Estimating

Clone has been struggling with estimating in her math class. She's overthinking it. I have to admit, that when I was her age, I did too. It's a genetic mishap. I've gotten much better with my estimating skills as I've become an adult. I learned to underestimate my paycheck, and overestimate the bills being paid. It might only leave a $.50 difference, but that's two quarters in my favor, and not the other way.
Estimation plays into so many things in our daily life. As a mom, each subsequent child often picks up quirks, skills, and milestones a little earlier than their older siblings did. There are more examples from which to glean ideas, and more people to influence them. And of course, Blur is a toddler who is already in my eyes a 2 year old, and has been for a while. I'm not trying to rush things. But realistically, she's doing things that a lot of kids don't do at this age. I still wish she was unable to simply stand on her tippy toes and reach the stuff on the counter in the kitchen. Reality is that she's a crafty bugger who is on the go (hence the alias), and you can almost see the gears turning in her brain. She watches what we do, then she simply does it - on a 2 year old's skill level.
Recently, we encountered the parish school's girls' basketball team practicing one day. A ball got loose, and Blur ran after it saying "I get it!" And then she started dribbling the ball just like the big kids were doing. This honestly didn't surprise me so much as entertain me. I overestimate my kids' abilities, and adjust according to performance. It's part of my slacker-mom philosophy to make the kids independent of me.
Eventually, they surprise you in a way that takes a share of the load of your shoulders. Imagine my joy as a parent, to be able to head back to the kitchen to clean up after dinner, while one of my boys sat down at the table to help Clone understand how to estimate some numbers Devildog had given her, as he excused himself, a few minutes prior. And she seemed to understand it. She and I didn't end up cranky and frustrated with it and each other either. That's really important during what I call "mind your manners week".
Don't underestimate the ability of a 9 year old girl to have an epic tantrum over math because she's frustrated and mom's patience for teaching it to her is fading faster than the sunset the first day of that Fall time change.

Soon & very soon, we shall see the three

Update on PreggoX3. She's 31 weeks (I think) and went for her OB appt today. Last week they scheduled the cesarean for October 3rd, but today's appointment revealed one of the boys is having difficulty. At this point he should be practicing breathing but he isn't. PreggoX3 thinks it's because he's smushed at the bottom of the barrel and he has zero room to move. It was concluded that since she's got another appointment on Friday, that they'll look at him again and determine if they need to deliver the babies or not. If it looks like he's still struggling, then Mama will get a round of steroids and check the kiddos again the next day, and if that hasn't helped then she'll get another round and they'll deliver early next week.

You need more than a nose

To the brunette chick driving the dark blue Jeep Liberty on Beach Boulevard:

Dumbass. You were in the RIGHT hand lane for how long before you needed to turn LEFT? Then you decided that you could cut behind the guy on a motorcycle, and then cut me off to get to that left turn lane. Yes, people. far right hand lane, ALL the way across 2 other lanes of traffic to get to the left lane. The light turned red and I rolled down my window to yell at her about cutting too close behind the guy on the motorcycle. He was not on a crotch rocket, he was on a Harley cruiser. It's a TOTALLY different personality of bike, and either way, neither motorcycle can just stop like a car can. She said she "missed him by a nose". Get real you dink, all he had to do was simply ease off the accelerator and you would've been PARKING on him.

I am so sorry your mama didn't teach you to use the common sense God gave a dog, and I hope and pray you aren't the reason someone is seriously injured or becomes a traffic fatality. I imagine you cutting off someone like Devildog driving a Bronco and you get encouraged onto the shoulder or median. Or better yet, a cop catches you doing that stupid crap and you have to go take a motorcycle class as punishment.

I have always been aware of motorcyclists on the road, as I've always known they lack the same type of stability of a vehicle with more than 2 wheels. My attention was mostly on the jackasses on crotch rockets zipping in and out of traffic and being douchbags on the road. I would also leave room behind a motorcycle in front of me, and then get road rage with people who assume I left that space for their ricer to occupy. However, since Devildog bought the neighbor's bike to save $120 a week in gas in the Bronco, I've been even more aware of all of them.

It's appalling to know that so many people in this city are selfish jerks who won't let you get over when you have your signal blinking for half a mile, and then get pissed when you finally can't wait any longer for them to stop being a lane hog and you have to cut them off because everyone behind them is failing to leave enough space to toss a tuna can between them and the next guy. I don't know if it's because I drive a minivan, but I'm going with that theory. If I'm driving the Bronco, I'm given the chance to move over to the next lane. But I have to get evil in the mom-bus. If mini-van drivers are stereotyped as drivers that will cut you off, then perhaps it's because everyone around us assumes that we're driving a hearse and we'll slow them down, so nobody lets the mini-van drivers change lanes. Likewise, not all motorcyclists drive like the unsunny side of a mule either.

And no matter what, EVERY vehicle needs a lot more space than given, so that colliding with any other vehicle is "missed by a nose", when in fact you need to be missing them by a whole vehicle's length.

All of this makes me even more grateful that my merchandising job allows some flexibility. I don't always have to be on the road at peak traffic times. It means I don't have to be in traffic full of selfish, distracted, me-first-forget-what-I-learned-about-taking-turns-in-Kindergarten drivers who fail to see beyond their own dang noses.

Bacon Hot Sauce

They'll put anything in hot sauce anymore.

The males in my house like things spicy. The 16 year old puts hot sauce on almost everything, short of deserts. I mean almost everything. So, when the opportunity presented itself to try a free bottle of Bacon Hot Sauce, in exchange for my review, I jumped on it.

When it arrived, the guys were excited to see it. My husband saw it and said "keep it out of reach of the children". He wanted it all for himself. The boys were anxious to try it. Enchiladas were on the menu for dinner, so it just made sense to try it with hot sauce. Plus we had some leftover pizza in the fridge, and apparently my son who puts hot sauce on everything but dessert liked it.

Since I spend a lot of time on Crackbook, I tagged my son and asked what he thought of it. His answer? " It was da bomb diggity :D
But could have been a little more spicy, but I like the smokey flavor it has to it"

I tasted a bit of it, and first thing I noticed was a smoke flavor, then my tongue said "oh HAI!" to the hot stuff. Or maybe it was something other than "hai". My tongue is not fond of spicy things. However, for a chick that isn't into spicy stuff, I'll tell you this stuff has interesting flavor and enough spice that you know it's there, but you still have flesh on your tongue when you're done eating.

So, if you want to try a different kind of hot sauce, then perhaps Bacon Hot Sauce should be on your repertoire. And as a belated Labor Day Sale (hey, they were busy celebrating) enter the code "labor" when you checkout, for 10% off your order. I don't know how long this code will work, and I will update the post as soon as I know one way or another.

Telling it like it is

I was talking to my neighbor, K, earlier and our conversation came around to Thursday's adventures. At the last minute, I landed some tickets to a football game, and took Clone, Beast & Devildog, while the oldest sat on the youngest at home. He was a good sport about it, despite his displeasure at the short notice. Of course we got home late, and being a school day, Clone still had to get up and get to school. K was surprised I sent Clone to school after being out late the night before. I'm not raising slackers, these spawn are being taught a work ethic early. Well, K said that it was a good way to raise them, and went on to say that the last time Clone was at K's house, K was folding hers and her 23 year old son's laundry.

Clone: What are you doing?
K: Folding mine and J's laundry.
Clone: ooh, he's LAZYYY! Heck, I'm nine and I do my own laundry! You should make him do his own clothes, he's a big boy.
K's son, J: Shut up, [Clone].
Clone: welllll, it's truuuue.

And you know she had that smarmy, know-it-all, nine year old tone and attitude when she said it too. She's becoming another one that doesn't mince words either.