So apparently, if you don't post for a few months, the spammers come and get you. They put comments in random posts, thinking you won't notice.
I NOTICE!! I DELETE YOU!! HAPPILY!!
So for the sake of dissuading the spammers, I shall post. Though I've still not a great deal to say. I'm going through something of a depressive period, and I can't organize my thoughts coherently. It's easier not to write. But write, I shall. For it is now apparent that the penalty for writer's block is spam in droves, and that is unacceptable to me.
Feel free to skip this nonsensical post if you like. I just haven't got much to say.
*sigh*
First things first: I got scholarships! Two scholarships! One of them is a coveted national award. Annually, there's only one of these granted in each level. And I took it for Level 4. So I'm happy. There's cash involved. Now I can afford to buy tires. Because they continue to be punctured on a fairly regular basis. I still don't know why, but continue my conspiracy theories.
Secondly, J was moved into Pre-Kindergarten at school. I thought I had another year of preschool, but Pre-K is here. I'm getting used to it. He likes it a lot.
J says many funny things these days. But by the time I get to my computer, I've usually forgotten. I live in something of a fog lately, I'm afraid. But off the top of my head:
J: When I get big, I'm going to paint all the street lights green.
J: Can we go to the AC/DC Centre?
Note: This is J's term for the "ACT Centre", a pool and rec centre that he really enjoys.
J: Today, we talked about our favourite books at show and tell. Thali's favourite book is called 'Diarrhea Mouse'.
T: I think you mean 'Diary of a Mouse'.
J: No. It's 'Diarrhea Mouse'.
T: 'Diary of a Mouse'?
J: No. 'Diarrhea Mouse'.
H: J. Is the book about a mouse that sits on the toilet all the time and does absolutely nothing else? Or is it about a mouse that writes in a little book?
J: Oooooh ... [giggle] It's about a mouse that writes.
T: Ah. 'Diary of a Mouse'.
The final thing that I shall report on is N. Who is sick. Constantly. He's having teething issues. He had a flu bug a week or two ago. He now has a cold with fever. He is rather inconsolable. Last night, he even cried during bathtime. Poor little Pineapple.
There. I posted. Now quit spamming my comments, you nasty robots!
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Friday, November 13, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Random Dorito Tuesday ... with cake and toilet paper
N is in his exersaucer. He rocks back and forth like mad, propelling himself across the room. He operates the exersaucer like a car with no wheels. Every so often, I get nervous that he's going to flip the saucer over, and I call out to him. "N ... NO!" He stops rocking briefly, looks at me, and smiles engagingly. And then proceeds to rock violently, as though I had never spoken. This can't bode well for the future.
N's favourite toy is the red phone on his exersaucer, which he holds and waves about as he drives about the room. J's favourite toy is anything round. J loves to share. And that is why N is presently standing on a bunch of balls of assorted sizes, all of which are apparently now stored in the bottom of the exersaucer. I've given up removing them; it doesn't work.
Auditing exam went well. I was temporarily deceived into thinking there were no questions fresh out of left field on this one. That's uncharacteristic for the auditing exam, so I wondered what I might have missed. Then my classmates pointed out to me that those questions were all about law. Which is my other education and experience base. I didn't even notice. I think I did pretty well on it. Hopefully I'm correct. Won't know until May 6. The two month turnaround is aggravating, but I'm kind of getting used to it.
I want Doritos. We have no Doritos. There should always be Doritos. A Dorito-less house by itself cannot stand ... or something. And I think my Wii Fit trainer would like Doritos too. If she ever ate anything. Which she doesn't, because she is a computer animation. But if she had an actual mind and body, I bet I could corrupt her and make her gain a whole bunch of weight.
My training was suspended for an extended time while I prepared for my exam. Back to my Wii Fit this week. I have to lose about a gazillion pounds, so that should be entertaining. When they invent the Doritos and Chocolate Cake diet, I'll be very, very happy indeed. (Mmmmmm ... chocolate cake ...)
H gets irritated whenever I forget to throw out the cap from a bottle of formula and he finds it on the kitchen counter. I get irritated whenever I find an empty toilet paper roll that hasn't been thrown out and/or replaced. So the solution is clear. I've now told H that I will be stockpiling the formula bottle caps and placing them next to the empty toilet paper rolls.
Now, go visit Keely, and do your own Random Tuesday Thoughts. Very freeing!
Friday, March 06, 2009
But it'll all be worth it when I meet Mickey Mouse
Studying frantically. Test on the 13th. J is allowing me to study. Mostly because I have told him that in a few years, when I'm designated, we will be able to take him to Disneyland. Whatever works, right?
Just one problem. What's the risk that we never get to Disneyland because of the risk that I incorrectly assess the risk that may or may not be involved in the risk of death from infection caused by jamming a fork through my own eye just so I don't have to read any more of this crap?!
***********
Auditing is ghastly.
It's theory. All theory. Picky, niggly, ridiculously in depth theory. Theory that you cannot begin to grasp unless you have actually audited. Personally, I have not. Now, they do mention this fact in the course. Not in the course syllabus, mind you. Nor in a note about the course pre-requisites. No. Nothing so simple. They mention it at the very end of the summary of the very last module for the course. You will not understand this class until you have auditing experience. Thaaaaanks!
Auditing involves a series of standards, assertions, procedures, objectives, tests, and communications.
Generally accepted auditing standards. One general, three examination, and four reporting standards. They are involved and detailed. And they should not be confused with assurance standards, which have three very subtle differences but are otherwise virtually identical.
Management assertions. Different assertions apply to balance sheet accounts, income statement accounts, and note disclosures. Accounts are linked together in various cycles. Each cycle includes primary assertions. Assertions must be substantiated with a procedure. General procedures are: analysis, enquiry, inspection, observation, computation, and confirmation. Different procedures are used to test different assertions. Specific procedures are not so much provided as made up as you go along.
Internal control objectives. Each corresponding with a management assertion. These fall in categories and levels. General controls. General IT controls. Application controls. Input, processing, and output controls as subsets of application controls. Three subsets of input controls, one of which is entitled "input controls". Eleven controls in this category. Tests of controls. Reliance on controls. Weaknesses in control. Manipulation of control. Different duties which must be segregated in different account cycles for effective control.
Communication. The auditor's report. Engagement letter. Management representation letter. Derivative communications. Two other letters I'm forgetting. Communication with predecessor auditors. Does this client even need an audit? Three paragraph standard report. Introduction, scope, opinion. Qualifications in "except for" wording. Where do extra paragraphs go? What should they say? What should be in each paragraph? Audit report addressed to shareholders. Dated. Signed. What is the date? When do you issue qualified, unqualified, adverse, or denial? When do you resign from an engagement?
Law. Liability. Ethics. Structure of the CEPROC. Computer auditing. EDP. EDI. Through vs. around computer. Computer assisted auditing techniques and when to use them. Sampling. Statistical vs. non-statistical sampling. How and when to sample. Upper and lower error bounds. Unadjusted vs. adjusted error bounds. Interpretation of results. Stratification of samples. Types of independence. Audit risk model. Types of risk: alpha, beta, sampling, detection, audit, business, information, inherent, control, incorrect acceptance, incorrect rejection. Risk on top of risk. Risk of assessing risk incorrectly.
Risk of assessing risk incorrectly? You can't be serious. What happens if you assess the risk of assessing the risk incorrectly ... incorrectly? Hmmmm?
Auditing is ghastly.
But this is why designated accountants get paid the big bucks. 'Cause everyone else would rather just drown themselves than even think about this crap. And I personally am contemplating ripping out my own liver and beating myself to death with it, just so I can have something else to do. I bet the magazines at hospital emergency rooms are more interesting, and they probably mention nothing about the audit risk model; not even once.
Exam on March 13. Can't wait for it to be over. As long as I pass, it's good. I just don't want to have to repeat this class.
Dear lord, I hope my next class is better. But I dread it, too. Theory courses are problematic for me. And this next class has "theory" built right into the title, so that just can't be good.
**********
So ... What's the risk that I might make an error in assessing the risk that in a few years, my son may or may not be emotionally scarred for life at the hands of a giant rat who insists on hugging him forcefully in the middle of a theme park while "It's a Small World After All" plays on a pipe organ over a tacky PA system?
Dammit!
Just one problem. What's the risk that we never get to Disneyland because of the risk that I incorrectly assess the risk that may or may not be involved in the risk of death from infection caused by jamming a fork through my own eye just so I don't have to read any more of this crap?!
Auditing is ghastly.
It's theory. All theory. Picky, niggly, ridiculously in depth theory. Theory that you cannot begin to grasp unless you have actually audited. Personally, I have not. Now, they do mention this fact in the course. Not in the course syllabus, mind you. Nor in a note about the course pre-requisites. No. Nothing so simple. They mention it at the very end of the summary of the very last module for the course. You will not understand this class until you have auditing experience. Thaaaaanks!
Auditing involves a series of standards, assertions, procedures, objectives, tests, and communications.
Generally accepted auditing standards. One general, three examination, and four reporting standards. They are involved and detailed. And they should not be confused with assurance standards, which have three very subtle differences but are otherwise virtually identical.
Management assertions. Different assertions apply to balance sheet accounts, income statement accounts, and note disclosures. Accounts are linked together in various cycles. Each cycle includes primary assertions. Assertions must be substantiated with a procedure. General procedures are: analysis, enquiry, inspection, observation, computation, and confirmation. Different procedures are used to test different assertions. Specific procedures are not so much provided as made up as you go along.
Internal control objectives. Each corresponding with a management assertion. These fall in categories and levels. General controls. General IT controls. Application controls. Input, processing, and output controls as subsets of application controls. Three subsets of input controls, one of which is entitled "input controls". Eleven controls in this category. Tests of controls. Reliance on controls. Weaknesses in control. Manipulation of control. Different duties which must be segregated in different account cycles for effective control.
Communication. The auditor's report. Engagement letter. Management representation letter. Derivative communications. Two other letters I'm forgetting. Communication with predecessor auditors. Does this client even need an audit? Three paragraph standard report. Introduction, scope, opinion. Qualifications in "except for" wording. Where do extra paragraphs go? What should they say? What should be in each paragraph? Audit report addressed to shareholders. Dated. Signed. What is the date? When do you issue qualified, unqualified, adverse, or denial? When do you resign from an engagement?
Law. Liability. Ethics. Structure of the CEPROC. Computer auditing. EDP. EDI. Through vs. around computer. Computer assisted auditing techniques and when to use them. Sampling. Statistical vs. non-statistical sampling. How and when to sample. Upper and lower error bounds. Unadjusted vs. adjusted error bounds. Interpretation of results. Stratification of samples. Types of independence. Audit risk model. Types of risk: alpha, beta, sampling, detection, audit, business, information, inherent, control, incorrect acceptance, incorrect rejection. Risk on top of risk. Risk of assessing risk incorrectly.
Risk of assessing risk incorrectly? You can't be serious. What happens if you assess the risk of assessing the risk incorrectly ... incorrectly? Hmmmm?
Auditing is ghastly.
But this is why designated accountants get paid the big bucks. 'Cause everyone else would rather just drown themselves than even think about this crap. And I personally am contemplating ripping out my own liver and beating myself to death with it, just so I can have something else to do. I bet the magazines at hospital emergency rooms are more interesting, and they probably mention nothing about the audit risk model; not even once.
Exam on March 13. Can't wait for it to be over. As long as I pass, it's good. I just don't want to have to repeat this class.
Dear lord, I hope my next class is better. But I dread it, too. Theory courses are problematic for me. And this next class has "theory" built right into the title, so that just can't be good.
So ... What's the risk that I might make an error in assessing the risk that in a few years, my son may or may not be emotionally scarred for life at the hands of a giant rat who insists on hugging him forcefully in the middle of a theme park while "It's a Small World After All" plays on a pipe organ over a tacky PA system?
Dammit!
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Random Thursday Thoughts
Because I missed Tuesday ...
N crawls now. Not well, but he's working on it. And yesterday, I awoke to him standing up in his crib for the very first time. Holding the top rail for support, of course. He is 9 months old now. And quite the little charmer.
N loves his exersaucer. He practically lives in it. For some reason, he hates the exersaucer at my parents' place, and he screams whenever he is put in it. But the exersaucer at our place is most helpful.
J's eating is improving now, thanks to some very militant techniques that H and I are employing. It's quite torturous for us, really. But at least he's taking in more food. I hope he'll soon just eat properly, without all the drama.
Yesterday, J wanted to sing "The Last Saskatchewan Pirate". He wanted me to sing with him. We were halfway through the verse about Mountie Bob being laid off and joining the pirate crew as "Salty Bob", when J stopped and announced: "This song sure has a lot of fancy words". (He's right; it does.) J has decided that next Halloween, he wants to be The Last Saskatchewan Pirate. He would also like us to dress N up as Salty Bob. This could be interesting.
Still reading my auditing course. Hard haul. Most of the readings are honestly quite dull and poorly worded. And then there's that whole repetitive nonsense. It's frequent. Very difficult to be motivated.
We are in a small house, and I have to study in the family room, where the TV is on every evening. You know that phenomenon when you're writing while someone is talking, and you end up writing down what you hear instead of what you were thinking? (What's that called again?) Well anyway, that same "writing" principle also applies to reading. I know, because last night, my auditing reading suddenly became half "Auditing, An International Approach" and half "Law & Order", and it read: "The general purpose of auditing is to commit assisted suicide". I concur.
Got the materials for my next course today. A friend taking it currently had told me that she figures there are about one-quarter of the readings as compared to other Level 4 classes. Should be good. The text is cute. It's so tiny after what I've gotten used to. I held it up, called it "dainty", and compared it to a wallet. J is convinced it is a baby textbook, meant especially for him. He figures he can pretend to study from his baby textbook while I use the real one, when it arrives. Hilarious!
J attends a very nice preschool. Today, all the kids were supposed to pick a subject and then tell a one-sentence "story". The teachers compiled the stories into a list on the wall, which looked kind of like this:
Child #1 - Mittens: You wear them when it's cold.
Child #2 - Cars: They drive down the street.
Child #3 - Dinosaurs: They eat eggs, and toast and jam, and carrots.
Child #4 - Shells: You find them at the beach.
Want to guess which child was J? Anyone?
N crawls now. Not well, but he's working on it. And yesterday, I awoke to him standing up in his crib for the very first time. Holding the top rail for support, of course. He is 9 months old now. And quite the little charmer.
N loves his exersaucer. He practically lives in it. For some reason, he hates the exersaucer at my parents' place, and he screams whenever he is put in it. But the exersaucer at our place is most helpful.
J's eating is improving now, thanks to some very militant techniques that H and I are employing. It's quite torturous for us, really. But at least he's taking in more food. I hope he'll soon just eat properly, without all the drama.
Yesterday, J wanted to sing "The Last Saskatchewan Pirate". He wanted me to sing with him. We were halfway through the verse about Mountie Bob being laid off and joining the pirate crew as "Salty Bob", when J stopped and announced: "This song sure has a lot of fancy words". (He's right; it does.) J has decided that next Halloween, he wants to be The Last Saskatchewan Pirate. He would also like us to dress N up as Salty Bob. This could be interesting.
Still reading my auditing course. Hard haul. Most of the readings are honestly quite dull and poorly worded. And then there's that whole repetitive nonsense. It's frequent. Very difficult to be motivated.
We are in a small house, and I have to study in the family room, where the TV is on every evening. You know that phenomenon when you're writing while someone is talking, and you end up writing down what you hear instead of what you were thinking? (What's that called again?) Well anyway, that same "writing" principle also applies to reading. I know, because last night, my auditing reading suddenly became half "Auditing, An International Approach" and half "Law & Order", and it read: "The general purpose of auditing is to commit assisted suicide". I concur.
Got the materials for my next course today. A friend taking it currently had told me that she figures there are about one-quarter of the readings as compared to other Level 4 classes. Should be good. The text is cute. It's so tiny after what I've gotten used to. I held it up, called it "dainty", and compared it to a wallet. J is convinced it is a baby textbook, meant especially for him. He figures he can pretend to study from his baby textbook while I use the real one, when it arrives. Hilarious!
J attends a very nice preschool. Today, all the kids were supposed to pick a subject and then tell a one-sentence "story". The teachers compiled the stories into a list on the wall, which looked kind of like this:
Child #1 - Mittens: You wear them when it's cold.
Child #2 - Cars: They drive down the street.
Child #3 - Dinosaurs: They eat eggs, and toast and jam, and carrots.
Child #4 - Shells: You find them at the beach.
Want to guess which child was J? Anyone?
Monday, February 23, 2009
Observation for the day
My textbook could probably be about one-third its current size, if its publishers employed better editors. Case in point:
"Expectations of dollar misstatement have the effect of increasing the sample size. The more dollar misstatement expected, the larger the sample size should be. Sample sizes should be larger when more dollar misstatement is expected. So, sample size varies directly with the amount of expected dollar misstatement."
That one passage just ate my brain. Seriously ... thirty seconds of my life that I will never get back. The last sentence is self-explanatory and well worded all by itself. Why is it necessary to reword this same thought four times?!
Updated: The above quote was taken directly from the 4th Edition of Smieliauskas & Bewley's "Auditing, An International Approach". Missed the citation earlier, but I should probably give credit where credit is due. Though I kind of doubt the authors of this text would actually want to take theblame credit for such a trainwreck of a passage.
"Expectations of dollar misstatement have the effect of increasing the sample size. The more dollar misstatement expected, the larger the sample size should be. Sample sizes should be larger when more dollar misstatement is expected. So, sample size varies directly with the amount of expected dollar misstatement."
That one passage just ate my brain. Seriously ... thirty seconds of my life that I will never get back. The last sentence is self-explanatory and well worded all by itself. Why is it necessary to reword this same thought four times?!
Updated: The above quote was taken directly from the 4th Edition of Smieliauskas & Bewley's "Auditing, An International Approach". Missed the citation earlier, but I should probably give credit where credit is due. Though I kind of doubt the authors of this text would actually want to take the
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Sporadic
I remain roughly five modules behind in school readings. My last assignment is due this Thursday by noon. Once that is in, I have three weeks until exam night. Lagging too far behind, I have to use all available time to prepare. It's gotten critical. (Doesn't help that I have had a migraine for the past four days ... I'm not even kidding ... and who can read anything when you're both doped up and in considerable pain?)
This is why posts here and comments everywhere have been very sporadic of late. Short on time; something's gotta give.
So for the next few weeks, I'll be posting and reading what I can, when I can. It's all I can do. Bear with me please. Presumably, we will return to our regularly scheduled programming shortly after my exam. Until then, I'll see you as often as I can.
Back soon!
This is why posts here and comments everywhere have been very sporadic of late. Short on time; something's gotta give.
So for the next few weeks, I'll be posting and reading what I can, when I can. It's all I can do. Bear with me please. Presumably, we will return to our regularly scheduled programming shortly after my exam. Until then, I'll see you as often as I can.
Back soon!
Friday, January 30, 2009
How to annoy me
I'm on maternity leave right now. In school. Two children. Ordinarily, I also work outside of the home at a job that I very much enjoy. I'll be returning to it in May. This dual income household concept is foreign to many. Why would both parents in a household choose to work outside of the home? Why wouldn't one of you stay at home with your children? What's wrong with you?!
Of course, there is nothing wrong with us. We're just fine. So why do both of us work outside of the home? And why might other couples make that same decision?
Well, there may be some fairly obvious financial considerations. And of course there are some developmental and social skills that a child can garner from early childhood development centres, which centres are reasonably unaffordable if you don't happen to have a dual income household. But perhaps the main reason to have two working parents is just plain sanity. 'Cause a full day at the office is vastly more relaxing than a morning at home with both my children. Quite frankly, it feels like a break. If you have children, you probably understand this. If not ... well, read on and you will very soon.
**********
My child knows just exactly how to annoy me. Now, other people can get in there and really piss me off, too. But the 3-year old J has become quite the old hand at it. Bravo, J!
For those of you who aren't quite as adept, here is a quick reference guide on how to annoy me. And I venture to say that this list would transfer to pretty much anyone, so feel free to use it at your discretion. You can do all of these things in a short space of time. Just ask J, whose time management skills are so fabulous that he has done everything on this list today! (It's not even noon.)
Thanks, and have a lovely day.
**********
After walking your father to the door to see him go off to work and promising not to cry, pitch a screaming fit with more tears than I've ever seen before.
Pace up and down the stairs, turning lights on and off and crying inconsollably.
Demand I call your father on his cell phone and tell him to return home at once so that he can pour you a glass of milk.
Insist that Daddy, and only Daddy, can give you milk; Mommy is not good enough.
When I theorize that you just miss your father and would like to talk to him, and so I phone him (at your insistence) so that you can talk, spend all your time on the phone shrieking at the top of your lungs that you need him to race home and pour you a glass of milk immediately.
Scream and cry for an hour about the fact that Daddy will not return home to pour you a glass of milk.
Unlock the front door, presumably to go searching for Daddy or to let Daddy back in so that he can pour you a glass of milk.
Do not tell me that you have unlocked the front door.
Insist on having both white and chocolate milk for breakfast, and demand to drink your chocolate milk with a spoon.
When I (very reluctantly) give you a spoon for your chocolate milk, insist that you want a different spoon.
Throw yourself on the kitchen floor, kick your feet, and scream incessantly about the fact that the spoon I gave you is inadequate, because it is not shiny and grey from top to bottom, did not originate from the cutlery drawer, and is not "breakable".
Continue to scream your demands for a spoon for the next 20 minutes.
When I hold up the spoon that I provided and ask you what it is, insist that it is a fork.
After the whole "milk" extravaganza ends, wait about ten minutes, and then rhythmically chant "I need a glass of water. I need a glass of water. I need a glass of water. ..." at me. Do not say "please".
Fill small containers with loose bits of paper and other items that are essentially just garbage.
Pitch a fit when I tell you that garbage goes in the garbage can. Respond by clutching the garbage to your chest as though it were your most treasured possession.
Grab a plastic egg you got for Easter two years ago. Stuff small blocks in it.
When I tell you that small stuff goes on the craft table, and not in an egg, ask "Whhhhhyyyyy?" in your most plaintive whiny voice.
While we're on that subject, ask "Whhhhhyyyyy?" in response to everything that is said, no matter how ridiculous the question may be at that juncture.
Try to trap your little brother under a baby gym by placing its legs on his throat.
Try (and fail) to look innocent and naive when I tell you to stop trying to murder your little brother with a baby gym.
Insist that you must sit on my lap and scream into the phone while I try to talk to the incompetent postal employees who lost the university application that I sent out on Wednesday by Express Post with guaranteed next day delivery. (Incidentally, the postal employee has refused to track the lost package and has told me to call back on Monday to check on its delivery status, at which time they will agree to track the package. Fat lot of good that will do, though, since it has to be received by Monday in order for me to get in; but thanks!)
Pour a bowl of Cheerios over the freshly swept floor. Put Cheerios back in bowl. Repeat, ad infinitum.
Nurse the same bowl of Cheerios for three hours.
When I tell you it's 2 hours to lunch and that breakfast is now officially over, flip out and run upstairs with your half-eaten bowl of Cheerios.
Make me chase you up the stairs as my bad knee throbs.
Stomp on the baby's "My First Reader" set and nearly break it.
Hunt through the house and find a non-washable ink pad. Hide it somewhere on your craft table. The next time I'm in the kitchen, grab that ink pad and make a wall mural in the living room.
Pour a bunch of choking hazards over the floor where the baby plays.
When I tell you to put those small items back on your craft table, respond by dumping all of them in a box that's sitting on the floor, in direct defiance of my instructions.
Run to the bathroom and ask me to pause Bugs Bunny, the show that is currently on TV.
When I tell you that this cannot be done (it's on TV, not on video), cry about it.
Inquire from the bathroom as to whether Bugs Bunny has ended. And when I tell you that it has, continue to check with me, just for clarification. Like so:
J: Is it over?!
T: Yes.
J: No! Bugs Bunny!
T: Yes.
J: No! Is Bugs Bunny over?!
T: Yes, it's over.
J: No! I mean Bugs Bunny! Is Bugs Bunny over?!
T: Yes. Bugs Bunny is over.
J: No! Bugs Bunny!! Is Bugs Bunny over?! Is it over?!
T: YES!! YES!! BUGS BUNNY IS OVER!! BUGS BUNNY!!! BUGS BUNNY!!! YES! BUGS BUNNY IS OVER!!!!!
Ask to watch "The Tale of the Mighty Knights" repeatedly. When it's movie time, wait until I start "The Tale of the Mighty Knights". Then run over to the craft table and start playing with your play-doh.
Ask me to play play-doh with you. And no matter what I say, repeat. Like so:
J: Do you want to play play-doh with me?
T: I thought you wanted to watch The Tale of the Mighty Knights.
J: Do you want to play play-doh with me?
T: Don't you want to watch The Tale of the Mighty Knights?
J: Do you want to play play-doh with me?
T: It's movie time, though, isn't it?
J: Do you want to play play-doh with me?
T: J. You asked for The Tale of the Mighty Knights.
J: Do you want to play play-doh with me?
T: Don't you want to watch The Tale of the Mighty Knights anymore?
J: NO!!!
T: Awesome.
Rip the baby gym apart and insist that it is your "fire gun".
When I ask you to put the gym back together, refuse to do so and forcefully throw the pieces on the floor instead.
When I pick you up to place you in time out, hit me.
Spend the next several minutes screaming and throwing toys at your closed bedroom door as you continue to tantrum while in time out.
Intentionally pee on the carpet in your bedroom, just to vex me.
Wake the baby.
Of course, there is nothing wrong with us. We're just fine. So why do both of us work outside of the home? And why might other couples make that same decision?
Well, there may be some fairly obvious financial considerations. And of course there are some developmental and social skills that a child can garner from early childhood development centres, which centres are reasonably unaffordable if you don't happen to have a dual income household. But perhaps the main reason to have two working parents is just plain sanity. 'Cause a full day at the office is vastly more relaxing than a morning at home with both my children. Quite frankly, it feels like a break. If you have children, you probably understand this. If not ... well, read on and you will very soon.
My child knows just exactly how to annoy me. Now, other people can get in there and really piss me off, too. But the 3-year old J has become quite the old hand at it. Bravo, J!
For those of you who aren't quite as adept, here is a quick reference guide on how to annoy me. And I venture to say that this list would transfer to pretty much anyone, so feel free to use it at your discretion. You can do all of these things in a short space of time. Just ask J, whose time management skills are so fabulous that he has done everything on this list today! (It's not even noon.)
Thanks, and have a lovely day.
After walking your father to the door to see him go off to work and promising not to cry, pitch a screaming fit with more tears than I've ever seen before.
Pace up and down the stairs, turning lights on and off and crying inconsollably.
Demand I call your father on his cell phone and tell him to return home at once so that he can pour you a glass of milk.
Insist that Daddy, and only Daddy, can give you milk; Mommy is not good enough.
When I theorize that you just miss your father and would like to talk to him, and so I phone him (at your insistence) so that you can talk, spend all your time on the phone shrieking at the top of your lungs that you need him to race home and pour you a glass of milk immediately.
Scream and cry for an hour about the fact that Daddy will not return home to pour you a glass of milk.
Unlock the front door, presumably to go searching for Daddy or to let Daddy back in so that he can pour you a glass of milk.
Do not tell me that you have unlocked the front door.
Insist on having both white and chocolate milk for breakfast, and demand to drink your chocolate milk with a spoon.
When I (very reluctantly) give you a spoon for your chocolate milk, insist that you want a different spoon.
Throw yourself on the kitchen floor, kick your feet, and scream incessantly about the fact that the spoon I gave you is inadequate, because it is not shiny and grey from top to bottom, did not originate from the cutlery drawer, and is not "breakable".
Continue to scream your demands for a spoon for the next 20 minutes.
When I hold up the spoon that I provided and ask you what it is, insist that it is a fork.
After the whole "milk" extravaganza ends, wait about ten minutes, and then rhythmically chant "I need a glass of water. I need a glass of water. I need a glass of water. ..." at me. Do not say "please".
Fill small containers with loose bits of paper and other items that are essentially just garbage.
Pitch a fit when I tell you that garbage goes in the garbage can. Respond by clutching the garbage to your chest as though it were your most treasured possession.
Grab a plastic egg you got for Easter two years ago. Stuff small blocks in it.
When I tell you that small stuff goes on the craft table, and not in an egg, ask "Whhhhhyyyyy?" in your most plaintive whiny voice.
While we're on that subject, ask "Whhhhhyyyyy?" in response to everything that is said, no matter how ridiculous the question may be at that juncture.
Try to trap your little brother under a baby gym by placing its legs on his throat.
Try (and fail) to look innocent and naive when I tell you to stop trying to murder your little brother with a baby gym.
Insist that you must sit on my lap and scream into the phone while I try to talk to the incompetent postal employees who lost the university application that I sent out on Wednesday by Express Post with guaranteed next day delivery. (Incidentally, the postal employee has refused to track the lost package and has told me to call back on Monday to check on its delivery status, at which time they will agree to track the package. Fat lot of good that will do, though, since it has to be received by Monday in order for me to get in; but thanks!)
Pour a bowl of Cheerios over the freshly swept floor. Put Cheerios back in bowl. Repeat, ad infinitum.
Nurse the same bowl of Cheerios for three hours.
When I tell you it's 2 hours to lunch and that breakfast is now officially over, flip out and run upstairs with your half-eaten bowl of Cheerios.
Make me chase you up the stairs as my bad knee throbs.
Stomp on the baby's "My First Reader" set and nearly break it.
Hunt through the house and find a non-washable ink pad. Hide it somewhere on your craft table. The next time I'm in the kitchen, grab that ink pad and make a wall mural in the living room.
Pour a bunch of choking hazards over the floor where the baby plays.
When I tell you to put those small items back on your craft table, respond by dumping all of them in a box that's sitting on the floor, in direct defiance of my instructions.
Run to the bathroom and ask me to pause Bugs Bunny, the show that is currently on TV.
When I tell you that this cannot be done (it's on TV, not on video), cry about it.
Inquire from the bathroom as to whether Bugs Bunny has ended. And when I tell you that it has, continue to check with me, just for clarification. Like so:
J: Is it over?!
T: Yes.
J: No! Bugs Bunny!
T: Yes.
J: No! Is Bugs Bunny over?!
T: Yes, it's over.
J: No! I mean Bugs Bunny! Is Bugs Bunny over?!
T: Yes. Bugs Bunny is over.
J: No! Bugs Bunny!! Is Bugs Bunny over?! Is it over?!
T: YES!! YES!! BUGS BUNNY IS OVER!! BUGS BUNNY!!! BUGS BUNNY!!! YES! BUGS BUNNY IS OVER!!!!!
Ask to watch "The Tale of the Mighty Knights" repeatedly. When it's movie time, wait until I start "The Tale of the Mighty Knights". Then run over to the craft table and start playing with your play-doh.
Ask me to play play-doh with you. And no matter what I say, repeat. Like so:
J: Do you want to play play-doh with me?
T: I thought you wanted to watch The Tale of the Mighty Knights.
J: Do you want to play play-doh with me?
T: Don't you want to watch The Tale of the Mighty Knights?
J: Do you want to play play-doh with me?
T: It's movie time, though, isn't it?
J: Do you want to play play-doh with me?
T: J. You asked for The Tale of the Mighty Knights.
J: Do you want to play play-doh with me?
T: Don't you want to watch The Tale of the Mighty Knights anymore?
J: NO!!!
T: Awesome.
Rip the baby gym apart and insist that it is your "fire gun".
When I ask you to put the gym back together, refuse to do so and forcefully throw the pieces on the floor instead.
When I pick you up to place you in time out, hit me.
Spend the next several minutes screaming and throwing toys at your closed bedroom door as you continue to tantrum while in time out.
Intentionally pee on the carpet in your bedroom, just to vex me.
Wake the baby.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Me and my identity crisis
I don't understand how I reached this point. I'm a musician, for crying out loud. I have a piano, a synthesizer and amp, guitar, violin, two flutes, and a few random percussion instruments in various parts of my house. I'm a pianist, but I dabble a bit. I have grade 9 Royal Conservatory and a college music diploma with a focus on jazz styles. There's a Real Book in my closet, where I also keep my score paper. I've been playing for 35 years, and writing for 25. And you just wouldn't think this kind of thing would happen. Why would it?
Going through college, things were good. And then, they weren't. Thoracic outlet syndrome. Cervical ribs, one on each side, cutting off the circulation to both arms. The ribs had to be removed. Scar tissue. Couldn't play for awhile. Couldn't lift, so my waitressing sideline was over. Minor nerve issues in the left hand impeded my playing. I'm a pianist, but for quite some time I lacked the necessary speed and agility to play professionally. I lack the patience required of a teacher. And there's even less calling for a composer than there is for a performer. Retraining became inevitable.
I worked in a collection agency for awhile. Debtors would hide. My job was to find them, locate their assets, and find a way to get the debt paid. I was good at it. Attention to detail helps. Got promoted to the legal department, and decided to retrain in that field. So I went to night school for paralegal certification. Worked in law firms for awhile, and it was all good. Until the day a lawyer told me that I didn't command a higher salary than average because, while I was smarter than average, my brains weren't required for my job. (Note for the future: Belittling staff is totally not the way to go.) And I decided to retrain again, to get past the financial glass ceiling and to command a bit more respect. Some paralegals go on to law school, but not me. In my time at the law firms, I'd learned that I didn't want to be a lawyer. I generally didn't like them very much.
I evaluated, considered my options, and settled on accounting. Music and math are highly inter-related. And the linguistic and problem solving skills I'd acquired as a paralegal would be transferrable. The training options matched with my lifestyle, so I could work while I learned. And I figured I'd probably enjoy it.
And I do. But still ... from music, to law, to accounting? It's an odd road I travel. But I'm traveling it and doing my best. I'm just over halfway done my designation now. I've gotten one scholarship thus far. Halfway through Level 4, and I've submitted my application for the integrated degree. When I'm done, I'll have an H.B.Com and a prestigious accounting designation. Pretty impressive, really.
But I'm a musician.
**********
This current class is in auditing. Dry as dirt in a summer drought. But it's required, so I plug along. Ten modules, five assignments, 12 weeks. As has become the norm of late, I am behind in my readings and playing catch up. I'm more behind than usual, however, and struggling to get through the past readings that I've missed. Not working out so well just yet. I'm sure I'll get there eventually. I always do.
Assignment #3 is due today. It includes a computer question, in which we're supposed to select a random sample of invoices using systematic dollar-unit sampling. (Yes, I now know what that is, much to my chagrin.) For systematic dollar-unit sampling, you take the cumulative population dollar total (P), divide it by the desired sample size (N), and set the interval (X). Then you select a random number (R) that's between the minimum (generally zero or one) and the maximum (usually P). And then you add X to R to find the next sample (R1), add X to R1 to find the next sample (R2), and so on until you've got N samples selected. No dollar value can exceed P, however, so interval X gets added until P is reached, and then it cycles back to the minimum number (generally zero or one) and starts over.
It's basically just really convoluted counting. See? Dry. Really, really dry. Drier than dry, actually. I need a beverage just thinking about it.
The computer question for Assignment #3 is to be completed in Excel, and both results and formulas are to be submitted for marking. The instructions say that random number R should be between zero and interval X. Takes a bit of time to set up, but then it all falls into place rather quickly. And no dollar value ever exceeds P, so there is no cycling back required.
Discussions in the student forum have revolved around whether or not a loopback provision should be built into the formula, even though no dollar value ever exceeds P. I say no; the dollar value never gets above the maximum, so we never have to start back at zero. Another student got all lofty on me and said that we should still provide the "correct" formula, even though in this case we never end up looping back. (The "correct" formula? You pretentious little snot ...) And I found myself actually typing this:
"In an audit, it is an inefficient use of time to build if-then loopback provisions into an Excel formula to deal with a situation that will never arise due to a mathematical impossibility. As long as R is set between zero and X, and as long as X is determined by dividing P by N, no number will ever be above P, even if R ends up being the maximum value of X.
Think about it:
The interval is P/N=X
R is a number between zero and X
N samples will be selected
Therefore, the maximum number that can ever be arrived at will be X*N=P
If it is mathematically impossible for a number to exceed P, no provisions will be required to deal with that non-existent contingency."
**********
I don't get how I just typed that. And I'm not sure why it makes complete sense to me. Because ... I'm a musician!!!
Going through college, things were good. And then, they weren't. Thoracic outlet syndrome. Cervical ribs, one on each side, cutting off the circulation to both arms. The ribs had to be removed. Scar tissue. Couldn't play for awhile. Couldn't lift, so my waitressing sideline was over. Minor nerve issues in the left hand impeded my playing. I'm a pianist, but for quite some time I lacked the necessary speed and agility to play professionally. I lack the patience required of a teacher. And there's even less calling for a composer than there is for a performer. Retraining became inevitable.
I worked in a collection agency for awhile. Debtors would hide. My job was to find them, locate their assets, and find a way to get the debt paid. I was good at it. Attention to detail helps. Got promoted to the legal department, and decided to retrain in that field. So I went to night school for paralegal certification. Worked in law firms for awhile, and it was all good. Until the day a lawyer told me that I didn't command a higher salary than average because, while I was smarter than average, my brains weren't required for my job. (Note for the future: Belittling staff is totally not the way to go.) And I decided to retrain again, to get past the financial glass ceiling and to command a bit more respect. Some paralegals go on to law school, but not me. In my time at the law firms, I'd learned that I didn't want to be a lawyer. I generally didn't like them very much.
I evaluated, considered my options, and settled on accounting. Music and math are highly inter-related. And the linguistic and problem solving skills I'd acquired as a paralegal would be transferrable. The training options matched with my lifestyle, so I could work while I learned. And I figured I'd probably enjoy it.
And I do. But still ... from music, to law, to accounting? It's an odd road I travel. But I'm traveling it and doing my best. I'm just over halfway done my designation now. I've gotten one scholarship thus far. Halfway through Level 4, and I've submitted my application for the integrated degree. When I'm done, I'll have an H.B.Com and a prestigious accounting designation. Pretty impressive, really.
But I'm a musician.
This current class is in auditing. Dry as dirt in a summer drought. But it's required, so I plug along. Ten modules, five assignments, 12 weeks. As has become the norm of late, I am behind in my readings and playing catch up. I'm more behind than usual, however, and struggling to get through the past readings that I've missed. Not working out so well just yet. I'm sure I'll get there eventually. I always do.
Assignment #3 is due today. It includes a computer question, in which we're supposed to select a random sample of invoices using systematic dollar-unit sampling. (Yes, I now know what that is, much to my chagrin.) For systematic dollar-unit sampling, you take the cumulative population dollar total (P), divide it by the desired sample size (N), and set the interval (X). Then you select a random number (R) that's between the minimum (generally zero or one) and the maximum (usually P). And then you add X to R to find the next sample (R1), add X to R1 to find the next sample (R2), and so on until you've got N samples selected. No dollar value can exceed P, however, so interval X gets added until P is reached, and then it cycles back to the minimum number (generally zero or one) and starts over.
It's basically just really convoluted counting. See? Dry. Really, really dry. Drier than dry, actually. I need a beverage just thinking about it.
The computer question for Assignment #3 is to be completed in Excel, and both results and formulas are to be submitted for marking. The instructions say that random number R should be between zero and interval X. Takes a bit of time to set up, but then it all falls into place rather quickly. And no dollar value ever exceeds P, so there is no cycling back required.
Discussions in the student forum have revolved around whether or not a loopback provision should be built into the formula, even though no dollar value ever exceeds P. I say no; the dollar value never gets above the maximum, so we never have to start back at zero. Another student got all lofty on me and said that we should still provide the "correct" formula, even though in this case we never end up looping back. (The "correct" formula? You pretentious little snot ...) And I found myself actually typing this:
"In an audit, it is an inefficient use of time to build if-then loopback provisions into an Excel formula to deal with a situation that will never arise due to a mathematical impossibility. As long as R is set between zero and X, and as long as X is determined by dividing P by N, no number will ever be above P, even if R ends up being the maximum value of X.
Think about it:
The interval is P/N=X
R is a number between zero and X
N samples will be selected
Therefore, the maximum number that can ever be arrived at will be X*N=P
If it is mathematically impossible for a number to exceed P, no provisions will be required to deal with that non-existent contingency."
I don't get how I just typed that. And I'm not sure why it makes complete sense to me. Because ... I'm a musician!!!
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Everybody hurts. Everybody cries. Everybody spits on the windshield of a Ferrari. Sometimes.
Sometimes, I forget that life with children is abnormal to those without kids. Sometimes, I fail to notice that things are a bit odd in our household. But then my bloggy friend Mrs. Mouthy comes along and reminds me that this is just not normal. In fact, it's comical. (Thanks, Ma'am; I'd temporarily forgotten to look for the humour in the situation.)
Mrs. Mouthy is a lovely person, with a wealth of patience. She has her bad weeks too, but always looks for and generally finds the humour in her life. Honestly, she's so brilliant that I can't even link to individual posts. There are just too many of them. Yup, she's that good. Go read her, and you'll see.
Anyway ...
**********
T has an assignment due this week.
T tries valiantly to get through her readings, or at least find the assignment answers and avoid a late fee. J and N work to see which can drive T crazier. N screams and refuses to have his morning nap. J insists that he is a Jack-in-the-Box ... trust me when I tell you that this sounds less disruptive than it really is. Every time N begins to nod off, J shrieks and wakes him again. H hollers at J to knock it off, which helps not in the least. J shrieks in delight. N screams, awake again. Finally, T has a mini-meltdown. She can't do this. Through tears, she tells H: "Either you guys go, or I go. I don't care which". And H goes out with the kids.
T works on her assignment. It is nearly 50% complete, when ...
H calls. He must return home. The van has a flat tire, and the winds have begun to gust. T needs to look after the kids while H changes the flat. They return. We eat. N is fed and put down for his nap. H goes out in the cold to change the flat.
J sobs because he can't help Daddy change the flat. Locks H out. Objects with violent screaming to the door being unlocked. Runs about like mad. Shrieks. Hits. Hollers "NNNNOOOOO!!" and continually awakens N. J receives a time out. And returns, not quite as subdued as one might hope.
J heads toward the door and turns on a light, as it is getting dark in the living room. Nervous that he is about to lock the door again:
T: What are you doing over there, J?
J: (turns light off) But I want it to be bright.
T: Oh. Then turn the light back on.
J: NO!
T: Just turn on the light and it will be bright.
J: NOOOO! Not the big one!!!
T: Fine. (reaches over and turns on the small light)
J: Turn the light off!
T: No. I need the light now.
J: But it's hurting my eyes!!
T: It is not.
J: YES IT IS!!
T: No, it's not.
J: YES IT IIIIIISSSSS!!!!!
T: (in a horrible, hissing whisper) Stop screaming! If you wake up N again, I will be forced to strangle you slowly, with a hairbrush or something!
And then my head spun completely around. I swear it. My chiropractor will have his work cut out for him when next I have time to see him. At this rate, I expect that will be in about 23,867,978 years.
A few moments pass:
T: Please put N's carseat back where you found it.
J: Okay. (climbing into carseat box) But first, I have to pretend to be a mail carrier.
Because all mail carriers live inside a carseat box. Didn't you know? Me neither!
**********
The light is still on. N is sleeping again. H has headed to Canadian Tire to try and get the flat repaired. J is very much alive and, as I type this, he is sitting beside me, licking the windshield of his remote controlled Ferrari like some kind of deranged cat and pretending his spit is wiper fluid as he forces the wiper back and forth and nearly breaks the thing right off. (Once when his attention was distracted, I removed the Ferrari from the couch and hid it. But when he pitched a fit, I decided one little Ferrari wiper just wasn't worth it. Seriously. It's not.)
All's right with the world. But there may well be a late assignment fee in my future.
**********
Update: Five minutes after his Ferrari was returned to the couch, at his insistence:
J: Mommy, can you please take the Ferrari off the couch?
I'm going to throw something. Possibly the Ferrari. Which J is licking again. And scrubbing. With a hairbrush. I'm not even kidding.
Send vodka.
Mrs. Mouthy is a lovely person, with a wealth of patience. She has her bad weeks too, but always looks for and generally finds the humour in her life. Honestly, she's so brilliant that I can't even link to individual posts. There are just too many of them. Yup, she's that good. Go read her, and you'll see.
Anyway ...
T has an assignment due this week.
T tries valiantly to get through her readings, or at least find the assignment answers and avoid a late fee. J and N work to see which can drive T crazier. N screams and refuses to have his morning nap. J insists that he is a Jack-in-the-Box ... trust me when I tell you that this sounds less disruptive than it really is. Every time N begins to nod off, J shrieks and wakes him again. H hollers at J to knock it off, which helps not in the least. J shrieks in delight. N screams, awake again. Finally, T has a mini-meltdown. She can't do this. Through tears, she tells H: "Either you guys go, or I go. I don't care which". And H goes out with the kids.
T works on her assignment. It is nearly 50% complete, when ...
H calls. He must return home. The van has a flat tire, and the winds have begun to gust. T needs to look after the kids while H changes the flat. They return. We eat. N is fed and put down for his nap. H goes out in the cold to change the flat.
J sobs because he can't help Daddy change the flat. Locks H out. Objects with violent screaming to the door being unlocked. Runs about like mad. Shrieks. Hits. Hollers "NNNNOOOOO!!" and continually awakens N. J receives a time out. And returns, not quite as subdued as one might hope.
J heads toward the door and turns on a light, as it is getting dark in the living room. Nervous that he is about to lock the door again:
T: What are you doing over there, J?
J: (turns light off) But I want it to be bright.
T: Oh. Then turn the light back on.
J: NO!
T: Just turn on the light and it will be bright.
J: NOOOO! Not the big one!!!
T: Fine. (reaches over and turns on the small light)
J: Turn the light off!
T: No. I need the light now.
J: But it's hurting my eyes!!
T: It is not.
J: YES IT IS!!
T: No, it's not.
J: YES IT IIIIIISSSSS!!!!!
T: (in a horrible, hissing whisper) Stop screaming! If you wake up N again, I will be forced to strangle you slowly, with a hairbrush or something!
And then my head spun completely around. I swear it. My chiropractor will have his work cut out for him when next I have time to see him. At this rate, I expect that will be in about 23,867,978 years.
A few moments pass:
T: Please put N's carseat back where you found it.
J: Okay. (climbing into carseat box) But first, I have to pretend to be a mail carrier.
Because all mail carriers live inside a carseat box. Didn't you know? Me neither!
The light is still on. N is sleeping again. H has headed to Canadian Tire to try and get the flat repaired. J is very much alive and, as I type this, he is sitting beside me, licking the windshield of his remote controlled Ferrari like some kind of deranged cat and pretending his spit is wiper fluid as he forces the wiper back and forth and nearly breaks the thing right off. (Once when his attention was distracted, I removed the Ferrari from the couch and hid it. But when he pitched a fit, I decided one little Ferrari wiper just wasn't worth it. Seriously. It's not.)
All's right with the world. But there may well be a late assignment fee in my future.
Update: Five minutes after his Ferrari was returned to the couch, at his insistence:
J: Mommy, can you please take the Ferrari off the couch?
I'm going to throw something. Possibly the Ferrari. Which J is licking again. And scrubbing. With a hairbrush. I'm not even kidding.
Send vodka.
Thursday, December 04, 2008
Da Victory and Da Feet
My exam is over. (HURRAH! HURRAH!)
I think it went pretty well. I lost several marks for careless errors, but that happens. I feel fairly certain that I passed. Probably with something in the 70's or maybe low 80's. Probably not high enough for scholarship money this year, but as long as I don't have to redo the class or re-write the exam, I'll count myself fortunate. Sad, though ... that scholarship sure would have been nice.
Marks get released January 27. I hate the long wait, but that's how it always is. Now, on to my next course ... Auditing. I hope I enjoy this one a bit more.
Since I have been released from my studying dungeon for the time being, I now have time to post this little anecdote.
**********
I took a brief study break one evening last week, and we went out for dinner as a family. I left the table for a short time to change N's diaper, and H entertained J.
There was a nice man sitting at a nearby table who thought J was pretty cute. Kept calling J "Batman", wanting to play peek-a-boo, that sort of thing. While I was gone, he caught J's eye, and he smiled and waved. And J flipped out. "Daddy, I'm scared", J cried out, before hiding in a teeny huddled mass in H's lap.
Once he felt more secure, he decided to strike up a converation with the nice man, who we will call Bert, for the sake of this entry.
J: My mommy broke her knee.
Bert: Did she?
J: Yes. She stepped on the cat and broke her knee.
Bert: Oh! Well ... Is the cat okay?
H: Yes, the cat is fine.
J: But she had to go down to heaven.
Okay, just to clarify this. The cat went to heaven because she'd had kidney failure for the past eight years and was starting to suffer. Not because I crushed her with my giant lard feet of doom.
Also, I know that heaven is "up". I've explained this on several occasions, but J seems unconvinced.
I think it went pretty well. I lost several marks for careless errors, but that happens. I feel fairly certain that I passed. Probably with something in the 70's or maybe low 80's. Probably not high enough for scholarship money this year, but as long as I don't have to redo the class or re-write the exam, I'll count myself fortunate. Sad, though ... that scholarship sure would have been nice.
Marks get released January 27. I hate the long wait, but that's how it always is. Now, on to my next course ... Auditing. I hope I enjoy this one a bit more.
Since I have been released from my studying dungeon for the time being, I now have time to post this little anecdote.
I took a brief study break one evening last week, and we went out for dinner as a family. I left the table for a short time to change N's diaper, and H entertained J.
There was a nice man sitting at a nearby table who thought J was pretty cute. Kept calling J "Batman", wanting to play peek-a-boo, that sort of thing. While I was gone, he caught J's eye, and he smiled and waved. And J flipped out. "Daddy, I'm scared", J cried out, before hiding in a teeny huddled mass in H's lap.
Once he felt more secure, he decided to strike up a converation with the nice man, who we will call Bert, for the sake of this entry.
J: My mommy broke her knee.
Bert: Did she?
J: Yes. She stepped on the cat and broke her knee.
Bert: Oh! Well ... Is the cat okay?
H: Yes, the cat is fine.
J: But she had to go down to heaven.
Okay, just to clarify this. The cat went to heaven because she'd had kidney failure for the past eight years and was starting to suffer. Not because I crushed her with my giant lard feet of doom.
Also, I know that heaven is "up". I've explained this on several occasions, but J seems unconvinced.
Monday, December 01, 2008
Things you never thought you'd hear yourself say
T: Don't throw your head at your brother!!!
***********
I've been absent a bit of late. My exam is Wednesday night. Studying frantically until it's done. It's starting to come together. Sort of. Not leaving much time for anything else, though. I don't think I'll be around much until it's over. So ... yeah.
See you all Thursday!
I've been absent a bit of late. My exam is Wednesday night. Studying frantically until it's done. It's starting to come together. Sort of. Not leaving much time for anything else, though. I don't think I'll be around much until it's over. So ... yeah.
See you all Thursday!
Thursday, November 27, 2008
All we hear is radio BLAH, BLAH, BLAH
By definition, an Exam Preparation Audio Lecture should be designed to prepare students for an exam. (Kind of like how Management Information Systems are information systems for managers; the definition is inherent in the title.) So, one may ask what students require to prepare for an exam. Or at the very least, one should ask this question when one is the course audio lecturer. If one does trouble oneself to ask the question, one will learn that the answer is really quite simple.
We require a strategy. The exam must be completed within three hours. What kinds of questions are likely to be featured on the exam? How can we best complete questions such as these in the shortest amount of time possible? Are there any specific techniques that we may use in order to keep the 60-some formulas we have learned in this course intact? How should we best spend our time? The setting of a time budget should be reviewed. Opinion of what is likely to be featured should be provided, though the actual exam contents should not be disclosed.
We also require practice. Provide a series of sample questions. Cover a diverse base. And walk through completion of those questions, so that we may better understand how to arrive at a correct answer.
What we do not require is regurgitation of concepts previously studied in the text or lesson notes. We also do not require any statements that "This was covered in the earlier lectures, so if you have any questions, go back and listen to those". Nor do we require any particulars about the lecturer's favourite hockey teams, which details I am almost certain will not be examinable.
Finally, and perhaps most importantly, we do not require a point by point on the lecturer's position. "I am sitting". "Now, I think I shall stand and walk about". "I am suddenly tired, so I think I should sit once more, if that's okay with all of you". With all due respect, it is an audio lecture. I cannot see the lecturer, nor do I care to. His movements do not interest me. I only care about what he says. In all honesty, he could be recording his lecture as he sits on the crapper, and I would still get every bit as much out of it. (But please, dear lecturer, do not actually say "Now, I am sitting on the crapper". This detail is totally unnecessary.)
Perhaps next time you record an Exam Preparation Audio Lecture for your class, you could take some of these tips to heart and provide students with something vaguely usable. 'Cause that would be sweet.
And now, I must return to studying and/or sleeping and/or caring for young children and/or ... I guess I could have titled this post "But there never seems to be enough time", but that just wasn't as cool.
And just to wrap things up on a pleasant note: I hope all my American bloggy friends had a wonderful Thanksgiving today. 'Cause you are all awesome and deserve much happiness and many pleasant days. All the best!
We require a strategy. The exam must be completed within three hours. What kinds of questions are likely to be featured on the exam? How can we best complete questions such as these in the shortest amount of time possible? Are there any specific techniques that we may use in order to keep the 60-some formulas we have learned in this course intact? How should we best spend our time? The setting of a time budget should be reviewed. Opinion of what is likely to be featured should be provided, though the actual exam contents should not be disclosed.
We also require practice. Provide a series of sample questions. Cover a diverse base. And walk through completion of those questions, so that we may better understand how to arrive at a correct answer.
What we do not require is regurgitation of concepts previously studied in the text or lesson notes. We also do not require any statements that "This was covered in the earlier lectures, so if you have any questions, go back and listen to those". Nor do we require any particulars about the lecturer's favourite hockey teams, which details I am almost certain will not be examinable.
Finally, and perhaps most importantly, we do not require a point by point on the lecturer's position. "I am sitting". "Now, I think I shall stand and walk about". "I am suddenly tired, so I think I should sit once more, if that's okay with all of you". With all due respect, it is an audio lecture. I cannot see the lecturer, nor do I care to. His movements do not interest me. I only care about what he says. In all honesty, he could be recording his lecture as he sits on the crapper, and I would still get every bit as much out of it. (But please, dear lecturer, do not actually say "Now, I am sitting on the crapper". This detail is totally unnecessary.)
Perhaps next time you record an Exam Preparation Audio Lecture for your class, you could take some of these tips to heart and provide students with something vaguely usable. 'Cause that would be sweet.
And now, I must return to studying and/or sleeping and/or caring for young children and/or ... I guess I could have titled this post "But there never seems to be enough time", but that just wasn't as cool.
And just to wrap things up on a pleasant note: I hope all my American bloggy friends had a wonderful Thanksgiving today. 'Cause you are all awesome and deserve much happiness and many pleasant days. All the best!
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
A petri dish of principle
So I'm trying to study for my exam, which is in a week. And, I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but all of the materials for this course changed for the 2008-09 school year. Dramatically changed. So that all the past exams from 2001 to 2008 ... yeah, none of them totally apply. Bits and pieces are usable, but for the most part they're not particularly helpful. So I'm studying them anyway, just for form and also to make sure I know the stuff that's still applicable, precious little of it that there is.
Also? There's an online course review that's supposed to be updated to the current term's materials. But it seems that someone just slapped "2008-09" on the top of last year's review and didn't touch anything else. Which is totally brilliant, and I hope they were paid well for this sheer genius.
Oh! And there are multiple choice questions that are meant to simulate the kind of multiple choice section we might see on our exam. Except that they aren't properly cross-referenced, no new material is included, one module is missing in its entirety, and much of the stuff we didn't study is still included.
But hey. It's a new course. And there are bound to be some growing pains. We're all trying to work through it and hoping for the best.
So anyway, I'm running one of the past exams from 2001, and I see an ethics question on the difference between in vivo and in vitro ethical principles. And I'm all "in vitro ethics?", and I wonder how exactly that would work. And also, what it is, since it's not in our current course materials but in my mind "in vitro" totally means something not remotely affiliated with accounting, except for the fact that it's really expensive. So then I start wondering how they can tell the girl ethics from the boy ethics, how they combine them together, where they implant, what the success rate is and, perhaps most importantly, what is this going to cost me this time? Because the Clomid was expensive enough. And also, I don't want to pay any more for this class, which was totally overpriced. And that's when I flashed back to that time in my earlier management accounting course where we were learning about ways to improve the CM ratio and I couldn't stop thinking about Robitussin cough syrup and how that totally works, but also has nothing to do with accounting, so I really don't know why we were studying it. I wish I knew why my management accounting courses always seem to reference stuff like this, 'cause I think that's awesome.
Suffice it to say, I am over-tired just now. And really ticked off at my course and its outdated resources. Also, I still have no clue what in vitro or in vivo ethics actually are or how to tell them apart, nor do I know why I should care.
Also? There's an online course review that's supposed to be updated to the current term's materials. But it seems that someone just slapped "2008-09" on the top of last year's review and didn't touch anything else. Which is totally brilliant, and I hope they were paid well for this sheer genius.
Oh! And there are multiple choice questions that are meant to simulate the kind of multiple choice section we might see on our exam. Except that they aren't properly cross-referenced, no new material is included, one module is missing in its entirety, and much of the stuff we didn't study is still included.
But hey. It's a new course. And there are bound to be some growing pains. We're all trying to work through it and hoping for the best.
So anyway, I'm running one of the past exams from 2001, and I see an ethics question on the difference between in vivo and in vitro ethical principles. And I'm all "in vitro ethics?", and I wonder how exactly that would work. And also, what it is, since it's not in our current course materials but in my mind "in vitro" totally means something not remotely affiliated with accounting, except for the fact that it's really expensive. So then I start wondering how they can tell the girl ethics from the boy ethics, how they combine them together, where they implant, what the success rate is and, perhaps most importantly, what is this going to cost me this time? Because the Clomid was expensive enough. And also, I don't want to pay any more for this class, which was totally overpriced. And that's when I flashed back to that time in my earlier management accounting course where we were learning about ways to improve the CM ratio and I couldn't stop thinking about Robitussin cough syrup and how that totally works, but also has nothing to do with accounting, so I really don't know why we were studying it. I wish I knew why my management accounting courses always seem to reference stuff like this, 'cause I think that's awesome.
Suffice it to say, I am over-tired just now. And really ticked off at my course and its outdated resources. Also, I still have no clue what in vitro or in vivo ethics actually are or how to tell them apart, nor do I know why I should care.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Ooh baby, it's freakishly cold outside
So, I came up with this awesome flowchart to remember eleven of the different variance analysis formulas I may need for my exam. It's complex and detailed, but it works like a charm. Easy to remember, it can be reproduced with pen and paper in under a minute. I posted it in the course forum for all of my classmates. The course director reviewed it and wrote me to say "This is amazing!", and so I feel all smart. I am flattered. But not so flattered as to do something stupid like reproduce a management accounting variance analysis flowchart here. Because it's ridiculously dull, and no one wants to see that.
Instead, I present random cuteness from our "winter attire" catalogue.
Baby N is wearing a fleecy that will soon not be warm enough, given our cold northern climes. But for now, he is all warm and fuzzy. And quite adorable, if you'll take J's word for it. J says "Awww. He's soooo cute. Is he a sheepy?" And then he taunts N by making "baa baa" noises at him. For about an hour. Then the novelty wore off. (Thank God!)
J sports the coolest winter coat I have ever seen. We found it a couple of years ago; a brand new item buried in a clearance rack, sporting a sweet $3 price tag. Obviously, we nabbed it knowing he'd grow into it eventually. The eyes on the hood double as reflectors for nighttime safety. And it has a detachable black cape on the back, for extra Batman authenticity. (But why a person would detach it, I can't imagine. 'Cause I think it's awesome!) J's hands are a bit blurred in the picture. He was excited about being a bat here, and he was flapping his "wings" excitedly.
So, how about you? Is your family all outfitted for winter? Is your weather already freakishly cold? Do you enjoy snow and winter sports in general? Or do you wish we could just skip those eight months in their entirety? (Yes. I said "eight months". It's terribly cold up here.)
Instead, I present random cuteness from our "winter attire" catalogue.
Baby N is wearing a fleecy that will soon not be warm enough, given our cold northern climes. But for now, he is all warm and fuzzy. And quite adorable, if you'll take J's word for it. J says "Awww. He's soooo cute. Is he a sheepy?" And then he taunts N by making "baa baa" noises at him. For about an hour. Then the novelty wore off. (Thank God!)
J sports the coolest winter coat I have ever seen. We found it a couple of years ago; a brand new item buried in a clearance rack, sporting a sweet $3 price tag. Obviously, we nabbed it knowing he'd grow into it eventually. The eyes on the hood double as reflectors for nighttime safety. And it has a detachable black cape on the back, for extra Batman authenticity. (But why a person would detach it, I can't imagine. 'Cause I think it's awesome!) J's hands are a bit blurred in the picture. He was excited about being a bat here, and he was flapping his "wings" excitedly.
So, how about you? Is your family all outfitted for winter? Is your weather already freakishly cold? Do you enjoy snow and winter sports in general? Or do you wish we could just skip those eight months in their entirety? (Yes. I said "eight months". It's terribly cold up here.)
Friday, November 21, 2008
Fine young cannibals
Yes, I'm aware of what time it is. I'm on a study break. Surfing around the Internets to pass some time 'til my mind clears.
I love you, always forever
Near and far, closer together
Everywhere, I will be with you
Everything, I will do for you
Yes, I said I'm on a study break. Yes. I'm aware of what time it is. What's your point?
I love you, always forever
Near and far, closer together
Everywhere, I will be with you
Everything, I will do for you
Okay. So I've got a friggin' Donna Lewis song stuck in my head. And it's running on repeat. It's annoying enough the first time. But after several hours of it, you start praying for the sweet release of death.
I love you, always forever
Near and far, closer together
Everywhere, I will be with you
Everything, I will do for you
What's especially bad is that I don't know the whole song. Just the chorus. I keep hearing the chorus. Over. And. Over. I can't seem to reach the stop button in my brain.
And I don't even like the song!
I love you, always forever
Near and far, closer together
Everywhere, I will be with you
Everything, I will do for you
It was playing on a TV program earlier today. Just a bit of background noise. And this is how it came to be in my head. I am apparently powerless to remove it.
I love you, always forever
Near and far, closer together
Everywhere, I will be with you
Everything, I will do for you
I thought I might be able to exorcise my demons, if I could just play the entire song from beginning to end. When it finished, the automatic repeat in my head would end. This sometimes works. But I don't know the entire song. Foiled again!
I love you, always forever
Near and far, closer together
Everywhere, I will be with you
Everything, I will do for you
Fortunately, Google allows me to search for lyrics.
Unfortunately, a number of sites contain misheard lyrics.
Fortunately, those can be highly entertaining.
I love you, always forever
Near and far, closer together
Everywhere, I will be with you
Everyday, I will devour you
Unfortunately, the song is still stuck in my head.
Fortunately, now that it's sung by a crazed cannibalistic lover instead of a whiny love-struck sap, I don't mind it quite so much.
Near and far, closer together
Everywhere, I will be with you
Everything, I will do for you
Yes, I said I'm on a study break. Yes. I'm aware of what time it is. What's your point?
Near and far, closer together
Everywhere, I will be with you
Everything, I will do for you
Okay. So I've got a friggin' Donna Lewis song stuck in my head. And it's running on repeat. It's annoying enough the first time. But after several hours of it, you start praying for the sweet release of death.
Near and far, closer together
Everywhere, I will be with you
Everything, I will do for you
What's especially bad is that I don't know the whole song. Just the chorus. I keep hearing the chorus. Over. And. Over. I can't seem to reach the stop button in my brain.
And I don't even like the song!
Near and far, closer together
Everywhere, I will be with you
Everything, I will do for you
It was playing on a TV program earlier today. Just a bit of background noise. And this is how it came to be in my head. I am apparently powerless to remove it.
Near and far, closer together
Everywhere, I will be with you
Everything, I will do for you
I thought I might be able to exorcise my demons, if I could just play the entire song from beginning to end. When it finished, the automatic repeat in my head would end. This sometimes works. But I don't know the entire song. Foiled again!
Near and far, closer together
Everywhere, I will be with you
Everything, I will do for you
Fortunately, Google allows me to search for lyrics.
Unfortunately, a number of sites contain misheard lyrics.
Fortunately, those can be highly entertaining.
Near and far, closer together
Everywhere, I will be with you
Everyday, I will devour you
Unfortunately, the song is still stuck in my head.
Fortunately, now that it's sung by a crazed cannibalistic lover instead of a whiny love-struck sap, I don't mind it quite so much.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
The Spin Cycle: My favourite things
I'm feeling a little bit more positive today. (This is no doubt due in part to my discovery that eleven of the seventeen formulas I have to learn for Module 2 are interconnected. As long as I can remember the web that connects them to each other, I should be okay with them. Now to learn everything else. The "Exam Formulas" link over on the right? Don't click it. It's seriously just exam formulas I still need to learn. It will bore you. Enough about the exam for now. It will be okay. I think.)
Today, I learned that the knee has healed up enough to be able to withstand physio. So that's fantastic news, as it means things are improving.
Also today, N turned six months old. He eats like a little piggy, in direct contrast to his older brother, and is getting quite plump. Granny calls him her little butterball. A six-month-birthday post will be written when I have more energy.
The kids got up early today. The doctor's office was a long wait. There was considerable studying today. And now, I am tired. And lazy. And it seemed like a good time to just give up and go for the archives. How convenient that Sprite's Keeper has asked us to revive our old favourite posts for this week's Spin Cycle!
(I love her!)
I don't have much to grab, to be frank. Until late August this year, this was one of those private unsearchable blogs for a few family and friends, and so older posts were not written with due care and attention, and are totally not suitable for re-posting. What to do ... what to do ...
It is my understanding that American Thanksgiving is coming up soon. In celebration, I give you my post from Canadian Thanksgiving. Which was over a month ago. Because we're awesome like that up here, and we don't believe in waiting a month when turkey can be eaten right now. Seriously. What's wrong with you people?
Oh, whatever. Just ... Here ya go!
**********
Now it's turkish delight on a moonlit night
Today is Canadian Thanksgiving. In our household, it goes something like this.
**********
H: J, put your shoes on please.
J: I got the green!
T: J, can you please move that toy?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I wanna take this hammer!
H: Fine. But put your shoes on please.
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: J, I really need you to move this.
H: Please do what your mother tells you.
J: I got that green, too!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Come on! I need to pee!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: Why did you take your pants off, J?
J: I ... um ... can't remember.
T: I can't get around that toy, J. It's too big.
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: N's crying.
T: J! Will you please move that toy!
H: J! Pants! On!
T: Honey, you're confusing him.
J: I wanna take this saw too!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: N, please stop.
J: I want chocolate!
H: No, J. We're going to have dinner.
T: Pants! Toy! Now!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: But I want chocolate!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Please? Please move the toy?
H: No chocolate! Listen!!
T: (Singing to N) Rock-a-bye, baby ...
H: J, put your pants back on.
J: Why?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: Because I asked you to!
T: ... when the wind blows ...
J: But I want ... um ...
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: I am tired of you saying "I want"!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: ... the cradle will fall ...
J: But Daaaaadddddyyyyy!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I want ...
H: Stop saying that!
T: Please stop crying, N? *sob*
J: Whyyyy??
T: H, can you move the toy?
H: J! Move that toy!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: J? Please?
H: Why won't you listen, J?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I wanna watch "The Incredibles"!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: N, please stop crying!
T: What?! No! We are not watching a movie!
J: But Mooooommmmyyyy!
T: I said no!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: J! Put your pants on!
J: Umm ... I ... I wanna ... umm ...
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Enough! I need to pee! Move the toy!!
J: I give you the toy!
H: Good, J. Now please, put your pants back on.
T: Thank you, J.
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: You're welcome, Momma.
H: N! Please?!
J: Can we watch "The Incredibles"?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: No, J. It's time to go!
T: How are you doing, honey?
H: Just great! J?! Now!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: But I'm just spinning!
T: I'll be right there!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Okay. Can we go?
H: J! Pants!
J: Um ... oh! Okay!
H: Thank you, J.
T: Okay. Now can you put your shoes on?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I want my boots!
T: No. You need to wear shoes.
J: But I want my boots!
H: No, J! Shoes! Put them on!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: ...
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: ...
**********
Today, I am thankful that H didn't just drive off the embankment on the way to his brother's house for Thanksgiving. Thanks, Hon!
And Happy Turkey Day!!
**********
So yeah. That was the post. Heartfelt family moments. Still makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Now go visit Sprite's Keeper and put your spin on it!
Today, I learned that the knee has healed up enough to be able to withstand physio. So that's fantastic news, as it means things are improving.
Also today, N turned six months old. He eats like a little piggy, in direct contrast to his older brother, and is getting quite plump. Granny calls him her little butterball. A six-month-birthday post will be written when I have more energy.
The kids got up early today. The doctor's office was a long wait. There was considerable studying today. And now, I am tired. And lazy. And it seemed like a good time to just give up and go for the archives. How convenient that Sprite's Keeper has asked us to revive our old favourite posts for this week's Spin Cycle!
(I love her!)
I don't have much to grab, to be frank. Until late August this year, this was one of those private unsearchable blogs for a few family and friends, and so older posts were not written with due care and attention, and are totally not suitable for re-posting. What to do ... what to do ...
It is my understanding that American Thanksgiving is coming up soon. In celebration, I give you my post from Canadian Thanksgiving. Which was over a month ago. Because we're awesome like that up here, and we don't believe in waiting a month when turkey can be eaten right now. Seriously. What's wrong with you people?
Oh, whatever. Just ... Here ya go!
Now it's turkish delight on a moonlit night
Today is Canadian Thanksgiving. In our household, it goes something like this.
H: J, put your shoes on please.
J: I got the green!
T: J, can you please move that toy?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I wanna take this hammer!
H: Fine. But put your shoes on please.
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: J, I really need you to move this.
H: Please do what your mother tells you.
J: I got that green, too!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Come on! I need to pee!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: Why did you take your pants off, J?
J: I ... um ... can't remember.
T: I can't get around that toy, J. It's too big.
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: N's crying.
T: J! Will you please move that toy!
H: J! Pants! On!
T: Honey, you're confusing him.
J: I wanna take this saw too!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: N, please stop.
J: I want chocolate!
H: No, J. We're going to have dinner.
T: Pants! Toy! Now!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: But I want chocolate!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Please? Please move the toy?
H: No chocolate! Listen!!
T: (Singing to N) Rock-a-bye, baby ...
H: J, put your pants back on.
J: Why?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: Because I asked you to!
T: ... when the wind blows ...
J: But I want ... um ...
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: I am tired of you saying "I want"!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: ... the cradle will fall ...
J: But Daaaaadddddyyyyy!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I want ...
H: Stop saying that!
T: Please stop crying, N? *sob*
J: Whyyyy??
T: H, can you move the toy?
H: J! Move that toy!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: J? Please?
H: Why won't you listen, J?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I wanna watch "The Incredibles"!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: N, please stop crying!
T: What?! No! We are not watching a movie!
J: But Mooooommmmyyyy!
T: I said no!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: J! Put your pants on!
J: Umm ... I ... I wanna ... umm ...
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Enough! I need to pee! Move the toy!!
J: I give you the toy!
H: Good, J. Now please, put your pants back on.
T: Thank you, J.
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: You're welcome, Momma.
H: N! Please?!
J: Can we watch "The Incredibles"?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: No, J. It's time to go!
T: How are you doing, honey?
H: Just great! J?! Now!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: But I'm just spinning!
T: I'll be right there!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Okay. Can we go?
H: J! Pants!
J: Um ... oh! Okay!
H: Thank you, J.
T: Okay. Now can you put your shoes on?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I want my boots!
T: No. You need to wear shoes.
J: But I want my boots!
H: No, J! Shoes! Put them on!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: ...
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: ...
Today, I am thankful that H didn't just drive off the embankment on the way to his brother's house for Thanksgiving. Thanks, Hon!
And Happy Turkey Day!!
So yeah. That was the post. Heartfelt family moments. Still makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Now go visit Sprite's Keeper and put your spin on it!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
I can't. I can't. I can't stand ... this
I can't do it.
I can't handle two kids, a birth mom with cancer, two parents with dementia, a child with an eating disorder, a broken knee that still hurts like the devil, vehicle repairs, money concerns, and school. I can't pass this class. I can't memorize the 15 formulas that relate to Module 2, plus all the formulas in the remaining 9 modules, plus all the theory. I can't catch up on all the reading that I skipped over entirely or skimmed over casually when life was so crazy that I just ran out of time. I can't prepare for the exam with the resources that have been provided, given that half the course is new material with inadequate practice resources.
I especially can't do it in two weeks, which is the time that remains until the exam date.
I can't. I can't do it.
I should probably mention that I always panic two weeks before every exam, and it always turns out okay. I don't think it will, but it does. But right now, I feel very ill-equipped, and I don't know if that will change before the exam date. I feel stupid and poorly prepared and stressed and miserable. And I think I should probably just drop out of school. But I can't do that either.
Updated to add: You know what would really help me out right now? That's right. An ear infection. That, and the baby's swing battery dying. Again. HAHA!!
I can't handle two kids, a birth mom with cancer, two parents with dementia, a child with an eating disorder, a broken knee that still hurts like the devil, vehicle repairs, money concerns, and school. I can't pass this class. I can't memorize the 15 formulas that relate to Module 2, plus all the formulas in the remaining 9 modules, plus all the theory. I can't catch up on all the reading that I skipped over entirely or skimmed over casually when life was so crazy that I just ran out of time. I can't prepare for the exam with the resources that have been provided, given that half the course is new material with inadequate practice resources.
I especially can't do it in two weeks, which is the time that remains until the exam date.
I can't. I can't do it.
I should probably mention that I always panic two weeks before every exam, and it always turns out okay. I don't think it will, but it does. But right now, I feel very ill-equipped, and I don't know if that will change before the exam date. I feel stupid and poorly prepared and stressed and miserable. And I think I should probably just drop out of school. But I can't do that either.
Updated to add: You know what would really help me out right now? That's right. An ear infection. That, and the baby's swing battery dying. Again. HAHA!!
Friday, November 14, 2008
The Spin Cycle: Relax? I don't do it
I'm late. I'm late.
For a very important (Spin Cycle) date.
No time to say "Hello"
Goodbye!
I'm late. I'm late. I'm late.
**********
Sprite's Keeper asks "How do you relax"? That's a good question!
Life here tends to get mighty busy. Even right now, while I'm on maternity leave. I'm a mom of two and a full-time student. Ordinarily, I also work outside of the home. Add in the household chores and you'll see I'm not left with many extra hours in the day. I rarely get enough sleep. Sometimes, I forget to eat. In my spare time, I wish for spare time.
Relaxing tends to take the form of study breaks. And as luck would have it, I study at my computer. So how do I relax? By reading all of your blogs, of course! I love them!!
**********
Okay. Got to go. The kids are asleep, and I've got an exam in a few short weeks. Must study now.
**********
And ...
I'm late. I'm late.
For a very important (study) date.
No time to say "Hello"
Goodbye!
I'm late. I'm late. I'm late.
For a very important (Spin Cycle) date.
No time to say "Hello"
Goodbye!
I'm late. I'm late. I'm late.
Sprite's Keeper asks "How do you relax"? That's a good question!
Life here tends to get mighty busy. Even right now, while I'm on maternity leave. I'm a mom of two and a full-time student. Ordinarily, I also work outside of the home. Add in the household chores and you'll see I'm not left with many extra hours in the day. I rarely get enough sleep. Sometimes, I forget to eat. In my spare time, I wish for spare time.
Relaxing tends to take the form of study breaks. And as luck would have it, I study at my computer. So how do I relax? By reading all of your blogs, of course! I love them!!
Okay. Got to go. The kids are asleep, and I've got an exam in a few short weeks. Must study now.
And ...
I'm late. I'm late.
For a very important (study) date.
No time to say "Hello"
Goodbye!
I'm late. I'm late. I'm late.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Pearl jam
By highschool, my life had changed substantially. Fewer bullies. Better coping skills. And though it was still possible, it took a lot more to make me run away. New environment. New people. I was a better fit.
An observer who sat on the sidelines, I was able to blend. At the first sign of trouble, I moved swiftly into avoidance mode, and I was rarely backed into a corner. I had learned well. There were usually many ways to stay out of trouble. And when I was firmly stuck in the mess, it was never for long. I'd learned it wouldn't last, and I could wait it out. So aside from a few memorable blips, grade 10 was a better time.
I was smart, but poorly organized and easily distracted. My grades put me in advanced Math and English classes. But I didn't want to excel. I wanted to pass my classes, but with average standing. I didn't want to be smart. I had found my niche. I fit in well with underachievers and troublemakers. Hard work just wasn't my thing. But neither was failure.
I shortcut every assignment, always doing just the bare minimum that was required to get a passing grade. No more, no less. But sometimes, my poor organizational skills would get me into trouble, and I'd have to act quickly.
And that's how I found myself dumbfounded in 10th grade English, staring in disbelief. As I walked through the door, I saw the writing on the wall.
The note on the blackboard read "REMINDER: IN CLASS ESSAY TODAY ON 'THE PEARL'".
Scanning the room quickly, I spotted one of my friends. Wild-eyed, I straddled the seat in front of his desk and faced him.
T: Hey, D. Did you read the book?
D: Of course I read the book! We have an in class essay today on the book! What kind of idiot wouldn't have read the book?!
T: Shut up, and tell me the plot.
(I'm not even kidding. I vaguely remembered being handed the book on the first day of class. I have no idea where it went from there. I do not remember ever being told that we would have an in class essay on it, and I certainly don't recall a date being provided. See? Poor organizational skills. You have no idea.)
D stared at me in disbelief, fully taking in the situation. But not a moment could be spared. Class was about to start. In a matter of seconds, D ran through the basic plot. No character names were supplied. I seem to recall D saying something along the lines of "A guy finds a pearl, then a bunch of really bad things happen, so he throws it into the ocean".
I nodded. "Okay. Thanks. Got it." And then I went to my desk, and got ready.
Careful to use no character names, since I didn't know any of them, I wrote an essay on "The Pearl". I discussed the symbolism. At length. I uncovered the hidden meanings, and commented on the tragedy. All of the subtle nuances were revealed in my incredibly vague words.
I got a 79%. I'm not sure if D was more upset that I'd passed, or that my mark was actually higher than his. But I remember how his head nearly exploded when he learned I'd gotten a better grade.
To this day, I still have not read "The Pearl", though I really think I should.
**********
I bring this up now because I am wondering what happened to the 15-year old girl who could BS her way through a project, still end up with a 79%, and call it a good grade. 'Cause now, I have to work really hard for my grades. I need superior organizational skills. If I get behind, I panic. Minimal to zero effort no longer results in a decent grade. A 79% makes me want to slash my wrists. Frequently, I lack comprehension skills. And my memory frankly stinks. I feel like an idiot all the freaking time. And what makes it even worse is that now, I'm actually reading the book!
I am totally not enjoying this class. Apparently, I kind of suck at it.
An observer who sat on the sidelines, I was able to blend. At the first sign of trouble, I moved swiftly into avoidance mode, and I was rarely backed into a corner. I had learned well. There were usually many ways to stay out of trouble. And when I was firmly stuck in the mess, it was never for long. I'd learned it wouldn't last, and I could wait it out. So aside from a few memorable blips, grade 10 was a better time.
I was smart, but poorly organized and easily distracted. My grades put me in advanced Math and English classes. But I didn't want to excel. I wanted to pass my classes, but with average standing. I didn't want to be smart. I had found my niche. I fit in well with underachievers and troublemakers. Hard work just wasn't my thing. But neither was failure.
I shortcut every assignment, always doing just the bare minimum that was required to get a passing grade. No more, no less. But sometimes, my poor organizational skills would get me into trouble, and I'd have to act quickly.
And that's how I found myself dumbfounded in 10th grade English, staring in disbelief. As I walked through the door, I saw the writing on the wall.
The note on the blackboard read "REMINDER: IN CLASS ESSAY TODAY ON 'THE PEARL'".
Scanning the room quickly, I spotted one of my friends. Wild-eyed, I straddled the seat in front of his desk and faced him.
T: Hey, D. Did you read the book?
D: Of course I read the book! We have an in class essay today on the book! What kind of idiot wouldn't have read the book?!
T: Shut up, and tell me the plot.
(I'm not even kidding. I vaguely remembered being handed the book on the first day of class. I have no idea where it went from there. I do not remember ever being told that we would have an in class essay on it, and I certainly don't recall a date being provided. See? Poor organizational skills. You have no idea.)
D stared at me in disbelief, fully taking in the situation. But not a moment could be spared. Class was about to start. In a matter of seconds, D ran through the basic plot. No character names were supplied. I seem to recall D saying something along the lines of "A guy finds a pearl, then a bunch of really bad things happen, so he throws it into the ocean".
I nodded. "Okay. Thanks. Got it." And then I went to my desk, and got ready.
Careful to use no character names, since I didn't know any of them, I wrote an essay on "The Pearl". I discussed the symbolism. At length. I uncovered the hidden meanings, and commented on the tragedy. All of the subtle nuances were revealed in my incredibly vague words.
I got a 79%. I'm not sure if D was more upset that I'd passed, or that my mark was actually higher than his. But I remember how his head nearly exploded when he learned I'd gotten a better grade.
To this day, I still have not read "The Pearl", though I really think I should.
I bring this up now because I am wondering what happened to the 15-year old girl who could BS her way through a project, still end up with a 79%, and call it a good grade. 'Cause now, I have to work really hard for my grades. I need superior organizational skills. If I get behind, I panic. Minimal to zero effort no longer results in a decent grade. A 79% makes me want to slash my wrists. Frequently, I lack comprehension skills. And my memory frankly stinks. I feel like an idiot all the freaking time. And what makes it even worse is that now, I'm actually reading the book!
I am totally not enjoying this class. Apparently, I kind of suck at it.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
And I cannot handle pressure
I should probably have just dropped the class when my world began to implode. But I didn't.
I had a drop deadline. Can't remember what it was just now. Didn't want to use it. Dropping the class costs a bit of cash. And I'm somewhat miserly. And stubborn. There was a possibility that I could still cope. I can't admit defeat when there is still a possibility of success, however slight.
I had until October 23 to decide to take an elect to re-enroll. But an ETR costs a sizeable amount of cash, and I wasn't willing to part with it. So I didn't take that option either. Instead, I opted to plough forward in a course that I am not understanding, for which I have no time, and in which I am woefully behind.
In short, I decided that my sanity was worth less than the course drop fee. So now I'm stuck with it.
What do they say again? There are none so blind as those who will not see?
J keeps stealing my post-it notes. How am I supposed to study effectively with no post-it notes, I ask you?
I had a drop deadline. Can't remember what it was just now. Didn't want to use it. Dropping the class costs a bit of cash. And I'm somewhat miserly. And stubborn. There was a possibility that I could still cope. I can't admit defeat when there is still a possibility of success, however slight.
I had until October 23 to decide to take an elect to re-enroll. But an ETR costs a sizeable amount of cash, and I wasn't willing to part with it. So I didn't take that option either. Instead, I opted to plough forward in a course that I am not understanding, for which I have no time, and in which I am woefully behind.
In short, I decided that my sanity was worth less than the course drop fee. So now I'm stuck with it.
What do they say again? There are none so blind as those who will not see?
J keeps stealing my post-it notes. How am I supposed to study effectively with no post-it notes, I ask you?
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