I think I have mentioned before, how difficult it is to get my son to do homework. Now that he is a teenager, it hasn't got any easier. He has every reason under the sun not to start his assignments; too hot, too cold, not the right pencil, pen or ruler, too tired, hungry, thirsty or ill. He has an in-exhaustive supply of excuses.
His homework is to determine definitions and then write sentences for his spelling words. One of these word was "nefarious" so he gleefully wrote down "My sister is downright nefarious". Sid was quite proud to be the topic of the sentence, but then she doesn't know what nefarious means. I hope for Grady's sake she doesn't find out.
This morning when he finally sat down to work, he had a huge cardboard box on his head, and no I didn't ask the reason why. I did however ask my husband to take a picture so that I could post it on Facebook in order that his teacher could see how studious he is. Grady immediately whipped the box off his head and complained vehemently "No, don't take a picture. Every time you post something on Facebook, it makes me look like an idiot." I might suggest that one of his spelling words next week be "irony".
Friday 6 March 2015
Tuesday 3 March 2015
Fun Family Game Night
Fun Family Game Night, never have four little words hidden such a diabolical meaning. Sid has been desperately asking for a family game night. She is too young to remember the game nights of old, the tears, the bloodshed and the carnage just a blur on her memory. Ever since the last Game night which stopped just short of a knock down drag out fight, Rob and I have been avoiding a recurrence. We dodged the bullet at Christmas, feigning sickness but Sid was not to be deterred. A recent weekend was Family Day here in Ontario, what better day to hold a family game night reasoned Sid. That girl is nothing if not persistent. Whilst she spent the weekend choosing games, selecting snacks and creating a soundtrack on her IPod , Rob and I took a different view , something akin to bamboo shoots under the fingernails. An invitation was issued to Zach - I felt a little guilty about dragging him in to the drama, but we needed to round out the numbers.
Game Day dawned bright and sunny, no indication of the black clouds that were to later form under our roof. Grady starts the ball rolling by declaring he doesn't want to take part. Too bad, he is family and therefore must suffer alongside the rest of us. Zach arrives, full of youthful anticipation of a fun filled evening. Poor bugger doesn't have a clue. Grady continues to express his reluctance, only to be thoroughly scolded by his older sister. Round 1 to Lindsay.
We can't postpone the inevitable any longer and finally sit down to Dr. Who Monopoly. This is the game Grady bought a month ago and has been wanting to play ever since - except for this day of course. Rob is muttering under his breath, and Lindsay has another go at her brother. Round 2 to Lindsay. A few minutes in and we realise just how cutthroat our family is. Grady refuses to throw the dice and Lindsay smacks him upside the head. Game, Set & Match to Lindsay.
No matter how much we cajole, bribe or threaten, Grady refuses to take part. Rob removes him from the table to the sounds of Sid's sing song "Someone's in trouble". It is finally dawning on Zach what he has gotten himself into. We divide up Grady's spoils and continue the game. Ten minutes later, by mutual consent we declare Zach the winner and toss in the game. Throughout this Sid has been enjoying herself, so much so that she announces we are now going to play Moustache Smash. Will this torture never end ?.
With the latest game we all have to hold a moustache on the end of a stick and as the cards are overturned you smash the end of the stick down if the card matches the colour or shape of the moustache you are holding. There is a little suction cup on the end of the stick that allows you to grab the card. Person with the most cards, wins. Simple right ? Wrong. I am at the end of the table so I don't have a hope in hell of even reaching the card, which is probably just as well as 5 different sticks (Grady has relented and re-joined us) smash down on the card and any fingers that happen to be in the way. Everyone takes to this with the enthusiasm of Gladiators in a Roman arena and it isn't long before cards, moustaches, and sticks are flying through the air. Gone is the pretence of collecting cards and it quickly becomes a free for all, as my children begin wailing on each other with the sticks.
Another game night bites the dust. Norman Rockwell has nothing on our family.
Game Day dawned bright and sunny, no indication of the black clouds that were to later form under our roof. Grady starts the ball rolling by declaring he doesn't want to take part. Too bad, he is family and therefore must suffer alongside the rest of us. Zach arrives, full of youthful anticipation of a fun filled evening. Poor bugger doesn't have a clue. Grady continues to express his reluctance, only to be thoroughly scolded by his older sister. Round 1 to Lindsay.
We can't postpone the inevitable any longer and finally sit down to Dr. Who Monopoly. This is the game Grady bought a month ago and has been wanting to play ever since - except for this day of course. Rob is muttering under his breath, and Lindsay has another go at her brother. Round 2 to Lindsay. A few minutes in and we realise just how cutthroat our family is. Grady refuses to throw the dice and Lindsay smacks him upside the head. Game, Set & Match to Lindsay.
No matter how much we cajole, bribe or threaten, Grady refuses to take part. Rob removes him from the table to the sounds of Sid's sing song "Someone's in trouble". It is finally dawning on Zach what he has gotten himself into. We divide up Grady's spoils and continue the game. Ten minutes later, by mutual consent we declare Zach the winner and toss in the game. Throughout this Sid has been enjoying herself, so much so that she announces we are now going to play Moustache Smash. Will this torture never end ?.
With the latest game we all have to hold a moustache on the end of a stick and as the cards are overturned you smash the end of the stick down if the card matches the colour or shape of the moustache you are holding. There is a little suction cup on the end of the stick that allows you to grab the card. Person with the most cards, wins. Simple right ? Wrong. I am at the end of the table so I don't have a hope in hell of even reaching the card, which is probably just as well as 5 different sticks (Grady has relented and re-joined us) smash down on the card and any fingers that happen to be in the way. Everyone takes to this with the enthusiasm of Gladiators in a Roman arena and it isn't long before cards, moustaches, and sticks are flying through the air. Gone is the pretence of collecting cards and it quickly becomes a free for all, as my children begin wailing on each other with the sticks.
Another game night bites the dust. Norman Rockwell has nothing on our family.
Friday 20 February 2015
Fetch
Grady has badminton tryouts today (and I use that term loosely) so he asked if he and Sid could practice in the hallway before school. He is patiently explaining the rules and technique to Sid, who continues to lob the birdie in every direction but at Grady as he dutifully runs to retrieve it. He truly thinks they are practicing badminton and that his sister just has bad aim, but it is obvious from the malevolent grin on her face she is playing "Fetch".
Afterwards Grady confides in me "I don't think I have much chance at winning the game, so I have memorized the rules instead. That way if my opponent breaks the rules I can call them on it and win the point". Have to admire his ingenuity.
P.S. He lost .
Afterwards Grady confides in me "I don't think I have much chance at winning the game, so I have memorized the rules instead. That way if my opponent breaks the rules I can call them on it and win the point". Have to admire his ingenuity.
P.S. He lost .
Tuesday 17 February 2015
The Blog Is Back
Many apologies for my long absence, but I'm back, up and running again. I will be posting twice a week, Tuesdays and Fridays!
So this is how my week begins, woken up by Sid. "Mum, wake up quick your alarm didn't go off". I jump out of bed in a panic. Instant headache and then I hear "Oh, not to worry, you still have a few minutes left" so it would appear the alarm just hadn't gone off .... yet.
Still I'm up now and trek to the bathroom, yelling at Grady to get up on my way. Finish in the bathroom, trek back to bedroom, yell at Grady again, who hasn't moved. Get dressed, yell at Grady again, only now I have added dire consequences, an earlier bedtime. Now it is Lindsay's turn, "Mum can I use the printer ?" I send Sid down to make sure there is nothing obstructing the printer, and then remember it doesn't have any paper. Send Lindsay down to refill it. "MUM! Where's the paper?" comes the cry from the basement. Same place it has always been and I holler back "UNDERNEATH". "Under where ?" She yells back. Snickers from Sid "Lindsay said underwear". Grady still hasn't moved.
Lindsay comes galloping up the stairs wailing, "It's not printing". I head down to perform Printer Repair 101. Meanwhile, she throws everything in her bag, and heads out the door. Apparently she can print it out at school. Maybe that should have been the first option. Grady is still comatose.
Sid is moaning she has caught yet another cold, and starts sneezing. I deftly dodge a snot rocket which has the unerring aim of a Scud missile. Point taken. Grady's feet have finally touched down. I head to the kitchen whereupon I see the dishwasher has to be emptied - that is Grady's chore. I remind him of this, only to have him complain bitterly "Why didn't you get me up sooner?" Seriously ? Welcome back to my world.
Still I'm up now and trek to the bathroom, yelling at Grady to get up on my way. Finish in the bathroom, trek back to bedroom, yell at Grady again, who hasn't moved. Get dressed, yell at Grady again, only now I have added dire consequences, an earlier bedtime. Now it is Lindsay's turn, "Mum can I use the printer ?" I send Sid down to make sure there is nothing obstructing the printer, and then remember it doesn't have any paper. Send Lindsay down to refill it. "MUM! Where's the paper?" comes the cry from the basement. Same place it has always been and I holler back "UNDERNEATH". "Under where ?" She yells back. Snickers from Sid "Lindsay said underwear". Grady still hasn't moved.
Lindsay comes galloping up the stairs wailing, "It's not printing". I head down to perform Printer Repair 101. Meanwhile, she throws everything in her bag, and heads out the door. Apparently she can print it out at school. Maybe that should have been the first option. Grady is still comatose.
Sid is moaning she has caught yet another cold, and starts sneezing. I deftly dodge a snot rocket which has the unerring aim of a Scud missile. Point taken. Grady's feet have finally touched down. I head to the kitchen whereupon I see the dishwasher has to be emptied - that is Grady's chore. I remind him of this, only to have him complain bitterly "Why didn't you get me up sooner?" Seriously ? Welcome back to my world.
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