMo cops that don't exist.  NaNoWriMo cops couldn't possibly exist because their name would be so long (and ridiculous) that they couldn't fit it on the badge they'd have to wear.  In any case, I am flaunting the rules.  I am not writing a novel.  I'm also not trying to hit the word count goal.  Just trying to write.  We'll see how it goes!

I'm going to try for a blog post each day.  We'll see how that goes too.

I would love to combine these and post what I've written each day but I don't know that I can.  I need to protect the non-innocent.  Maybe I'll get brave.  Or maybe I'll figure out how to make those things that are painful, humorous.  Not sure either of those things can happen in a month's time when I've had a lifetime so far. 

This is your friendly reminder to vote. All you do is click, which takes you to the website where you then do nothing. Or you can do something, but you don't have to do something. It's easy. Thanks :)

Out of the mouths of babes...

My children go to quasi-school where yesterday they apparently held mock presidential elections.  Being that this is a "school" attended by homeschoolers, it is generally a conservative crowd.  That is why it is especially nice interesting terrifying when your eight year old comes home to tell you not only did she vote for Obama, but exclaimed to all in hearing range, "Paul Ryan? My mom wants to punch him in the face!"

Ok, statement is true, but not one I generally share with those outside a close knit circle of friends.  After all, people I know support various candidates this election cycle, and I respect that.  I don't, however, respect Paul Ryan in the slightest.  I do think he is a giant douche canoe and does deserve to be punched in the face.  Not that I would ever actually punch anyone, face or elsewhere.  Even those as deserving as our vice presidental hopeful.

This concludes my election coverage for 2012.

This is your friendly reminder to vote. All you do is click, which takes you to the website where you then do nothing. Or you can do something, but you don't have to do something. It's easy. Thanks :)