Smoke Breaks ... Smoke 'Em If You Got 'Em

As if living on a busy corner didn't stink enough, now it turns out that the employees of the school across the street have a new place to take their smoke break:

On the sidewalk across from my freaking house.

Seriously?

I was wondering what this chick was doing getting into her car in the school parking lot and then walking over by some bushes by a fence of a house on the sidewalk of a busy street and standing there smoking every day. Then I saw a guy doing the same thing and heading back to the school.

REALLY?

I do so miss the 1960s ... take your dang smoke break in the dang breakroom like a dang normal person.

Oh, right. Then the second-hand smoke would kill all the kids. Not the asbestos or the BOREDOM. The smoke.

Don't get me wrong here. I feel for the smoker. My parents both smoked. Aron used to smoke. I have been known to smoke a few back in my younger days. If I didn't feel like a walking piece of crap after smoking a cig, I would probably be a smoker now, but I can feel my lungs blackening and I have no energy. I see smokers I know huffing through mowing the lawn and laying around all lazy while I jog after my kids with no problem and I know I am healthier.

Still ... we all have a crutch to cope with our stress. If your is a cig, go for it. I will probably go have a chat with the smokers as the year goes on. I'll ask them how they feel about having to go off school grounds to smoke. I mean, why can't they smoke outside the back door of school? Are they, like a bad influence if kids see them smoking? I mean, certainly, none of the PARENTS of the kids who go to school there would do something so heinous as SMOKE?! Or cuss (oops, that's me!)?!

Kids in the Hall

Here's what it takes to get a great shot of my kids (plus Alex):

Someone has to steal our air compressor from our garage.

Then we have to call a cop so we can file a police report just in case other stuff is stolen in our neighborhood, since there's a pushy roofing company coming around and you just never know.

The cop is like 10 feet tall and super sweet and it's 10 p.m. and the kids all hover in the hall to stare at the cop, and that's how this shot was taken.

*Sorry for the lame-o post and the blatant cute shot of my kids, but what do you want from me? It's kinda like back-to-homeschool week for us, and I am focusing more on teaching my kids how to love to learn than to make them do textbooks and workbooks and let me just tell you this unschooling thing (don't tell my husband; oops, I forget he gets these posts by email) is a lot harder than buying a pre-packaged curriculum. I'll also be busy this week working on writing an articly-essay about thinking about unschooling and swimming in the unschooling pond.

Miss Me?

I'm posting less these days. So if you miss seeing me today, come on over to Homeschooling Mommybot, where I posted yesterday about our first days of homeschooling this week. We're having a great time, and it's why I'm not around the blogosphere as much. Miss you all!

Male Hairdressers

Anyone heard of Chaz Dean? Yeah, my son has potential to be him someday. He likes to do hair. Most especially he likes to CUT hair. His sisters' hair. But lately he can be counted on to be my go-to guy for something like putting a quick ponytail in Eva's hair before church. You can see his mastery of the pigtail on my own hair, above. And, below, he put Eva's hair in a braid and brushes Sam's hair after a bath.

One of my best haircuts was given by a guy. Sure, he was probably gay, as most male hairdressers are, right? Not that there's anything wrong with that. Not that my son will be gay. But if he is, by God, I will still love him just the same. Sorry to go all political and social and crazy on you there, but that is where I stand as a mother and as a human being.

Starbuck's VIA Iced

I don't know what took me until AUGUST to start drinking iced instead of hot coffees, but there ya go. Sometimes I'm slow to catch on, but when I do, I do it bigtime.

A friend brought me some Starbuck's VIA ready brew iced, and I'm sipping it through a straw as I write. Too much caffeine might certainly contribute to the crazy way I write sometimes. Anyway ... I have the caramel kind ... it's already sugared and I just add milk, ice and some chocolate syrup and it makes over 2 cups. I'm getting the calcium I desperately need, but I'm also packing on some poundage (my dad calls it tonage).

What was my point?

Oh, just that it's a good way to stay away from the Starbuck's drive-through and save a little money. And it's yummy. And Starbuck's rocks. Hard. And no, they don't give me stuff to write about them. That would only happen in a perfect world.