Happy Valentine’s Day 2017… #CelebRAteLove Contribution, with Short Limerick =)


Thorin bearing a Valentine’s bouquet… my office. That’s not too shabby!

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone!! And a special shout-out to Guylty for the impetus to make something, anything happen on this poor, sad blog! So! While my preoccupationwitharmitage was definitely rejuvenated after my wonderful trip to NYC, a Stage Door Runner event, and 4 performances of Love, Love, Love… it didn’t really translate into a whole lot more blogging on my part. And I really wish that wasn’t the case. Life is just busy right now, and the lovely Richard Armitage has a lot of competition for my time and energy.

I’m elbows deep in another quilt, the kids have a ton of extracurricular activities, the veterinary business is going gangbusters, and it’s just about time to start gathering material for the accountant. But I did have the energy to set up a little office photo shoot… since I knew everyone would probably appreciate Thorin bearing Valentine’s flowers!

He does look rather manfully romantic, there in front of a little collection of Armitage memorabilia, the dog curled up at his feet…




Introducing Roxie, our small dog-like animal.

Oh yeah, and speaking of that dog curled up at Thorin’s feet… I don’t know that I have ever formally introduced my new child, Roxie! Our sweet little Girlfriend did pass away late last spring, and it wasn’t long before we were fortunate enough to welcome Roxie, a 2-year-old rescued Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, into the fold. She’s pretty stinking cute, and has provided all kinds of entertainment and pure, loyal affection. This dog is my shadow. She could probably fill up a blog post, or even a blog of her own with all her antics, but since I’m on the subject, I’ll give you her short story… she was purchased as a puppy by an elderly man with cancer, and after he passed away, she spent several days alone with his body. Needless to say, we work on separation anxiety issues! She was then sold to a family who loved her, but their 60lb boxer was terrified of her 10lb ferocious self, so she went to the Cavalier Rescue organization. Aside from her separation anxiety, she also had bilateral luxated patellas (knee-caps out of socket) since puppyhood, which caused her to spend her entire life completely unable to bend her hind legs. She now has both her knees repaired and fully functioning, and a family that absolutely adores her, not to mention a mom who doesn’t put up with any bullshit terrorizing other animals. She goes back and forth to the clinic with me, tries to steal into the exam rooms to accompany me, enjoys greeting clients in the lobby, believes she has been wrongfully banned from the sterile surgery suite, and absolutely loves the kids. And their socks. And their dirty underwear. I love her so much!



Hubby playing Bass while I sew. We barely fit in the craft room!


My three kids!

And since it’s the holiday of love, and Roxie had a photo op, I would be remiss if I didn’t include the other Valentines in my life… Hubby, My Young Love, and his adorable Little Sister. They bring laughter, smiles and all kinds of good feels on a daily basis. So blessed!






v4But back to my Valentine’s collaboRAtion… my office sports a little bit of memoRAbilia, as you can see. Several magnets on my mini-fridge, several framed photos that were gifted to me, a lovely Francis Dolarhyde shrine, subtle Richarding tree ornaments, post-cards, and mementos from my trip to Greece. Not to mention my very own, life-sized, always amorous Thorin Oakenshield.





A Valentine’s Care Package from Guylty!

Naturally, after I had already taken my photo, yet more Valentine’s goodness arrived in a package from Ireland! Guylty, you’re amazing! Thornton’s Fabulous Fudge, a cucumber face mask (can’t wait to surprise the kids with my green face!), a heart-shaped candle holder, lotion and an unusually sexy post-card all bundled together in a clever handmade zipper bag which is a total shout-out (to the discerning, in-the-know eye) to Mr. A….  Gah! I LOVE IT! I The interior is lined with water-proof vinyl, really nice, and the exterior sports custom fabric… peaches, roses, chess piece kings, red dragon symbols, vinyl records (is that a nod to young Kenneth?) and of course, that unmistakable silhouette (with nape curls!). Thank you!!


v8And finally, although this came a little early for Valentine’s Day, for me it was truly inspiring.

Richard Armitage, filming Ocean’s Eight.

*fans self*

Seriously, if I saw him walking down the street, I’d admire from a distance. I really would.

But if I saw him walking Borzois down the street… I make no promises.

I mean, I’ve always had a major attraction to sighthounds.

And, Dayum.


I want some.

If this can’t make me wax poetic, nothing can. Well worth a little ode…

Happy Valentine’s Day!

















It Tasted Like $#!+, And Other Family Woes

Smelling Irises

My Young Love… Looking Quite Innocent. I AM happy to report he finally let me rid him of the dreadful Rat Tail!

Hello! It seems like it’s been a long couple of weeks, and I apologize for being less than a reliable blogger lately. With not much happening on the Armitage front, motivation is lacking, while on the bright side, the veterinary business is really picking up, so free time has also been lacking. I wish I could say all was just fine, but that’s not quite true. On the home front, our Young Love has been giving us fits. Warning: contains very bad language!

If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you’ll know that we have an intellectually gifted (though fashion-challenged) first-grade boy. He’s always had an outgoing personality, breezes through school with fantastic grades, and up until recently, he’s had generally good classroom behavior, with occasional trips to the “Take-A-Break” (Time-Out) desk for reasons such as talking when he’s supposed to be working, or not following instructions. A couple of months ago, he did bring home a Take-A-Break form in which the infraction was swearing, and when we asked him what he’d said, he told us it was spelled “F-U-C-K” and he saw it on the bathroom wall, and could we please tell him what that word even means?

Well, we didn’t tell him what F-U-C-K means. We just said it was an ugly word that was definitely inappropriate for school, and asked him to write all the ugly words that he knows, so we could look them over and tell him which words would definitely be inappropriate. He wrote a pretty decent list, including shit, crap, ass, hell, fuck, pussy, damn, and a few more. The only word he wrote that wasn’t really a dirty word was “sex”, but we said it still wasn’t a great word for most school contexts. =)

Anyway, I looked over his list and told him that he had a pretty impressive list of dirty words, and I warned him that we had better NOT start hearing those words come out of his mouth! Being the type to question every statement I make, he asked what would happen to him, so I told him I thought using language like that would mean he had a dirty mouth, so I’d just have to wash his mouth out with soap if any of the words on that list except for “sex” came out of his mouth.

That was that. No major behavior problems for a couple of months, until the last several weeks, when suddenly we started seeing Take-A-Break forms several times per week, and usually involving getting into altercations with other students, shoving, kicking, calling names, etc. When we asked him what was going on, he said some kids were picking on him, and making him really mad. He’d called his classmate Zoe a “Witch” one day, and his classmate Wyatt a “Total Butthead” the day after that!

I wasn’t sure whether he was being picked on, as he claimed, and acting out as a result, or if he was acting the bully. I sent an e-mail to his teacher, and she responded that for the most part, it was typical rough-housing type of behavior… that she didn’t feel like he was necessarily a bully, but that he was prone to getting physical or calling names when he was frustrated. At home, for this type of infraction, he lost all electronics privileges for 1 week, with the 7-day count-down to start over if he had another incident during the “grounded” period. (It’s going on 2 1/2 weeks, because he keeps on having incidents.)

So last Monday, he brought home another Take-A-Break form for swearing. I asked him what word it was, and he admitted it was spelled “S-H-I-T”. I didn’t ask him why he said it, but told him after dinner, we’d have to wash his mouth out with soap, as promised. (I’m a Mom of my word… I may have really regretted making that threat, but once it was made, I felt I needed to follow through!)

So after dinner, my plan was to take him into the bathroom, and I’d take a bar of soap and swish it over his tongue a couple of times to put a bad taste in his mouth. A couple of seconds of parental torture, tops. However, when I tried to do this, he bit down on the soap (to prevent it going in far enough to touch his tongue), and when I told him to open up so I could get his mouth clean, he clamped his teeth down further and stubbornly shook his head. I said “Fine!” and left the soap between his teeth while I got a baby wipe and cleaned around his mouth to remove pizza sauce from dinner. When I finished that, I said I thought his mouth was probably pretty clean, and tried to remove the soap.

Dental Impression

I never meant for it to become stuck on his teeth! Honest!

It was stuck! Whoops! He’d bitten into it so far that his teeth were embedded, so it took a brief struggle to dislodge the soap! On the bright side, we have a nice dental impression from the Young Love to admire, now. He was silent and furious, face red, and I told him it was ok to go ahead and rinse the soap off his teeth and spit. He did so, then crossed his arms and stomp-marched out of the bathroom and down to the other end of the house, into his sister’s room, and shut the door with emphasis! I was running a bath, and after a few minutes, I went and knocked on his sister’s door, and told her it was bath time. When she arrived for her bath, I asked her if her brother had said anything about what happened, and she said, “Yep. He said you washed his mouth out with soap, and it tasted like Sh—– I mean, it tasted like… Bug Poop!”

(She covers for him, bless her heart! She totally could have tattled that he turned right around and used the same dirty word 30 seconds after having his mouth washed out… but she totally lied to protect him instead! LOL.)

But our story isn’t over. Later that night, at bedtime, I warned him that the same thing could happen again if he kept on swearing, and I advised him that if he felt like saying bad words, he was free to do so, but only in his head, or if he was all by himself, he could say them out loud. He was just not to swear in front of people, or at people, or he knew the consequences. He responded that he was going to be swearing inside his head a lot, especially when I made him mad, and I said that was perfectly acceptable to me, and kissed him goodnight.

The following day, a Tuesday, we received another Take-A-Break form. He was swearing again! I expressed my disbelief that he would get caught swearing the very next day, and he said he hadn’t done it in front of any teachers, but he had done it on the playground, and some other kids had told on him to get him in trouble. “What did I tell you about swearing out loud? That’s why if you do it out loud, you need to be all by yourself. Otherwise you get in trouble, right?” He agreed, and tried to get out of the soap procedure, but that wasn’t happening, totally effective parent that I am. (*rolls eyes*) This time, I applied a tiny dab of liquid soap on a toothbrush, and he had to brush his teeth with it. To my surprise, he took it in good stride this time, with none of the storming-off antics. (In fact, he was so nonchalant that I made the mistake of tasting it myself after he left the room, thinking it couldn’t have been all that bad… MISTAKE! Blech!)

Along came Wednesday, and Hubby and I were talking via cell phone on the way home from work, when Hubby had to take another call, from the school. I waited with bated breath, and pretty soon Hubby called back, and he’d heard from the Principal’s office. “You’re never going to believe this.” Apparently, our Young Love and his classmate, Zoe, (a.k.a. the “Witch”) were called to the Principal’s office… after the teacher caught Zoe hitting our boy in the genitals! (I admit that rather than feeling horrified or outraged, I stifled a laugh and immediately asked what he’d done to deserve it!) When the Principal asked the two of them what was going on, our Young Love told her it had been happening several times per week since after Spring Break, and Zoe admitted that this was true, but said she only hit him there after he called her names. He in turn admitted she was right. (Evidently he’s a very slow learner when it comes to insulting the wrong girl!)

That night, we had him compose a letter of apology to Zoe, asking forgiveness for calling her names. He did so, and it was a cute note. “Dear Zoe, I am sorry for calling you names. I don’t want to make you sad. Or mad. I don’t want to be your arch enemy. From, [Young Love]” He gave it to her the next day, and behaved himself up until yesterday, when he had another Take-A-Break for shoving, and Hubby received another call from the Principal’s office. Earlier that day, his classmate Wyatt, (a.k.a. the “Total Butthead”) had evidently dared our child to insert his finger in the pencil sharpener, and when the Young Love took the dare, the kid cranked the handle and (slightly) cut his finger! This time the other kid had to go to the principal’s office, and Young Love was just gently chastised by the teacher for taking a foolish dare. Sigh. And we thought he was so bright…. =)

Later, however, I think Wyatt was resentful about the Principal’s office, because just as school was about to be over and the kids were gathering their backpacks, he blocked Young Love’s access to the backpack area and said something along the lines of “You can’t pass, you fat weirdo!” At which time, our son gave him a hard shove, and had to Take Another Damned Break. To make matters worse, it was Tuesday, the day before he was FINALLY supposed to get his electronics privileges back, and he knew that shoving the kid and going to Take-A-Break would mean his 7-day countdown started all over. He apparently cried, and his other nemesis, Zoe, piled it on by calling him a “cry-baby”…

Rough day, right? I feel bad that he’s having these types of exchanges with name-calling, physical altercations, and so on. Now that we hear about the genital hits and the pencil sharpener, I think he is genuinely being picked on, but obviously at least to some extent, he brings it on himself! I know kids will be kids, but I’m afraid of this escalating.

To that end, we talked to him about better ways to handle such a situation, for instance, if Wyatt is in his face, blocking his path, and calling him names. Rather than shoving, swearing, or name-calling, that is. =) Knowing that he has a fantastic memory, I came up with a list of good “comebacks” he could use that might help him keep up his confidence, and come off as cool and nonchalant, which I hope will eventually help prevent bullying. I think it becomes a vicious cycle at some point, in which the kid who is called names loses confidence, and that self-conscious demeanor only triggers more negative attention directed his way.

We actually had a pretty good time last night, taking turns calling each other rude names, practicing our nonchalant demeanor and our comebacks, then turning and walking away! Here are a few:


Young Love: Daddy, you’re a Weird Nerd!

Hubby: You say that like it’s a bad thing….


Mommy: You’re Fat and Ugly!

Young Love: Where is your “Off” Button?


Little Sister: You’re a Big Poo Poo Head!

Hubby: Talk to the hand!


Young Love: You’re a Stupid Baby!

Mommy: You Again?


Hubby: You’re a Disgusting Booger-Eater!

Young Love: It takes one to know one!


Mommy: You’re a Spoiled Brat!

Little Sister: They say everyone has a talent!


And so on… it was actually pretty funny, and cathartic. This morning our Young Love was back at it with his list, begging to be insulted during breakfast! We’ll see how it goes….





Warm Greetings To All


Although not as magnificent as Dad’s recent sunset photo, here’s my best sunset on Sarasota Bay.

I hope everyone had as special a holiday as I was blessed with. Hard to believe it’s been about 3 weeks since I last posted here! At first I was impeded by Christmas prep, then busy travelling in Florida, then home and celebrating Christmas with family, then busy with the year-end routines of sorting out old toys and outgrown clothes to be donated so as to make room for the Christmas booty and new clothes that were threatening to overflow our miniscule storage space! Not to mention I’ve also been busy on the quilting front, completing one and already on to the next… AND I’ve been on a dolphin/whale documentary binge. Nevermind. At any rate, I have just been swamped with other stuff. Given the lack of much Armitage-related inspiRAtional material, I hope readers will settle for the highlights of the last few weeks as a sort of reunion. Although… I DID read a Hannibal DVD transcript (thanks, Richard Armitage Central!) and a spoof piece DID suggest itself… we’ll see! LOL

Florida Vacation!


My travel companion. With Ducky.

It was a ton of fun! The travel day wasn’t bad, though we did narrowly avoid a complete calamity when we irresponsibly allowed Little Sister to take charge of Ducky during our layover in Atlanta. As we were boarding the flight for Orlando, making our way down the airplane aisle, she suddenly panicked, and with good reason. You know that one stuffed animal (or blanket, or whatever it may happen to be) that is a small child’s most beloved possession? The one that gets tattered and filthy and hauled around everywhere and must be in the bed at night to achieve a restful and comforting sleep? Well, that’s Ducky. And she accidentally left him at the gate. With all the airport security, I knew they wouldn’t let us get off the plane to search for him, so I figured we were toast… but an astute stewardess immediately noticed the little girl with the tragic face and the tears rolling down her cheeks, and asked if she could help. Figuring it was worth a shot, we told her there was a profoundly important yellow stuffed duck somewhere in the airport (we weren’t sure where!) and she said she’d have them check the gate area. A phone call and a few minutes later, along came our savior with the treasured, ratty old thing! Saved our bacon, as the loss of Ducky would have put a severe damper on Little Sister’s entire vacation!



Dad and the kiddos, enjoying the underwater portion of the penguin exhibit.


Penguins! They’re pretty darn cute.

The first full day, Dad drove to Orlando and the five of us went to SeaWorld, where we enjoyed all the sights and had the opportunity to pet and interact with one of the dolphins, which is something I’ve always really wanted to do. The kids loved it, and we enjoyed ourselves, but if I’m honest, I have to say that the idea of dolphins and especially whales held in captivity for the entertainment and amusement of humans, does bother me. And that was BEFORE I got on my whale/dolphin documentary kick. Nevermind.





Their faces pretty much say it all! And they’re just the perfect age to believe in the magic of it! =)

On days 2 and 3, we hit Magic Kingdom. I was impressed with how incredibly clean the park was, and how amazingly high-tech it all is! They even have this “My Disney Experience” app that can tell you your location in the park, help you navigate, and has up-to-the-minute information on the wait times for every attraction, and even lets you change your fast-passes (each visitor gets three per person per day) on-the-go. So if you have fast passes for Pirates of the Caribbean, but see that there’s only a 15 minute wait time, you can switch your fast pass right there on your cell phone to something that has a longer wait time. I just thought that was the bee’s knees! LOL



Big Thunder Mountain! Wheeeeeeee!

My Young Love was my major partner for both days at Magic Kingdom… he and I both LOVE the roller coasters, while Little Sister and Hubby are both chickens aren’t big on anything too fast or scary. So the two of us hit Space Mountain and Big Thunder Mountain a ridiculous number of times together, while Hubby and Little Sister stuck to the Flying Dumbos and other boring gentler rides.



The whirling teacup ride was my favorite one with Little Sister. Hubby can’t tolerate the spinning, so that was our special ride together!

That is, until Little Sister got really hot at the end of the day, and decided that Splash Mountain really sounded refreshing. She decided to brave it, and since Hubby’s main issue is with whirling and going fast in circles rather than going fast downhill, we all went as a family. Splash Mountain is one of those log rides, and it’s pretty tame all the way up through the “mountain” with a lot of fun animated characters to look at, which she totally loved, and then the big drop at the end, which she tolerated really well, and felt refreshed after the nice splash! However, once she had Splash Mountain under her belt, she now announced that she was ready for Big Thunder Mountain, which is a pretty zippy and wild roller-coaster, and unfortunately she was just tall enough to do so. Hubby and I had our doubts, and required her to watch the roller-coaster go by a few times, reminding her that it was really fast and pretty scary, but she decided to listen to her brother instead, who assured her it was AWESOME! Well, as one might well predict, it ended badly. Although Young Love and I fully enjoyed ourselves for the umpteenth time on Big Thunder Mountain, Hubby developed nausea and Little Sister was bawling by the end of it. She not only wanted to leave the ride…. not only wanted to leave Magic Kingdom… she insisted she was ready to return to Oklahoma! Oops! Kind of a Parental Fail! Lol. Plus, even though she had loved the Splash Mountain before her horrendous ride on the roller-coaster, once we talked her into staying in Florida with us, she never would go back to Splash Mountain, either!


The one… the only… ELSA!

For all the fun we had riding the many thrilling rides, at the end of the day, Little Sister reported that the best thing for her, in the entire theme park, was a jungle gym she played on while waiting in line for The Flying Dumbos. And that was not even the most surprising revelation. When I questioned my Young Love about his favorite thing in the entire theme park (certain he would shout “SPACE MOUNTAIN!!!”), he hesitated not at all before declaring it was the opportunity to meet Queen Elsa, of Frozen fame. And here we thought we’d joined that excessively long queue for Little Sister’s benefit! =)



It happened in two minutes!

The kids were so worn out by the end of the second day that they both zonked out in the car by the time we’d navigated out of the giant parking area at Disney! We had to carry them inside when we got to Dad’s condo in Sarasota, and this is what they woke up to the following morning!




Peace and quiet. Glorious!



We had a lovely time at the theme parks, but man, it was so nice to take it easy for a few days, enjoy glasses of wine, great food, and the beautiful scenery on Sarasota Bay. Best of all was the chance to spend time with Dad and my grandfather, Papa, who also lives nearby.




Enjoying our traditional holiday drink, milk punch, which is basically a frothy, icy concoction of milk, rum and creme de cacao… I celebrated my birthday with my beloved Papa!

Papa is 92 years old and still absolutely as sharp as ever. He has a hard time walking, but still lives on his own and manages to ride his bike 10 miles per day. How in the world Papa gets on the bike, I don’t know… but apparently once he’s on, it’s off to the races! And he knows more about wines than anyone I’ve ever met. =)


The next few days we went to Coquina Beach on Anna Maria Island in the afternoons, which was a huge hit with the kids. It was blue skies, waves, white sand, and most importantly… baby clams. Actually I have no idea how old the clams were, but they were pretty tiny, and after every pass of the surf, we’d see them bury themselves in the sand, only to be disrupted by the next wave. The kids loved those clams, and made it their mission to “rescue” them in droves, returning them to deeper waters, endlessly and repeatedly for three days straight! They desperately wanted to bring a contingent of baby clams home to Oklahoma, but that might have been a bit stinky… LOL!

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Although it was a grave disappointment to both of them that I wouldn’t allow them to transport clams across state lines, we still managed to have a blast at the beach! We saw several dolphins while we were there, and in one of my photos… maybe… a shark! (Though it might have been another dolphin… I didn’t see it at the time… just taking a photo of the kids, and saw the fin in the photo that evening!)

Home For Christmas


There on the front end just under the “jaws” you can see the motor, which slides along a track that runs down the belly of the shark. Depending on the motor’s location, it will  tip the nose up or down, and the tail can be made to move in either direction with the remote control to propel the shark through the air… it’s pretty neat! So it “swims” up, down, can turn in either direction, or just drift on the warm air currents through the house!

We travelled home just in time for Christmas Eve, and had a pretty cool surprise planned for the kids from Santa. A couple of months ago, the kids had a school fundraiser in which they were asked to sell chocolate bars. The Grand Prize for any kid who sold some incredibly ridiculous number of bars (like, thousands) was this enormous, remote-controlled helium balloon shark. Our kids (and hundreds of others) went gaga over the prize, and they swore they’d sell the most bars, but because we (and they) are slackers they didn’t win the prize. Heartbreak, I tell you!


The dang thing took over an hour to assemble! We were up until 1 am!

However, Hubby discovered the helium shark on Amazon for about $30, and ordered it for Christmas. I procured a tank of helium at the party store, and after the kids went to bed on Christmas Eve, we assembled and inflated the idiotic thing! We thought it would be a quick matter of attaching it to the helium tank and filling it up… but actually we had to assemble the motor and track and tail apparatus, then carefully add ballast to a little compartment… not what we’d really wanted to do after a long day of travel! Anyway, we were a bit slap-happy after we finally had the shark working, so we took a nice goofy selfie!


Showing off their Christmas Dinner attire… and their favorite present!

Needless to say, it was a huge hit with the kids the following morning. We set the alarm early so we wouldn’t miss the kids’ initial reactions when they discovered what Santa had brought them, and enjoyed some early morning quiet time with the shark. When the heater would kick on, creating warm air currents throughout the living room, the shark would go on the move. I’d wanted him to be hovering near the stockings, but he had his own ideas. When the kids finally emerged, they went bananas! It was definitely one of Santa’s better ideas! The shark hovered over the early morning Christmas festivities and occasionally nosed us, but nobody was bitten! =)

And… that’s probably long-winded enough! LOL

Here’s to the New Year! Looking forward to getting back “in touch” with the fandom! I have hopes that 2016 will be full of Armitage goodness for all of us! =)






Happy Halloween! (Crazy Morning)


We have an Elsa-themed Princess and Minecraft Steve today, folks!

For all practical purposes, today is Halloween! At least, I’m hoping it is. Technically, they don’t know that tomorrow is the actual day, so I’m hoping that between wearing their costumes to school, having Halloween parties at school, and doing the Downtown Trick-Or-Treating Ordeal later this evening, they’ll be satisfied that they’ve had their Halloween and we won’t have to do additional Halloweening on the real day tomorrow.

Yes, so we all got up about 30 minutes early this am so we’d have time to costume the kids. It was a good thing we did that, as Princess Elsa really had her heart set on a traditional Elsa side-braid, but we discovered (since Mommy was too lazy  unable to do a pre-Halloween “dress rehearsal”) that her Princess Comb/Crown/Hair Thingy was not going to stay on her head unless we stuck it into the base of a bun somehow. She has very fine and silky hair that doesn’t hold style or ornaments for long under any circumstances, but with a boatload of hairspray and many stern admonitions not to roll around on the floor, try to take it off, or do overly much snuggling or face nuzzling… maybe it will stay. At any rate, she looks pretty darn cute even without the side-braid, and got to wear lipstick as a consolation prize. While I was floundering for a way to get the Comb/Crown/Hair Thingy to stay on her head, Hubby had to do some emergency shoe work to get her princess slippers to stay on her feet. I didn’t even ask what he did, but he returned to the bathroom with modified princess slipper-shoes and she was able to walk on them with only one slip-and-fall-on-her-face incident before 7:30am.  

Thankfully, Minecraft Steve was a bit easier. Since he’s not allowed to wear any sort of mask, or carry any sort of weapon to school, I did have to do something so he didn’t just look like a kid in blue jeans and turquoise shirt. I mean, without the cardboard box head and the Styrofoam fire sword, the Minecraft Steve idea sort of falls flat. So we improvised by drawing a totally crappy square beard, and an even more crappy square outline around his nose and eyes using cheap Halloween face-crayons. I thought it was embarrassingly terrible work, but after all the earlier drama with the Hair Thingy and The Slippers  Mommy didn’t have much time. Luckily, he seemed pleased with it, and now looks like a kid with some sort of slipshod costume, if not Minecraft Steve. I told him he could wear the box head and wield the fire sword  after school, and he was satisfied.

Besides, he had other items on his agenda. Having forgotten to bring home his Thursday folder yesterday, which contains announcements for parents every Thursday, we were in the dark and had to take his literally LAST-MINUTE word for it, that in addition to Halloween madness, it was also ok to bring your pet for show-and-tell. We were a bit dubious about this, and really, as if parents didn’t have enough on their plates with Halloween costuming! So he had to convince Daddy to hunt for the cat carrier, then hunt for the cat, who Elsa had inadvertently let slip outside when she opened the front door to check the weather. BTW, it’s pouring rain, so that meant Daddy had to hunt for the cat through the mud and the pouring rain!

Thankfully, Hubby, Elsa, Minecraft Steve and a somewhat sodden and muddy Zax did make it out the door barely on time… and Mommy needs a glass of wine.

Zax and Minecraft Steve

Be thankful you don’t have to see my lousy face-crayon work up close!

P.S. This just in… a text from Hubby revealed that Zax was, indeed, invited to attend show-and-tell, and a black cat on Halloween was lauded by all the children as just the ticket! Happily, he was content to be held by Minecraft Steve and Daddy did NOT have to hunt for an escaped Halloween cat through the spooky halls of the elementary school. =)

Additionally, there were at least 700 other Elsa’s, but NOBODY recognized Minecraft Steve!

At any rate…. Happy Halloween!


In Which The Young Love Debunks Bad Parental Household Myths

Every morning our routine is as follows: Hubby rousts the kids and oversees them getting dressed, then sends them into the bathroom where I’m usually finishing up my hair and makeup. I then de-tangle and style Little Sister’s hair while both kids suck on toothpaste.

That’s right. They will gladly and exuberantly apply tasty kid-flavored bubblegum toothpaste to their toothbrushes, then half-heartedly brush teeth for about 10 seconds, then zone out and sort of suck on their toothbrushes while I remind, cajole, tease and/or sharply bark orders to “BRUSH Teeth”… which they will do for a few more seconds then return to enjoying the bubblegum flavor.

At some point last week, I called their Daddy in and told him to get out his phone and add “yucky flavored kid toothpaste” to our shared groceries app. Hubby dutifully pulled out his phone and started pecking on it, murmuring “hmmm… how about spinach flavor?” Over the simultaneous shocked gasps, I agreed that spinach-flavored toothpaste would surely be something they’d have to brush, and brush fast, and never suck on for long. Poor Little Sister’s eyes welled up with tears as she quickly resumed brushing, and such a look of horrified, tragic woe was on her little face that Hubby and I immediately felt almost bad about the urge we experienced to die laughing. My Young Love, on the other hand, reddened, wrinkled his nose and glared daggers at us as he, too, began to brush furiously. When his 2 minutes of dentist-recommended tooth brushing time was over, he spat into the sink with all the disgust he could muster, and I’m quite sure he entertained visions of spitting at our feet if he could have gotten away with it.

However, the threat of spinach toothpaste WAS quite effective for several days, then the brushing became lackadaisical again this morning. I decided to remind my little slackers children that spinach toothpaste was on the horizon for kids who suck on toothpaste without brushing, and that’s when my Young Love set me straight.

“Don’t believe her, Sissy. There’s NO SUCH THING as spinach toothpaste!”

“What do you mean there’s no such thing? How would you know?” I responded, suppressing a grin.

“It’s obvious. I typed in ‘spinach toothpaste’ and did you know what I found, Sissy? Nothing. There’s no spinach toothpaste on the computer, so there won’t be any spinach toothpaste, anywhere! Ever! Mommy is full of it!”

“You… could spell spinach?”

“Well, I can now!”

Busted. I guess it’s back to the drawing board.


Proud Parental Moments. Or Something Like That.

first day of schoolWell, it’s Back To School today. The Young Love is starting first grade, and Little Sister is starting pre-K. I snapped a pic to commemorate this occasion, and just now noticed the Young Love apparently dribbled something on his shirt before departure. Sigh. Well, chances are he’s not the only little boy to appear on the first day of school with some form of wardrobe malfunction.

I thought I’d share a “proud parental moment” that occurred a couple of nights ago, on “Back To School Night”, when we took the kids to investigate their new classrooms, drop off school supplies, and meet their new teachers. Little Sister acquitted herself nicely, immediately going in for a big hug and telling her teacher how much she loved her, upon but a moment’s acquaintance!

The Young Love, on the other hand, possibly made quite a different impression on his new teacher. Mrs. V is young, pretty, and embarking on her first year as an educator.

She knelt down and engaged The Young Love in a conversation right away, enquiring, “And what is your very favorite subject in school?”

Young Love: “Um, Science!”

Mrs. V: “Oh, good! We are going to be doing some fun science this year!”

Young Love: “Did you know what?”

Mrs. V: “What?!”

Young Love: “When I grow up, I’m going to experiment with ACID!”


I was immediately red-faced, and Mrs. V’s eyebrows flew up. However, Hubby, the innocent Chemical Engineering Professor, didn’t catch any psychedelic drug reference. No, Hubby was proudly thinking in terms of stoichiometric equations and pondering the prospect of introducing his son to the delightful reaction to be found in mixing vinegar and baking soda!


This is not the first time my Young Love has stupefied everyone with such a comment. When he was three, our family was attending a luncheon celebration at my workplace, and he was proud to tell everyone about the wonderful new sport to be had at the grandparents’ house: a delightful new game for the backyard!

Except, his loud announcement was this: “Did you know what? My Grandma Dee has CROCAINE at her house!”


Me: “Croquet! Grandma Dee has a CROQUET set at her house!”

Kids do say the darndest things! I’ll be sure to let you know if there are any further proud parental moments to be had this weekend, as we’re having a mother/son vacation to Colorado to attend my aunt’s wedding. She happens to be getting married to another woman, so I fear all kinds of interesting proclamations might be anticipated. LOL

Hope you all have a lovely weekend!

Dream: Richard Armitage Norwegian Wedding


I have weddings on the brain. As you may recall, Little Sister and I recently attended my cousin’s wedding in Colorado, and the Young Love and I are scheduled to attend my aunt’s wedding to her longtime girlfriend in Colorado next month. Apparently, all these weddings have spilled over into my subconscious, and I’m happy to say that Richard Armitage finally revisited my dreamscape.

For a little background, I should tell you just a bit about the wedding I recently attended. It turns out that my cousin’s new father-in-law, who we’ll call “Dennis”, is one of those people you might say is a Serious Control Freak. According to my cousin, there were times during the wedding planning when his fiancé was reduced to tears because Dennis the Menace was continually taking charge and refusing to listen to her wishes regarding the wedding service, the decorations, the reception, or any of it. So forceful was Dennis’ personality, in fact, that the couple actually planned their honeymoon in secret, not telling any family member where they were going, because having caved to Dennis on numerous other issues, they didn’t want any interference from him on their honeymoon!

So “our” side of the family, being rather more laid back, derived a great deal of snarky amusement watching Dennis direct activities like a military general at the wedding reception. I do have to hand it to Dennis… everything went off very smoothly, if in a slightly regimented fashion! And although I was too intimidated by Dennis to approach him, I did later wish I’d gone over to the brides’ family table to talk to them about their Norwegian roots. Some of her family came all the way from Norway for the wedding, and I was charmed by their willingness to come so far.

* * *

I am in a state of agitation, completely flustered, because I have missed Richard Armitage’s wedding ceremony. (I can’t explain how I came to be invited, nor do I know the identity of his new spouse. It seems that this fortuitous individual’s name has been kept undisclosed, but I expected to learn the secret at the wedding!) I have my four-year old daughter in tow, and she’s dressed to the nines in her rainbow dress. I am also wearing a dress, and part of my agitation is due to the fact that I did not have time to shower before the ceremony, or to fix my hair or apply new makeup. In fact, I’m feeling really hot and sweaty, in part due to my anxiety over having missed the ceremony, and in part because I have been wielding my lefse stick over several hot griddles in the kitchen all afternoon, feverishly preparing a tall stack of lefse with my family.

Lefse Project

This is a really small lefse crew. You can see we start them young in my family. Young Love was two, and Little Sister was 1 week old when Dad and Brother came to visit. We couldn’t let an opportunity to celebrate the new baby’s arrival pass without making lefse!

Let’s take a moment here, because not everyone may be familiar with lefse. And that is a shame. Lefse, in my humble opinion, is just about the most delicious stuff in the world. It’s an ultra-thin (think crepe) potato- based Norwegian flatbread that is heavenly when eaten warm off the griddle, dripping with butter. Now, some people enjoy lefse with cinnamon-sugar sprinkled on, but in my family, we prefer straight-up hot buttered lefse, and we will use any excuse for a family gathering to get a crew together and make an enormous batch. This labor of love involves about 10-lb of potatoes boiled, peeled and riced, which are then mixed into a dough with heavy cream, flour and lard the day before the lefse party. The lefse assembly process involves specialized equipment, a great quantity of flour, the consumption of alcoholic beverages, and plenty of lefse smack-talk. Ideally we need one person to form dough balls, a couple more to roll out the dough, one or two to man the griddles, and someone to stack and steam and carefully count the lefse.

Although I’ve missed the exchange of vows, I am still in time to make it to Richard Armitage’s wedding reception. While I may not have fresh hair and makeup, I do come prepared in one respect. I have an insulated bag full of lovingly prepared lefse, which I was instructed by Dennis to provide for the wedding reception. (In fact, knowing my family and the way we obsessive-compulsively count and divvy up the lefse, all participants watching like hawks to ensure a fair portion of lefse is allotted for personal consumption, I was probably late due to negotiating the number of lefse that would be relinquished for Richard Armitage versus the number of lefse that the family would keep!) Although Richard’s new spouse is shrouded in mystery, Dennis has indicated that there will be a large Norwegian contingent in attendance, and I am speculating that Richard may have married some long-legged Scandinavian supermodel. 

With my precious lefse bag in one hand and my daughter’s hand in the other, I enter the ballroom. I notice that many of the guests are already seated, and many of them are wearing beautiful Norwegian sweaters. I look up toward the dais where the wedding party is seated above the rest, and I immediately spot Richard Armitage in the center. (Apparently I’m flustered enough that I forget to see who the best man is or to really look at any of the wedding party other than Richard.) I see that the chair adjacent to Richard is empty. Glancing around, I spot Dennis, who is checking his watch rather impatiently. Where is the Scandinavian supermodel, or whoever it is Richard has married?


The recipe is simple, if time-consuming, and passed down over countless generations. There is no describing the mouth-watering aroma or the perfection of each buttery, potatoey bite. =)

I quickly make my way over to the buffet table and talk for a moment with the caterers about a covered dish to keep the lefse moist and warm, and ask for butter to be placed nearby. Then I take my seat. I study Richard, who is looking gorgeous in a black tuxedo, but has furrowed brows. I presume he’s wondering where his spouse might be. (Though maybe he’s uncomfortable because he knows that Nobody screws with Dennis’ time table at wedding receptions!) As we wait for something to happen, Little Sister starts asking when they will be cutting the cake, and when the dancing will begin. (So many boys, so little time!)

Pretty soon Dennis approaches the dais and speaks to Richard, who shakes his head and indicates he doesn’t know. Dennis begins to gesticulate and point to his watch, and Richard, harried, scans the room hopefully. Still no spouse. Dennis and Richard then exit the room, only to return a few minutes later. Richard takes his seat, and Dennis speaks to the wait staff, who begin to circulate, taking drink orders. More time elapses, and at some point, Little Sister escapes and begins asking boys to dance. Boy after boy shakes his head no. (The other parents evidently have better control over their offspring!)

Little Sister, who is a veteran of a Dennis-controlled wedding reception, then gets a bright idea. She approaches the man himself. (Not Richard. Dennis Runs The Program at these events!) She tugs on Dennis’ pants, and when he bends down to hear her better, I can only assume she either asks Dennis to dance (this did happen at my cousin’s wedding, BTW. To Dennis’ credit, he complied!) or she asks Dennis to get this party started, but in either case, Dennis sets his shoulders, takes her by the hand, and Dennis and Little Sister march back to the dais. After a few stern words with Richard, who finally shrugs and accepts the inevitable, Dennis turns to the attendees and announces that it’s time to eat and dance. Nobody addresses the elephant in the room: Richard’s significant other still has not appeared!


Norwegian Lover’s Mittens

After everyone has filled their plates and taken their seats, Dennis announces that some of the attendees have travelled all the way from Norway, and one of the Norwegians has asked to make a short speech in honor of Richard and his absent spouse. Everyone applauds, and an older gentleman dressed in a Norwegian sweater stands up and goes to stand behind Richard and the empty seat. After a few remarks about his travels in the United States that don’t seem to apply at all to the matter at hand, the elderly Norwegian gentleman says his wife has knitted a trio of Norwegian Lover’s Mittens in honor of the couple. He holds up 3 mittens: a right-hand mitten, a left-hand mitten, and a conjoined mitten for the hand-holding couple to wear together. Dennis, realizing that the special moment is somewhat diminished by the lack of a marital partner to demonstrate the mittens, lifts Little Sister up to the dais, and the elderly Norwegian gentleman helps her to stand on the empty chair. Richard good-naturedly dons his left-handed mitten, Little Sister dons the right-handed mitten, and my heart melts as they work out how to put on the shared mitten, then hold up their joined hands for all to see. (Where does my brain come up with these themes?!)

Reception Dance

Now how lucky is he? *snickers*

Never one to miss a golden opportunity, Little Sister then asks the hottest guy in the room to dance. Richard Armitage is either unable to resist her, or unwilling to disappoint her, (or intimidated into capitulation by Dennis!) because he stands up and, still wearing the mittens, carries Little Sister onto the dance floor. He sets her down, and having to stoop to keep hold of her hands, they begin to dance. 

stagedoorPretty soon, ladies begin to form a line along one wall near the dance floor, each waiting her turn to dance with Richard. Several kids and a few couples join the dancers, and Little Sister soon finds a new partner. It’s beginning to remind me of The Stage Door. (In fact, it’s exactly like that!) Even at his own, bizarre wedding reception, Richard Armitage finds himself confronting a line of expectant ladies, and graciously, he begins to dance for short periods with each of them. 

Meanwhile, another line is forming, consisting almost exclusively of Norwegians (easily identified by their sweaters, of course!) over at the buffet table, and I realize that the servers have put out the lefse. (Perhaps only those of us of Norwegian descent will appreciate the spot-on nature of this! LOL). I watch the lefse anxiously, knowing that the supply is limited. As the stack of lefse dwindles, I begin to become very concerned that Richard Armitage is not going to get any lefse! (This, ladies, would be an absolute calamity!) I start looking back and forth between the line of Norwegians and the line of ladies, and I realize that there is no way that Richard will have time to dance with all the ladies, and still be in time to get his lefse. I can’t let that happen. If I thought I was sweaty before, it was nothing compared to what I’m feeling now… this wedding reception is already enough of a debacle without Richard missing out on my lefse! 

After briefly deliberating whether I should try to notify Dennis about the lefse situation, I decide to take matters into my own hands. I stand up, and move to the front of the line at the dance floor, trying to ignore the sharp looks and the air of resentment from the ladies in line. Richard is spending about 30 seconds dancing with each lady, so it isn’t long before he’s standing in front of me with a polite but vacant smile, holding out his hand to take me onto the dance floor. I have no intention of dancing, not even with Richard Armitage. (Two left feet. Trust me, my four-year old can out-dance me any day of the week!)

“Um, if you want to take a quick break, the lefse is almost gone!”

Richard snaps out of his autopilot and leans in closer. “The left what is almost gone?”

“The lefse!”

“Pardon me?”

I say it several more times as I lead Richard away from the dance floor, but clearly he has no clue what lefse is. Luckily, he seems willing enough to come along with me, but I’m feeling very awkward because I’ve just pissed off half the non-Norwegian guests and Richard is looking bewildered. (Just what kind of Scandinavian has he married who never bothered to tell him about lefse?) We reach the buffet table and stand at the end of the line. (Apparently, I’ll risk the wrath of cutting into the would-be dance line, but I know better than to cut in front of Norwegians in line for lefse!) As the line moves slowly forward, I point to the Norwegians and try to get across to Richard that what they’re eating is lefse. He’s nodding. Maybe he understands me, maybe he doesn’t. I glance up at him, and he appears to be looking at my hair with a slight smile.

“Flowers in your hair?” For a moment I’m confused, then I pat my head to see if I’ve misplaced a flower there, and a small flurry of white powder puffs out of my hair. With horror, I realize Richard has noticed flour in my hair! 

“From the lefse! I made it this afternoon!” Richard smiles kindly. I wish I’d showered. Before I can die of mortification, I suddenly see that the very last piece of lefse is being plated. I gesture helplessly, and Richard witnesses the tragic moment as well. 

Although he clearly doesn’t know what he is missing, Richard appears genuinely disappointed. His shoulders slump, but I suspect he’s mostly sympathetic on my behalf. Clearly, serving him my lefse was important to me. Richard asks if there is any more in the kitchen, and I shake my head. Then he must have seen a shifty expression cross my face, because he asks, (with remarkable acuity) whether there is any more lefse at my house. (Crap!) Of course there is, but I don’t really want to share my private stash! Even with Richard Armitage! (I’m ashamed to admit that my generosity unfortunately has its limits, and its limits start with my lefse allotment. LOL)

As I narrow my eyes and wonder if I’m enough of an actress to deceive Richard Armitage about my lefse supply, Richard’s gaze suddenly shoots to something over my shoulder, and his face transforms with delight. Without having to turn around, I know that his wedded love has arrived at last. I give him a congratulatory pat on the shoulder and wave him away, vastly relieved that I don’t have to procure a single piece of lefse from my reserve.

I’m so pleased with this development, that I forget to even notice who the hell it was that Richard Armitage has married. 

* * *

Life Is Good


I firmly believe that this is one of the most gorgeous places in the entire world.

Have I said how much I love Colorado? After a really fun wedding and a reunion with Mom’s side of the family, we are able to spend a couple days with Dad’s side of the family here, at the family cabin on Electra Lake. Engineer Mountain in the background. Sharing a place that is a part of my soul with my daughter.



Here he is… my future son-in-law. She’s apparently a sucker for a sharp-dressed man. =)

Oh, and the wedding reception was a lot of fun. Little sister turns out to be quite the dancer. She danced basically every dance. We had to sort of physically restrain her for the bride and groom’s dance, the father/bride and mother/groom dances, but the entire rest of the evening saw her out on the floor.




We had a number of very sweet and patient boys willing to dance with Little Sister. She kept them on their toes!

Hubby is going to have his work cut out for him in the future… the little girl boldly solicited dances with Every Single Boy, and quite a few of the men, in the room. She was quite the sensation. Danced until she had blisters on both feet, and picked out her future husband from amongst her 2nd cousins. Good times.






It’s been a great few days. So pleased that Richard won his Saturn Award, and Lord, what a gorgeous man he is. Dayum. I still remember the days when here at the cabin, we had a community phone line and you’d pick up the phone and have to listen for a moment to see whether one of the other 99 families with cabins was on the line before making a call. Now I have a wireless connection and cell service. Just a couple of years ago that was impossible, but it is rather nice to be able to keep up with my Richarding here at the lake.

20150628_205958It’s getting late here, though, and I’m rambling. Too full of good wine and good company. And enjoying this spectacular view as the sun goes down.

Yes, Life is Good.

Blog Introspection Challenge #7 – The Most Commented Post

Swisher Collage

Swisher Twinkle Stars, still a bedtime favorite for Mommy and Daughter alike. Though, our reasons differ somewhat…

Continuing the Blog Introspection Challenge issued by Guylty brings me to Question #7: Which post has the most comments?

The answer, at 59 comments (though probably half of those were mine), is my Swisher Armitage: A Man For All Ages post from October 2014. In this post, I shared how my daughter, aged 3 at the time, was a proud member of the Armitage Army: CBeebies Division, her startling reason for joining the fandom, and her reaction when it was suggested that her beloved “Swisher” (Richard) was the same “mean man” in the scowling poster of John Proctor in The Crucible.

KellyDS and Tree both re-blogged it, and apparently many readers enjoyed it. Jollytr said “I’m pretty sure my heart just exploded with happiness and twinkle stars” and Guylty hinted that she had all the materials necessary for a CBeebies shrine… maybe I need to see how such a shrine is to be commissioned, now that I know the importance of this post in my blog stats.

Swisher Twinkle Stars also accumulated the 2nd highest number of likes, at 20, behind Another Onion Article?, my spoof about Proctor’s Bare Chest in Act 2. That spoof garnered 22 likes and 50 comments, making it the second most-commented-upon post to date.

Worried Daughter, Proud Mother

Nothing Richard-related here. Just an update on my crazy week of highs and lows.

First, the lows… Wednesday morning brought a brief but tremendous panic when I got a 6am phone call from Mom, who was making gurgling noises yet couldn’t speak. I briefly debated whether to call an ambulance, but figured if she was able to call me, she either didn’t think an ambulance was necessary or had already called an ambulance but still needed me. Having just stepped out of the shower, I threw on clothes, texted my earliest-rising employee to tell her I had an unknown emergency, and drove like a bat-out-of-hell over to Mom’s house.

When I arrived, I learned Mom had woken up to a pillow soaked in blood (not the pillow-case… the whole pillow) at 4am and had a gushing arterial nose bleed that she’d been trying to stop for 2 hours. If she tried to plug that side of her nose, it came out the other side. If she plugged both nostrils, it went down the back of her throat and out her mouth. I’m not kidding you when I say there was a blood spatter pattern like a crime scene all over the bed, the bathroom, the mirrors… I’ve never seen anything like it.

I loaded her up and off we sped to the emergency room, with one quick stop along the way when I apparently blew through a school zone and was stopped by a police officer. (I didn’t see the light flashing and didn’t realize the school zone speed limit was in effect at 6:30am!) The officer thankfully took one look at the big, bloody towel on mom’s nose, and sent us on our way with only a verbal warning. Miraculously, the nosebleed finally began to subside just as we were pulling into the ER parking lot. As the nosebleed began to subside, she began to get a worsening sinus pressure headache. Apparently a huge clot had finally formed in the nasal and frontal sinuses, which at least stopped the bleeding, but became very painful.

I’m not a huge fan of the E.R. I’m sure they do know how to be fast and efficient when a critical trauma arrives, but for anything else, they really seem to mosey around as inefficiently as possible, taking 5 hours to do what would have amounted to about 45 minutes of work for a typical emergency visit at my vet hospital: get baseline cardiopulmonary parameters and history, physical exam by a doctor, set IV catheter, draw and run bloodwork, give some pain meds, do diagnostic imaging.

One bright spot came that morning when my little girl arrived on the scene. Mom needed to call some of her patients to explain why she wouldn’t be in to see them that day, but needed her iPad for their contact info. I called Hubby and asked him to swing by her house and get the iPad after he dropped our young love off at school, so he showed up midmorning with our 4-year-old daughter in tow, and that was rather a highlight for her Grandma Dee. Just as they arrived, a nurse came in to take Mom off for her CT scan, and as per hospital policy, Mom had to ride in a wheelchair. The nurse saw little sister, who was looking pretty snazzy in her little skirt and leggings, and said “Hello! Don’t you look cute in that skirt!?” Little sister beamed and replied, “Thanks! And doesn’t my Grandma Dee look cute in your stroller?” This caused everyone to laugh, and Mom said the nurse told the “stroller” story to several other nurses and CT technicians while they were gone. Isn’t it amazing how a child’s innocent comment can brighten an otherwise rather awful morning? =)

Mom was eventually discharged and sent to see an ear-nose-throat specialist, and he was able to use his scope, suction and cautery unit to cauterize the artery and hopefully prevent another massive bleeding episode. She now has to see about another surgery on her nose to repair a hole in her nasal septum that he found on the rhinoscopy, but at least they figured out the problem and it’s not something really ominous, like a tumor. (I am of course able to come up with a scary list of potential sources for non-traumatic severe nosebleeds, such as bleeding disorders, severe fungal infections, tumors etc. by pretending mom was a dog or a cat… lol).

YoungLove1On to the highs… that same day, the young love was to test for placement in the GT program at the school. Of course Mommy and Daddy were excited that he’d been recommended for testing, but we were told not to be disappointed if he didn’t test well, as many gifted/talented kindergarteners are unsuccessful at that age because they don’t necessarily know how to take tests well. We’ve been aware that he is (sometimes scarily) intelligent ever since he was a toddler, but he’s also always been a bit of a challenge. He’s prone to going off into his own head, becoming distracted, or just perversely deciding not to cooperate with the program. So we’d told him we were excited and proud and thought he could do well if he applied himself, but privately we had a few chuckles, saying (out of his hearing) that he’d probably either ace the test, or get the worst score they’d ever seen.

That evening, we asked him how it went, and he confidently proclaimed he’d gotten every single question right. (This is typical for him. He is nothing if not self-assured!) Hubby has a friend who administers these tests in a different school district, who said that statement meant exactly nothing, as a lot of kids think they did great when really they missed quite a few, and others leave thinking they bombed the test, when really they nailed it. So we were really delighted when we found out today that the young love really did get every question right, and tested into the program! Yes, I am one very proud, very happy mama… =)