Parenting Advice for the Musically Insane

November 30, 2012 by Rieshy

If your goal is to accidentally make small boys wild with exuberant and unfocused energy on a winter morning while marooned inside by cold weather, play this opera by Alban Berg as loudly as possible:

Isn't being trapped inside with wildly exuberant and unfocused energy every parent's dream?  Unlike most parenting advice this suggestion has been tested and found to be 100% successful.

Ravel's Bolera works too.


Organic Paper Shredder

November 16, 2012 by Rieshy

A Green Home Office

Posted in Labels: , | 2 Comments »

The Whole Point

November 9, 2012 by Rieshy

If you don't eat dinner at a table with your children you are missing something.  All the years of dirty diapers, croup, temper tantrums and gum stuck in hair are eventually rewarded... around the dining table.

At lunch today on asking if anyone had heard anything more about Ireland's voting to decide whether to leave Great Britain I was met with blank stares.  Because well, Ireland isn't involved- it's Scotland. Close enough, eh?

Which prompted my husband to mention Quebec's long desire to leave Canada at which my 13 year old pipped in, "Where will they go?"

We are slow, it took us a few minutes to realize she was kidding.

Then we all quacked a bit trying to say Quebecois properly.  Though none of us would know for sure- even though I used to live in Canada.  All I remember is that if you are not of French-Canadian descent it is prohibited for you to say the term and have it deemed properly pronounced.

What's the mood in Scotland?  How do you pronounce Quebecois?  I don't know.  The point is- eating with family is precious.


Animals are Animals

November 1, 2012 by Rieshy

Animals are animals and must somehow earn their keep.  Dogs should be dogs and by definition larger than rats. This maxim is engraved in my West Texas and Louis L'Amour tutored genes.

Except for this animal; I'm unexpectedly smitten.  
Meet Horatio.

I know.  It's silly.
In his defense, there was not a crumb of rice under the little boys' dining chairs last night.  I'll count that as a day's work.  

Plus, Horatio doesn't own a sweater so I can pretend he's a little bit tough.