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Showing posts from October, 2007

The Constitution of The Laundry Room

By Karrie McAllister I, The Mom of this, The Laundry Room, in order to form a more perfect home, establish peace, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the remainder of my family members, promote the general cleanliness, and secure the wearability of clothing for myself and my family, do ordain and establish this Constitution for The Laundry Room. Article 1 : The Branches of PowerAll Power herein granted shall be vested in a sole ruler, which shall consist of The Mom, because she is the only one who will accomplish anything in The Laundry Room. Article 2: The StateThe State of The Laundry Room shall be under the control of The Mom at all times, and should never be blamed on The Mom. The Mom typically has other things to do besides just the tasks of The Laundry Room, and anyone whining about the speed at which items move through The Laundry Room shall be punished by hand-washing gym socks without the assistance of rubber gloves. Amendment 1: Freedom of reachThe remaining members ...

A pocketful of…mom

By Karrie McAllister I play this little game every morning. It’s kind of a race against fate. The object? I must wake up early, feed the dogs, get the paper, make coffee, drink coffee, eat breakfast, pack a lunch, and assemble two book bags before the sound of grouchy morning feet come stomping down the stairs demanding chocolate milk and cartoons. The prize? Serenity. Needless to say, I rarely win. But that doesn’t stop me from setting the alarm clock early every school day. Someone asked me why I don’t just put on some sweats and throw the kids into the car, and while my answer that day was “because I don’t like sweat pants,” now that I think about it, it’s really about the preparation for the day. I want to make sure that I have everything as ready as possible for my kids before sending them off to school, even if it means a little less sleep for myself. And while I really enjoy my morning coffee, it’s packing those bags that gets me out of bed in the morning. For my preschool...

The Spicy Bush

Some kids can name every type of truck. Some kids know each and every Polly Pocket doll name. My kids are learning their nature, which my husband says makes them look like big nerds, but I think makes them look pretty cool. A few months ago, we were taking a walk at a local state forest preserve and met up with a friend who frequently walks there for exercise. We decided to do one loop together, and because we usually point out plants and animal signs along the way, my kids (then 3 and 5), did their normal thing. "Hey, mom, pointy leaves equals red oak!" "Ooh, jack in the pulpit!" "Did you hear that blue jay?" And so on. Needless to say, she was very impressed that a three-year-old knew more than she did. But our favorite (and the most impressive plant in their eyes) is the spicebush. Found in rich, damp soils all over the eastern US, it has these spectacularly scented leaves. It's a lemony scent, and you can use the leaves, berries and twigs to...

The Spicy Bush

Some kids can name every type of truck. Some kids know each and every Polly Pocket doll name. My kids are learning their nature, which my husband says makes them look like big nerds, but I think makes them look pretty cool. A few months ago, we were taking a walk at a local state forest preserve and met up with a friend who frequently walks there for exercise. We decided to do one loop together, and because we usually point out plants and animal signs along the way, my kids (then 3 and 5), did their normal thing. "Hey, mom, pointy leaves equals red oak!" "Ooh, jack in the pulpit!" "Did you hear that blue jay?" And so on. Needless to say, she was very impressed that a three-year-old knew more than she did. But our favorite (and the most impressive plant in their eyes) is the spicebush. Found in rich, damp soils all over the eastern US, it has these spectacularly scented leaves. It's a lemony scent, and you can use the leaves, berries and twigs to...

And we have to think, did God make toilets?

It’s really my own fault. I’m always pressuring my kids to think. “Before you talk, THINK.” “Use your brain and THINK.” Or the all-time classic, “Sit here and THINK about what you’ve done!” But all the yelling aside, there’s not much actual thinking done by kids these days. Serious thinking. Critical thinking. Even creative thinking. Sure, they decide what they want to eat, and decide creatively about what they will draw, but they don’t think about the consequences of eating only cheese for a day or what will happen when they use an entire bottle of glue on one piece of paper. This is the thinking I’m talking about. The “if this, than that” type of logical noggin-work. So, wearing my dorky mom hat, we like to have intellectual discussions around the dinner table. Over such delicacies as bologna sandwiches and canned corn, I have explained earth history, social conflicts, and yes, even such wonderful things as why poop is brown. All to get their little brains turning and moving...

Another case of the dreaded Abby Syndrome

I like to call it the Abby Syndrome. As a teenager, when I started to realize what was going on in this world, we had a basset hound and a black Labrador retriever. Upon coming home, the Lab, “Cinder,” would run right up to you, stopping whatever she was doing, and welcome you with excitement, kisses, and hugs. “Abby,” the basset, would instead scurry around the house, looking for something, anything, to find and present to you. A bone, a toy, an old sock. Anything that really didn’t matter to the person would eventually show up and be dropped at your feet. That was Abby. Her frantic panic when someone arrived was what helped coin the phrase the “Abby Syndrome.” Truth was, as a teenager, I saw this very disease attack my parents, but mostly my father. Whenever we’d have guests over, my mother would prepare what needed to be done to welcome the guests into the house. She would clean the parts of the house they would see and usually whip up some delicious food that they would eat. ...

Hanging out with friends is a personal learning experience

According to Ralph Waldo Emerson, “A friend is one before whom I may think aloud.” To this, I respond with, “A friend is one who will not leave the room or slap me when I start to think aloud. Instead, she will smile and nod and accept me for who I am.” As much as we love hanging around with people who share similar thoughts and interests, I love to find diversity in my own circle of friends. Not only do they comfort me when I am thinking aloud, but each and every one brings a little something to my life that makes me a better person. From all of their traits and quirks and stuff that makes them tick, I only hope I can grab a little of what they teach me to put to use in my own life. So in tribute to a few of the many great ladies I know, I’d like to share some of my favorite things about my favorite people… “Deana” is my friend that is just a little too nice. If I called her up and told her that I really needed another finger, she’d promptly chop off her pinky and drop it off on ...

"P Brain?" Nope. "O Brain."

At a recent outdoor weekend event for women, I learned that the opossum, our country's only naturally occurring marsupial, has the lowest brain to body size ratio of any animal. That means that it's brain is extremely tiny for it's body, and that it only knows how to eat, sleep, and make more opossums . It has also apparently been too dumb to catch on to evolutionary traits, has a mouth full of different teeth even though it doesn't use them all. So why am I posting this wonderful info here? Three reasons. For one, you can use these facts to entertain your children next time you see an opossum . Secondly, this new found trivia also confirms the fact that my dog is indeed not the dumbest animal on earth. Thirdly, to help coin the phrase "O-brain" as in "Opossum Brain." It will sound much better than "pea brain" in public when I'm yelling at my son, who incidentally is also off the hook for "world's dumbest animal" al...

"P Brain?" Nope. "O Brain."

At a recent outdoor weekend event for women, I learned that the opossum, our country's only naturally occurring marsupial, has the lowest brain to body size ratio of any animal. That means that it's brain is extremely tiny for it's body, and that it only knows how to eat, sleep, and make more opossums . It has also apparently been too dumb to catch on to evolutionary traits, has a mouth full of different teeth even though it doesn't use them all. So why am I posting this wonderful info here? Three reasons. For one, you can use these facts to entertain your children next time you see an opossum . Secondly, this new found trivia also confirms the fact that my dog is indeed not the dumbest animal on earth. Thirdly, to help coin the phrase "O-brain" as in "Opossum Brain." It will sound much better than "pea brain" in public when I'm yelling at my son, who incidentally is also off the hook for "world's dumbest animal" al...