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I Don’t Know How I’m Raising This Kid

Okay, so for Christmas this year I bought my son and my sister’s kids each a toy call a “Musini MagicSensor” (that was on sale for almost free at Amazon) that encourages movement by only playing music when you move. Your movements, the type and frequency, make the Musini play. The kids control the type of instrument, etc.

So my mom gave Junior a RoboSapian, as I’ve mentioned before. It’s a remote-controlled robot.

Junior has rigged it up so he can sit on the couch and make the robosapian move, to make the Musini play music, thus entirely defeating the benefits of the Musini. That’s my kid, always thinking.

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Snow Day

Oh man, the joy of a snow day. My son was so excited that he got out of bed early. Because that’s what you do when you have nothing to do…you get up early. If you have to be somewhere, you sleep until someone drags you out of bed kicking and screaming. Okay, so I was the one kicking and screaming this morning.

I’ve had my tea and my raisin toast (oh man, is there anything better on a cold winter’s morning than raisin toast? God bless the Pepperidge Farm people. I don’t buy it often because I could easily go through a loaf in 3 days. In fact, I gave half the loaf to my parents because I’m the only one who will eat anything with raisins in my house, and I have no room in my freezer for things that only one person will eat. It works out for my dad because my mom doesn’t buy it for him very often so I’m like the big raisin bread-bearing hero.

I’m trying to get work done here without having to go in to work because Mr. Dump said 117 and 495 looked like they hadn’t been touched, and the commute was awful. I don’t want to have to drive down there if I don’t have to (plus taking the boy in and making sure he’s silent for any length of time is impossible). So he’s playing video games – Rayman to be exact – in Spanish. I have no idea why. Well, he just wanted to see what it would be like to pick the Spanish language option. I told him the game wasn’t going to change, just what they are saying. I will admit that I know 1000 times more French than Spanish, and the only thing I keep hearing that I recognize is “pantelones” but I can’t figure out in what context they are talking about pants, so maybe I have the word wrong. It is a pain to have to deal with snow days. For some reason they are my job to deal with, even though I’m a contractor and I only get paid if I actually, you know, work. I think Mr. Dump has reached too high a level in his career to be able to take on Junior’s sick and snow days. I’m grateful for his job and salary and all, and yet, part of me still wonders about it. Maybe I’m supposed to be a stay-at-home mom, and then it’s a non-issue. Darn me and my burning need to pay the bills!

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Jody Croft

Thanks to Dump Reader Chuck, who decided to help me out on my quest to win Brad Pitt’s heart.

Thanks Chuck, you’re a pal. I think this is going to be my new background on the laptop. (I have Junior on my work system…see if I’m here, I can just look over on the couch and see him, so I don’t need him on the wallpaper.)

I like the braid too. Smashing, I am!

(Click for a larger version)



In other snow-related news, school has already been cancelled for tomorrow. Could you hear the happy screams of schoolchildren all over Massachusetts? Except for the ones old enough to be forced to shovel out the family home.

Okay, the game is on now. You know what game I’m talking about, so don’t even ask. We’ve got our lucky Athens pizza and our lucky side greek salad.

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Snow Place Like Home

This would be much more fun if it were a work day/school day, y’know? Who wants a state of emergency on a weekend?

We’re loaded up with snack foods, and some good stuff, of course, and the coffee maker works, so no worries. Except we’re fighting about who will have to go out and try to remove two feet of snow from the driveway when there are sustained 30mph winds (windchill is somewhere around 15 below) with gusts to 50 MPH! As you can imagine, nobody wants to go out there.

I posted last night and the blogger kind of ate it, so I apologize for that. To show how much so, I invite you to pull up a chair and have some brunch on my deck:

Note the size of my mailbox

Somewhere under there is a Honda Accord


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